But Dust

Periwinkle Chronicles, tales of the citizens of Periwinkle [because all the other colors were already taken] County:

The Rev. Dr. Randall Nathan, (Retard), which is how they pronounce retired in Periwinkle County, or at least that’s what they tell him, was in his usual booth at Buddy Mutts Café, run by The Brothers Jim, who are not brothers to each other but are brothers to other people, where you are not allowed in unless you have a dog with you, Faintly, the fainting goat, sitting beside him, since The Brothers Jim are too busy ignoring each other to notice if a dog is a goat, with a copy of The Affordable Care Act on the table in front of him, to keep anyone from sitting with him, lest he lose points in the Hermudgeon of the Year competition, hermudgeon being a conflation of hermit and curmudgeon, a copy of The Affordable Care Act itself being more abhorrent than the results it might bring, since no one wants actually to read it, for fear it will make them change what they think about it, when Abner Eration came in and slipped into the booth across from him.
 
“Apparently Ab Eration is not frightened by The Affordable Care Act,” observed Dr. Nathan.
 
“Fecal matter, no,” said Ab Eration. “I can make up my mind without knowing any facts. Didn’t see you at church yesterday, Rev.”
 
“I don’t go in the summer.”
 
“How come?”
 
“Morning sickness and but dust.”
 
“But dust?”
 
“Yes. Pastor Patty was giving the prayer one morning, and she said, O Lord, we are but dust. Four-year-old Clara Wembley piped up in full voice, which is the only voice Clara uses, and said, Mommy, what is butt dust? Well, you can understand that no one heard anything else that morning, but it got me to thinking about but dust. When you’ve been in the church as long as I have, you get covered with it. We could pray about it, but it probably wouldn’t do any good. We could help the poor, but they wouldn’t appreciate it. We could give money to the homeless shelter, but we need it for our church kitchen. We could vote, but it won’t make any difference. After a while, you’re just covered with but dust. Most church people have thick coatings of it. It gives you Sunday morning sickness. Takes a whole summer of mornings hanging around with fainting goats in the coffee shop to get rid of it.”
 
“I wondered about the goat,” said Ab Eration.
 
“It’s a scape goat, bred to get so excited at the sight of a wolf that they’d faint. That way the other goats could e-scape while the wolves devoured the sacrificial lamb, which was actually a goat. They are dying out, though.”
 
“How come?”
 
“Every time a male fainting goat sees a female, he gets so excited he faints.”
 
“I think you’re throwing but dust my way, Rev,” said Ab.
 
“Then you’d better have another cup of kindness,” said The Rev. Dr. Nathan, (Retard), pointing at the Buddy Mutts menu board.
 
***
The similarity between the activities in Periwinkle County and events in other places is rarely coincidental.
 
[“Christ in Winter,” Reflections On Faith For People In The Winter Of Their Years, can be found at http://christinwinter.blogspot.com/]
 
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