Playing God

July 21, 2007 at 7:43 pm 2 comments

Last weekend I did some yard work.  One of my first tasks was chopping down a small walnut tree that had taken root in some ground cover near the street.  I used a small ax and at first I marveled at the exercise I was getting with each swing.  Suddenly I thought, “This is so weird.  I love trees.”

I do love trees and I especially love trees that are growing where they shouldn’t be– on top of rocks, clinging desperately to a steep incline, still growing after storm damage or a fall.  It is those trees, the peculiar or peculiarly placed that catch my attention on hikes.  But in my yard, this industrious tree who managed to find a spot of free sun was not rewarded.

Later I moved into the backyard where my well covered body ruthlessly yanked down poison ivy vines from trees.  But, I let the beloved Virginia Creeper remain.  At one point, I delicately untangled a poison ivy vine so as to not to disturb the Virginia Creeper on the same host.

Then I got out the weed wacker and without remorse I swung that thing around and devoured everything in its path…. until I got to the wild raspberry bushes.  I remembered how delicious they were last summer and spared them…at least until they bear fruit.

When it was all done, I sat down and drank my Gatorade Rain Berry (my new favorite flavor) and looked upon my creation.   I reflected on the items I condemned, the items I smote and the items I saved.  That afternoon I wasn’t doing work, afterall.  I was playing God.

Well, as luck would have it, I happen to have another Playing God story to share!

My last two years of college I roomed with a dear friend of mine.  This man is intelligent and funny and there are many things about him that I admire… but, like most of us– he has a vice.  He chews his fingernails.  I certainly would notice the gnawing, but it never really bothered me all that much until one idle day when we were heating up a frozen pizza.

Now— we were in college.  So let me lay down some groundwork here.  At that time, our diet consisted solely of frozen pizza, Wendy’s and on special occassions, we would fast all day for a giant gluttonous feast at Texas Steakhouse. 

So this frozen pizza venture was not a new one.  My roommate got the pizza out of the freezer as he had done hundreds of times.  He unwrapped the pizza, as he had done hundreds of times.  He started to rearrange the pepperoni so they were evenly distributed, just like all the other times before.

But this particular day, I thought about his nailbiting.  I could see his fingers firmly rooted in his mouth and him biting away.  And then I could picture his finger tips glistening in the light with fresh saliva.  And then I watched as those same fingers with ragged nubs for nails were picking up the pepperoni I would be eating in 8-12 minutes.

I grew so disgusted and so outraged that I couldn’t hold it in.  I exploded.  I’m not sure of my initial statements, but I know exactly how my ejaculation ended:

“YOU SHOULDN’T PLAY GOD WITH THE PEPPERONI!” I screamed and stormed off.  I left the poor guy perplexed and with a handful of pepperoni.

And that, my friends, was the *only* explanation, he got for my outburst for many, many years–  some kind of heightened sensitivity to blasphemy via frozen foods. 

Just a couple of years ago, I did enlighten him to the true story behind my statement.  I’m not sure, but I think the explanation actually made me look less crazy.  😉

Entry filed under: College, Food, Pizza, Poison Ivy, Texas Steakhouse, Virginia Creeper, Wendy's.

links for 2007-07-21 Brushes With Harry Potter

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Katie  |  July 22, 2007 at 4:17 pm

    But the pizza is going in the oven! Surely any saliva-bourne disease will be extinguished by the heat?

    Still, I know what you mean about it being a bit (OK, a lot) gross.

  • 2. tgaw  |  July 22, 2007 at 8:29 pm

    @Katie – That makes sense now, but I wasn’t exactly rational at the time. 😉


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