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"The early bird has worms."
-- Mo's Mom
We recently decided to do some shopping at an upscale food store. You know the type. You walk in, bundles of fresh-cut flowers delighting the nose and mounds of colorful, fresh, produce tempting the palate. A mixture of price points, these grocery stores attract a fascinating cross-section of society.
I like going to this store because I love watching people, especially when they're in primal mode. Since the beginning of our existence, one of the skills of our kind has been hunting and gathering. Our earliest ancestors did it and it's something that we still do, some of us competitively.
Grocery stores often give shoppers samples, presumably "germ proof," under a clear plastic dome. I'd rather eat a mitten, although that hasn't always been the case. I've suffered gastrointestinal consequences more than once, and on one occasion watched a woman not only double dip into salsa, but cringed as she rescued a sunken tortilla chip with her freshly-licked fingers. I believe I may have actually shrieked out in horror at that one.
If observing shoppers competitively hunting for free food doesn't convince you that civilization is slipping, then perhaps the rest of my story will. I maintain that there are good reasons for being civilized and polite. I think you'll agree with me in just a minute.
The store was its usual busy self. The holiday weekend was upon us and we decided to get a loaf of bread to go with dinner. As we approached the bakery section, we noticed that it was swarmed with at least two dozen grazers, all snatching fresh samples of hot bread from underneath a plastic dome. The thought of wading through enthusiasts of free food was daunting, so we decided to do the rest of our shopping and then come back.
We returned to discover that the herd had thinned out considerably, although there were still a few chewers working on the dregs.
I looked under the clear dome and saw a few pieces of bread left. Suddenly, a young boy ran up and grabbed all the slices that remained. He took them out, aligned them neatly and then began thumbing through them as if they were playing cards, putting them in order from smallest to largest.
I impulsively looked away and shuddered, turned back and saw that the young boy was no glutton. Except for the piece he was eating, he'd returned every slice to its place under the dome.
My wife then told me that the child's hands had been stuffed down his pants right before he'd removed the bread. Visualizing a waterfall of Purell, I thought it would be a good idea to alert the baker that the bread was no longer food, but an impending pandemic. (Yes, I do get a wee bit tense in such situations.)
I was staring at the bread, making sure it didn't begin creeping toward me, and made a move to say something when a man approached quickly and hovered over the dome of doom. This fellow was with his wife and they were both dressed quite smartly, looking every bit the successful hungers and gatherers that I'm sure they are, right down to his tasseled shoes with no socks.
Now, in a civilized society, we might have had a conversation that went something like this: (Feel free to imagine snooty accents if it pleases you.)
Mo: Pardon me, my dear chap. I pray you'll excuse my intrusion.
Mr. Tassels: Of course, my good man! How may I be of service?
Mo: Well, Old Boy, do you see yon urchin?
Mr. Tassels: Yes. Quite so--the ragamuffin with a finger shoved quite firmly up his nostril and his hand in his trousers?
Mo: What ho! Yes! He's the one!
Mr. Tassels: I say, is he your progeny?
Mo: Egad! I should say not! Harumph! Kaff Kaff! I thought it decent to apprise you of the fact that without the benefit of hygienically disinfected hands, said lad pawed the very bread that you and your good wife may be intent on sampling.
Mr. Tassels: (Becoming pale and grasping at a table to keep from falling over. Mrs. Tassels weakly moaning and in danger of fainting.) Alas! You've quite saved us! I can't thank you enough, my good man!
Mo: Think nothing of it, Old Boy, and please don't thank me; thank our civilization! Cheerio!
Mr. Tassels: Ta Ta!
Of course, that's not how it went. In fact, if he'd been a badger, I'd be getting rabies shots for the next few weeks.
The man was positive I wanted his free bread, so he stared me down, deliberately reached into the dome, grabbed up all the remaining slices, took a couple for himself and gave the rest to his wife.
Smugly, and with a look of arrogant triumph, the successful hunter/gatherers smiled at me and ate their bread.
What could I do? Being a civilized fellow, I watched them eat it and gave them an even bigger smile back.
Until next week, I wish you all happy hunting and joyous gathering.
Program Note: Out of Mo's Mind will be on at its usual time, as usual. In fact, it's a pretty reliable bet that the show will air on time and be just as fun for me to do as the shows I've done in the past. It's also a good bet that I don't have a topic yet but, as usual, I'll have something to discuss by the time Wednesday rolls around. Maybe I'll do it on the usual sort of thing, although there's an awful lot of good things to discuss when it comes to the unusual. In fact, I spend a lot of time discussing the unusual, usually. That's quite enough of that. Predictions for your week LIVE! 9 AM, Pacific Time, Wednesday on 12Radio.com. Join me!
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| by Kristi Brower|
On Memorial Day my family and I took a drive through Yellowstone Park. On our way home we were driving down a mountain pass in the dark. It is a narrow, 2-lane highway with a long history of wildlife running out in traffic. We were going about 65 miles per hour with 3 cars hot on our tail, everyone ready to get home after the holiday.
I didn't see the deer until my partner screamed "Deer!" and the deer crossed the yellow line into our lane. I hit the brakes as hard as I could and the car shimmied and started to swerve. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that the car behind us was so close that I could no longer see their headlights. In that moment I made the choice to let off the brake, likely hitting the deer, to avoid being rear-ended and causing a high-speed 4 car pile-up
. At that moment the deer simply turned her head to the left, away from my car and I steered around her, missing her by inches. The entire episode took only a few seconds, but it felt like it all happened in slow motion. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that when I let up on my brakes the car behind us was able to slow down and swerve to the side of our car avoiding a collision. The deer jumped across the road between the cars, unharmed.
As I review this incident in my head I cannot come up with a rational explanation for why we did not hit the deer, roll the car, or get rear-ended. It was like time simply stopped allowing all of the players to move to safe places, and then everything started moving again and we all went on our way as though nothing had happened.
This is not the first time I have had this experience. Several years ago I was a passenger in a friend's SUV. We were driving along a lonely highway in Wyoming very late at night, when 2 semi-trucks came upon us, driving side-by-side, taking up both lanes of traffic. They were coming at us fast and neither made any attempt to swerve to avoid a head-on collision. On either side of the road there were 10 foot tall metal poles about every 10 feet, making swerving onto the shoulder nearly impossible.
As the semi's approached us my friend maneuvered the car as far to the right as possible, but I could see that we were either going to hit one of the poles or the semi in our lane, there simply was not enough room for all 3 vehicles between those metal poles. As the trucks came up on us I felt time slow down and the road widen. The semi's passed by us silently, almost as though they were apparitions. I watched those trucks in the rearview mirror, and they continued down the road, side-by-side, until they disappeared into the night.
Whenever I get into a vehicle I call on Archangel Michael and Archangel Raphael to keep me safe as I travel. I have no doubt that they are real, and with me, protecting me wherever I go.
I would love to hear stories of Angelic Intervention! Please post them to my Facebook page here!
So grateful to be here to share my stories with you!
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| by Carolyn Ferris|
Each week Carolyn Ferris will pull from her hand designed Tarot cards to reveal a message for us. Carolyn has been a psychic for many years and has a substantial amount of notoriety with her art. She has created art for many clients such as Timothy Leary, Santana, The Fillmore, and Moonalice.
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