A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO BOSTON. . .

A distinguished vulture was boarding an American airlines flight to Boston, carrying a dead raccoon under one wing and a dead skunk under the other. A young flight attendant rushed up to stop him: "I'm sorry, sir, but you're allowed only one carrion."

IN THE SAME SPIRIT

A long long long time ago, I went to one of those new age conventions that are annually held in Spokane and other cities around the nation. For the fun of it, I had a photo taken of my aura which I am sharing with you today. Yes, that’s me, under the brilliant halo.

As the woman stared into my eyes and gave me the following interpretations, I managed to keep a straight face, though I knew that a skeptical smile was plastered on my lips even as I tried to be respectful of what she was telling me:

COLOR
 INTERPRETATIONS

The following is a guideline for interpreting the meaning of the colors in your energy field:

BLUE: Blue in your energy field indicates high certainty or a lot of creativity. In most cases, this represents that the individual's creative channels are clear.

WHITE: This individual is a highly evolved being who has the ability to focus or concentrate his/her energy in or around the body. [Highly evolved? I can't argue with that, but could this also mean I am selfish?]

(You will note, however, dear reader, that no matter how silly I felt the entire exercise to be, I have managed to keep the photo and the interpretations about my person ever since—and that was at least 15 or more years ago.)

I GUESS I DID A BAD THING, YOU BETCHA

Is this an adult lawyer or a bad little Christian girl caught with her panties down? Look at her expression on the right. Hasn’t she just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar—O, dear, yes, humn? On the left, she’s just been told that she’s a cute little girl and not to fear, so she toys with her hair and offers a winning smile. This woman is so full of guile and deceit, I can’t tell you! But how else is a good Christian woman, who should be home with the kids making meals for her hubby, supposed to act when out in the big world, beguiling a panel of wooden men (i.e. surrogate husbands)? Her expressions speak a thousand words. I wouldn’t trust her to be my lawyer in a serious case, but I’d trust her to lie for me if she were my secretary or underling, just like the young secretary who lied for Ollie North—remember him—who, by the way, is shown here swearing to those lies himself.