Texting, Presbyterians, and Lipstick on a Pig
You really shouldn’t do this. It was the Brain Nag again. The Brain Nag is this itty bitty creature who lives in my head trying, with only modest success, to keep me out of trouble.
I WANT to do this, though. The thing is, our beautiful mountain town of Ruidoso, New Mexico, has welcomed a brand new resident, a humongous cell tower at our main highway entrance. It is constructed of steel extremities so ugly as to suggest Miss Piggy got tired of Arkansas and moved on down the road.
The edifice calls out to our incoming visitors, “Yo down there, if you think this is a sin against nature, wait until you see our blinking, beeping, honking slot machines!”
Stretching more than 130 feet above the ground, this wannabe Eiffel is erected on First Presbyterian Church property which – score one for the good guys – gets a monthly fee.
Well, there you go, Brain Nag nagged. You have tried hard for 16 years to make friends in Ruidoso. There are four people in town who actually like you, although one is iffy. With a single column you will alienate Presbyterians, probably all Christians in general, gamblers, the Chamber of Commerce, and cell phone users to boot.
Not so fast, Brain Nag! I am tight with that First Presbyterian crowd. I know some of the folks over there, like those kids, Tom and Julie Rigsby, and a couple of friends who walk almost as slowly as I do, Jim and Margaret Skelton.
I’m sure they will be tickled with you, Brain Nag said. So how about the high priority of church fund raising? How will you handle that?
I will tell the story of two pastors. One draws a circle on the floor, tosses into the air the contents of the collection basket. Whatever lands inside the circle belongs to God, whatever ends up outside the circle belongs to the preacher. The second pastor also throws the collection into the air. He figures whatever God wants, God will catch. The pastor keeps the rest.
Talented young Ruidoso artist Alex Gomez could, I am sure, draw a cartoon of a big frown on a Brain Nag face. It would come in handy if you would imagine that cartoon face right here. Nag was not happy. You are in such trouble, he growled, and you are dodging some important issues.
What do you have to say about the fact this tower is going to be camouflaged to look like a pine tree so that it will blend into the natural terrain? I will say good luck, but I suspect it will be much akin to strapping shoulder pads on my scrawny frame and trying to pass me off as a Dallas Cowboy fullback. I will say this is the classic example of putting lipstick on a pig.
The thing about Brain Nag is, you shouldn’t get him mad. This relentless tormentor can go days without sleep and keep his target up half the night and groggy all morning. Such was the case here as I struggled to bring this conversation to an end.
Listen, said Brain Nag, how are you going to explain why tree-hugging environmentalists did not spend a lot more time fighting this tower two years ago when it was fully vetted before the Ruidoso Planning Commission?
I am going to say we were too busy texting. And advice for anyone who seeks redemption, as indeed you should be seeking this very second, the Nag scolded?
Calling 1 800 JCsaves?