Shock Treatment, or The Quickest Way To Halt Prying Co-Workers

by Thomas M. Pender 

Landing smack in the middle of the Bible Belt in 1999, I learned right away that the area got that name because the citizens literally carried Bibles around in their belts.  At my first job in Georgia, we got one 10-minute break in the morning, a lunch hour, and a 15-minute break in the afternoon.  By this, I mean everyone in the small company went on break at the same set times.  It was no shock to me on my first day that all the smokers immediately stood up and scurried outside like a herd of antsy buffalo.  The shock came when the remaining non-smokers brought out the scriptures!

Now, for the record, I am a Christian, and a good one.  God and Jesus and I get along just fine.  I even go to see them in church.  Forgive me, however, if I got the absolute willies when I looked around a place of business and saw person after person after person reading the Bible.  I wasn’t sure which would be less uncomfortable: going outside to watch people smoke, or sitting neck-deep in the dogma.  One person on my first day even took the time – in my first five minutes on the job, mind you – to invite me to the daily lunchtime Bible study in the conference room.

That’s okay.  You go right along and tell Moses and the gang I said “hi.”  (Shudder)

It took a month or so to really settle into this new atmosphere, but settle I did.  I worked next to two young ladies who were avid Jesus-break-takers.  As long as they didn’t try to coax or sell their Stepfordness to me, I didn’t curse or tell off-color jokes, and we got along just fine.  Both ladies were African-American, as was the woman in the small picture frame on my computer monitor, so I got lots of questions about how we met and if we were getting married and having babies.  This, too, was fine.

That December, after I’d been at the job for seven months, we were all lazing about in the last ten minutes of the last workday before the long Christmas weekend.  The ladies got into a conversation of all the baking they’d be doing, and bragging on their secret family recipes.  Out of nowhere, one of the hyper-Christian ladies next to me segues from a chocolate-infused recipe into referencing my personal life by saying, “That’s not all Tom likes that’s chocolate!”  The ladies giggled . . . for a second.

Not expecting anything near the unchurchlike comment which was thrown out, yet unshaken, I very simply raised one eyebrow, looked the Bible-thumper straight in the eye and replied, “Yep.  Chocolate tastes better.”  After the chuckling shut off to pin-drop silence, I shrugged and said, “Hey, you brought it up.”

Lessons: If you’re going to be a pious Christian, be a pious Christian.  If you’re going to try to embarrass someone with rather non-Jesus topics, expect some sort of reaction.  Lastly, and most importantly, one should never try to embarrass me.  I embarrass back.

Two Hours In Cinematic Sunday School

by Thomas M. Pender

Which is better?  To be beaten over the head with a golf club, or to be beaten over the head with a Bible?

Answer: They both hurt and irritate you.

I don’t have cable, so I missed any and all ad campaigns for the film Seven Days In Utopia.  I don’t know if it’s a big film or a little one in terms of release.  I first saw the title while searching local theatres online for something I hadn’t seen.  Upon investigating, it looked like a decent show to see: the cast is filled with actors I enjoy (Lucas Black of Friday Night Lights and Sling Blade, Robert Duvall of The Godfather, and Kathy Baker of TV’s Picket Fences), and the story seemed harmless, although a bit used: Golfer loses a big match, goes angry-driving through Texas, skids off road, damages car, has to spend a week in a small town no one’s ever heard of, and his life is forever changed for the better.

I could name five or six films that already did this, except for the golfer aspect.  Still, it seemed worth a look.  Sadly, it’s a poorly conceived two-hour sermon that just happens to have a great cast in it.  I checked to make sure this wasn’t a true story, as that would negate my criticisms of the storyline.  It’s fiction, so here are said criticisms of the storyline:

First off, when the very first thing you see on the screen is a Bible passage, you can be sure you’re in for a soul-pokin’!  Then, a golfer who goes driving with no destination (or “no direction” as the Christian uber-message would probably word it) ends up in a town of just over 300 people that happens to have a makeshift golf course in the cemetery?  Puh-leeze!  And the architect of this course happens to be a former golf pro who everybody wonders where he disappeared to?  Puh-leeze times two.  The senior pro convinces the junior pro to stay in town for a week, during which the senior will help the junior “find his game.”  Now, we begin the Karate Kid portion of the movie, where the junior pro is told to perform all manners of crazy seemingly-unrelated chores (catch a fish, paint a picture), but as we know ahead of time, each chore will help him on his path to greatness.

It would have helped my irritation level greatly if the junior pro had simply heard of this crazy golf course, and chose to drive there to see it, to get away from it all.  That’s believable.  But crashing his car across the street from it?  And the mysterious senior pro happens to find him?  I’m already sorry I bought the ticket.

Add to this the anvil-heavy Christian message.  Now, I’ve been a Christian all my life, and I’m proud of it.  I think stories that put Jesus into people’s lives are wonderful, but there is something to be said for subtlety.  Jesus himself told parables, which were cute little non-head-beating stories that led people to understand God’s message.  It wouldn’t have taken much to change the script into a pleasant, featherweight story that got viewers to think about God’s work in our lives.  Instead, the creators went for the Crusades-level teaching style, and lost me altogether.  I don’t think God would want to be an irritant to those He’s trying to win over.

Halfway through the film, I’m hoping it’s a short movie.  Three-quarters through, I’m checking the time.  At the end of the film, when they opt not to show you the end of the story, but instead guide you to a website in order to find out . . . I was livid!  The nerve of some salesmen.  I decided it was my duty (and, admittedly, my revenge upon the filmmakers) to report this on a public weblog, and wave people off from seeing it.

I’ll even go a step further: The golfer wins in the end.  In the meantime, read your Bible if you want to learn about God.  Now, you don’t have to see the movie.  There!  Take that, Seven Days!