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Climb every motherfucking mountain

I'm not much of a music man. Grew up listening to the top 40 on an endless cycle, and I liked it but not enough to buy a lot of albums or even know which bands did which songs. In the 1980s when Air Supply hit it big I figured I'd heard enough and clicked it off.

Movie musicals are a habit, though, along with the oldies from my era and earlier. If you're dumb enough to loiter within earshot, you'll often hear me whistling a few of the standards — "Blowing in the Wind," "Some Enchanted Evening," "Theme from Super-Chicken" — whenever I'm not cussin' people out for whistling too much.

Sometimes I sing, too, and maybe improve the lyrics. I've written words for the Siskel & Ebert theme, but it's just "Why don't you both just kiss my butt" over and over again.

Lately I've been singing "Climb Every Mountain" from The Sound of Music, with motherfucking added. Pick up the tempo to fit in the extra syllables, and it can brighten your spirits.

Climb every motherfucking mountain
Ford every motherfucking stream
Follow every motherfucking rainbow
Til you find your motherfucking dream!

That's the song I was singing, sitting at the fish stand, when two young men in suits approached. They were both carrying Bibles and wearing too-narrow ties. Jehovah's Witnesses, obviously. Witness this.  

Maybe they were going to complain about the fish, or more likely just try to save my soul, but I wasn't in a mood for either so I sang the song a little louder, and opened the Bible I now arm myself with on Telegraph. It was Jay's idea, and it was brilliant. On the fish stand, it diffuses the idiots, and today it had its desired effect.

They looked at the fish, looked at the Bible, the fish again. One of them said, "Where's the Jesus fish?" and the other said, "You're a Christian?"

Given my choice of those two lines, I took the one less traveled. "Yes I am," I lied, "and you're two Christians?"

"Yes," said one of them, and the other echoed. "We are Christians, and we are proud of it."

"Pride is a sin," I said, and felt like I'd taken an early lead in this game. Proverbs 8:13.

To that there was silence for a few seconds, and then the dumber one of them said, "I don't understand the fish and the Bible. What do you believe?"

"I believe your God made some people especially stupid, lacking any sense of humor, and lacking any sense at all. And behold, He called them Christians." Then I was feeling lucky, punk, so I lifted Jay's Bible and gently, slowly tossed it into the trash can on the sidewalk. If I'd missed I would've lost the whole contest, but today my aim was true for two points. It must've been God's will.

One of them said something more, but I drowned him out with the raspberries. I dunno why it's called the raspberries, the fart sound you make with your lips. Spit comes out when you do it, and I saw a blop land on one of their hands, but the conversation had gone off-script, and I don't think Jehovah's Witlesses are programmed to improvise much.

After they'd walked away, I picked Jay's Bible out of the trash and wiped it off, for next time.

From Pathetic Life #18
Sunday, November 5, 1995

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

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