Man Versus Fish

Religion. The Great Plotnik and The Great Ducknik, each of whom was raised with a degree of religion stuffed down their throats, unwillingly in Plotnik's case, less so in Ducknik's, made the decision early on not to tell their kids what to do about God. If they wanted to investigate their spiritual relationship with Him later on, they could.

In Plotnik's case, the deck was stacked, because The Great BZWZ and The Great PD grew up in Stiletto City, home of Plottie's family. These were the days before the advent of Plotnikkism, so the family celebrated the old fashioned holidays, everybody's holidays. Thanksgiving was big. They searched for Easter eggs (well, a little bit) and they exchanged gifts on Christmas day. New Testament God's name never came up.

They also celebrated Passover. Old-Testament God was everywhere. The point was to thank Him. It was all good, as long as you didn't think too much about the Egyptians.

By the way, did you know that Egyptian Jews don't blame the Egyptians? At their seders, the enemy was Ramses II, country unmentioned.

But Plotnik is being glib. He has always been glib about God with his kids, but the truth is everybody has to come to an understanding about his or her purpose or lack of purpose on this planet. Either God did it, or the stars aligned and you made it.

Christians are the dominant force in this country. Some are very nice people. They tend to go out of their way to let Plotnik understand that his tradition is all right with them. It is generally really, really awkward. Plotnik smiles and nods a lot during these moments. He is thinking: "If it were really OK with you, you wouldn't think about it. You wouldn't have to mention it. I wish you wouldn't." But he knows they mean well. So he smiles and nods.

This is what religion always does to him. He's either not religious enough or he's got the wrong religion or he's got the right one but doesn't observe it in the proper way or his yarmulke falls off his head into the brisket.

There ought to be a blessing for the Falling of the Yarmulke. There probably is. But it might be in the Methodist Church.

He's being glib again. God, I hate that.

Who?

All The Great Plotnik is trying to say is this: The search for one's own personal God is a lifelong one. Most people go in and out. When you feel great you are part of God's plan and everywhere you look there are glaciers, mountain lakes and mama bears. When you feel less than great your purpose is harder to figure out. Homelessness. Murder. Disease.

Plot wonders what a geologist does when she comes up against people whose religion denies the existence of science.

Or what you say to a child who wants to know where a dear, elderly neighbor went and why she doesn't come over any more?

We've all been there. There are many fish.  If there's a fish out there for you, catch it. Or don't. It's all about being happy with whatever gets you through the night, because only half your life takes place in the sunlight.

Don't ask the fish. In his religion, the Great Satan wears a short sleeved, red shirt with black lines on it.