Split Pea Soup for the soul

It seems that unlike "Chicken soup for the soul", my stories are a far cry from the heartwarming tales that pull on your heart strings. Although, some of them may bring tears to your eyes -- tears of laughter that is.

So unlike chicken soup, which seems to be a healing food, My stories of late, can more accurately be compared with the kind of soup you like to "accidentally" spill under the table for the dog -- the kind that even the dog refuses to eat. But its healthy, so apparently, one gets some benefit out of it, even though no one likes it.

I suppose, somewhere down the road, I'll learn something from all this. And so, my life got a bit more exciting when my at-large brother calls at 1 am... on April 1st. He was in the hospital with a broken back, after deciding to leap from the roof of a two story building. Apparently, he decided that it was a good way to get away from the cops, who were persuing him. He swore up and down he wasn't high...

Arriving at the hospitital, I was given a visibly jarring reminder of why I hate drugs so much; and why everyone should, for that matter. The brother I remembered was no longer there. Painfully thin, he looked more like an AIDS patient who was dying than someone who had his whole life ahead of him. He had a weakness and a kind of bitter vulnerability that went far beyond his having a broken back. With the surgury he had, and the physical thereapy, they had him walking a day after surgury. At the hospital, he could barely get around, and moving was a painful process. So it was surprising to hear him talk about trying to run -- he wanted to escape the hospital, before the cops came for him. Like that was going to happen, we thought. I mean, how stupid can one individual be?

Apparently, there are some in the human species who are completely lacking in human intelligence. The next day, when we arrived back at the hospital to visit dear old bro, we found out that in fact, he HAD tried to escape. The police found him about a mile and half away from the hosptial, still wearing his hospital gown and robe (thank God he had the robe on, lol), attempting to go to someone's house for some money. WE used to joke that Iowa stood for Idiots Out Wandering Around... perhaps there is some truth to it. I have this wild mental picture of my brother wandering around Iowa City in a Hospital gown and robe, trying to look completely nonchalant.

When I came into room after nurse told me, I expected him to be a bit depressed and sulking over being caught, but he bragged to me about how he'd gotten so far before getting caught. IT was like seeing his old six year old self showing thru the 30 year old body.

But, if that didn't prove how absolutely stupid drugs make a person, he only had to open his mouth to confirm any hesitating suspicions. Apparently, he had pretended to undergo some great conversion while in prison -- a great way of fooling everyone and getting out of jail early. So I got to listen to him rave about God, drugs, how bad everyone else was. I frantically tried to avoid any discussion of religion, as every time he talked about God, he sounded like a complete nut. Well, he got on THAT subject, trying to convince me I was throwing my life away by marrying Nick. In his own, rather piogant way of saying things, he told me that Jesus told me to "obey the F***ing bible, and it didn't matter what I wanted". I told him it was fine coming from him, and could he mind not saying the "F" word when he was talking about what Jesus wanted? Well, he said, that I probably "thought" he was a hyprocrite, but i just didn't understand. I decided to avoid all subjects of God altogether. But of coures, when one wants to AVOID talking about somehting... it never happens. It only got better, when he was talking about "having a degree in marijuanology" -- and how there was no better feeling.

So my dad says, "Well, you don't need pot, son, you just need the joy of the Lord!!"

And my brother says, "Oh I have the joy of the Lord, I love Jesus, blah, blah, blah..."

Bless my dad's heart. He actually says, "Good, I'm glad you love God." I'm trying not to choke, and mom has a look on her face rather akin to someone's expression when someone scrapes their nails on a chalkboard.

I should add here, that he had a roommate, who was looking clearly panicked by now, and will no doubt count himself lucky if he a.) never takes drugs, and b.) never goes to church. WHY is it that its always the crazy nuts who decide to talk rather openly about religion and think they need to tell the whole world how they feel? At least he isn't claming to be Jesus or somehting bizarre like that -- yet.

I'm sure, when his roomate got discharged (which he no doubt begged to be), that he told all his friends he was in the room with a dangerous mental patient. And this is one of my family memgbers... *sigh*

Ahhhhh, split pea soup... Mom used to make it, but she put it though the blender, to make it have a smoother texture. I don't know why.... but that's what she did. Unfortunately, after she put it through the blender, it was this thick, greenish substance, that looked exactly like calf diarrhea... so needless to say, it was somewhat unappetizing to look at.

So my tale is somewhat like a cup of pea soup... it sounds funny when you hear about it, but its rather unappetizing when it all happens. AT any rate, i suppose something good came out of it -- I sure as heck won't ever take drugs.

Ciao for now...