September 19: Look Radiant, Being Myself, Golden Fairy Tale

It is not easy to look radiant, but Wilbur threw himself into it with a will.  He would turn his head slightly and blink his long eye-lashes.  Then he would breathe deeply.  And when his audience grew bored, he would spring into the air and do a back flip with a half twist.  At this the crowd would yell and cheer.  "How's that for a pig?" Mr. Zuckerman would ask, well pleased with himself.  "That pig is radiant."

Wilbur has to force himself to be radiant for the visiting crowds.  Back flips and half twists.  He knows his life depends upon it.  He must convince Zuckerman that he is special, that he can contribute more to the life of the farm than a slab of back and a Christmas ham.  So he puts on a show.

I know how Wilbur feels.  Every day, I paste a smile on my face, joke with patients, collect money for the healthcare organization for which I work, and try to remain positive and upbeat.  It's not easy at times.  Today, for instance.  I did not feel very compassionate or kind.  People irritated me.  Yet I answered phones, registered patients, and tried to look radiant, like Wilbur.

Tonight, I'm all smiled out.  I've used up my daily supply of goodwill.  Thank goodness I'm alone right now.  No noise.  No TV.  Just the click-click-click of the clock on the wall and the tap-tap-tap of my fingers on the keyboard.  Anything beyond that would push me over the edge.

Once upon a time, a misanthrope named Hugh lived in a tent on the top of a mountain.  Hugh did not like people.  In fact, when family members came to visit him, he threw pine cones at them and called them names like "dumbhead" and "picklenose."

One day, a wizard, disguised as a beggar, came to his tent.  The wizard cried out, "Oh, please help me.  I haven't eaten in a week, and the arches of my feet have fallen."

Hugh opened the flap of his tent and threw the contents of his chamber pot in the wizard's face, yelling, "Piss off."

The wizard stood there, drenched in urine.  Then, he took out his wand and said the magic words, "Cow patties!"

Seven-hundred-and-fifty pounds of cow manure fell out of the sky onto Hugh's tent, instantly killing Hugh.

Moral of the story:  it's better to be pissed off than pissed on.

And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.

Watch where you're aiming that thing