Tag Archives: peeing

Bat

Bat: (n) a mammal whose forelimbs form webbed wings, making it capable of sustained flightDictionary B

To a certain degree, everything in life seems normal until you have a chance to escape the circumstances and reflect on the weirdness.

I traveled the country with my family for a season, sharing music and ideas with audiences in coffee houses and churches. That in itself might be viewed as bizarre. But we were together, loved each other, attempted to maintain civility with the world around us–and laughed a lot.

So it didn’t seem particularly odd to arrive in rural Nebraska at a church in the middle of nowhere, which had invited us to come and share, and set us up to lodge in the fellowship hall so that we could save money on a motel (which did not exist anywhere nearby.)

We were grateful.

I should have known there was something wrong when we arrived at the location, set up our equipment, and I went to the men’s restroom to urinate. Totally preoccupied, I failed to look at where I was peeing and suddenly discovered there was a bat which was fairly upset over my splashings.

Yes, I peed on a bat.

I quickly departed, figuring it was just an aberration. But that night, as we lay on our makeshift mats on the floor, we began to hear the scratching, creaking and high-pitched squealing of creatures directly above our heads, in the ceiling.

It was very disconcerting–a soundtrack from the worst horror movie you’ve ever heard.

I suddenly realized that the bat I had pissed off–or pissed on, depending on how you look at it–had friends in high places.

We were surrounded.

Matter of fact, turning on the lights we discovered there was a hole in the ceiling where the bats were obviously finding an exit to fly around and check out the rest of the building.

We went on a frantic search to find a place where we would be safe. After careful inspection, we found that the only place in the building that was closed off and private seemed to be the nursery–and only a small portion of that room.

So we all huddled together in the midst of the bassinets, stuffed our ears with cotton, covered our heads with blankets and tried to sleep, praying for morning.

Needless to say, we checked out early … just in case the bats were getting up for continental breakfast.

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Astronaut

Astronaut: (n) a person who is trained to travel in a spacecraftdictionary with letter A

I am officially an astroNOT.

There are so many reasons I could not be an astronaut. Matter of fact, if people were gathered in a room discussing their ability to be astronauts, I would have to leave because I would have nothing to contribute. And if I suggested I might be suited in any way for the occupation, laughter would ensue.

Let me list the ways that I am astronaut-less:

1. I actually am larger and weigh more than the space capsule in which I would be inserted.

2. Claustrophobia. It is not a good thing to have when you’re living in an enclosure that fits you like a glove.

3. I don’t like toothpaste for brushing my teeth, let alone for squeezing out food from a tube for dinner.

4. Peeing in my spacesuit. Distasteful.

5. Training. Physical training is not at the top of my list for pleasure. I exercise–on occasion–because I am threatened with death.

6. Having megatons of high explosives directly under my ass exploding, with the hopes of propelling me into space.

7. Weightlessness (although I have to admit, it sounds like an easier way to shed pounds).

8. Walking on the moon just seems weird.

9. Sharing a small space with other people who hate you because you’re taking up their space.

10. Returning to Earth.

So you see, I shall never be an astronaut.

I will not pretend I’m an astronaut, nor shall I bore you any further by writing about my weaknesses in becoming an astronaut.

P.S. Yet, my friend, Janet Clazzy, could be an astronaut. (I actually don’t know whether she could or not, but it’s her birthday today, and this was a really cheap way of mentioning it…)

 

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