Tag Archives: stomach cancer

Cradle-to-Grave

Cradle-to-grave: (adj) from birth to death

Just another night, sitting around with members of the human tribe, thinking about the wonders of the world, ignoring them, and pursuing problems.

The weakness of our race is the foolish notion that we can live forever, while simultaneously being obsessed with a terror of the grave.

Which one is it?

Are we going to live forever? Or will the next processed hot dog we consume give us stomach cancer?funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Yet the insurance companies, the government, the churches and in many ways, the business and entertainment industry make their money by dragging us into a “cradle-to-grave” mentality.

This is why people become so obsessed with a new baby. We even pretend they’re cute. The notion of new life reminds us of our own lives and sprouts a yearning to be young again—or at least as young as our number of birthdays will permit.

But there is only one way to live a good human life.

You must eliminate the second, the minute, the hour, the week, the month, the year and the lifespan.

If you become obsessed with the second, minute and hour, you’ll be a nervous ninny, incapable of enjoying the life you are presently breathing.

If you find yourself overly adult—insisting on the week, the month, the year and the lifespan—you will fret over health, retirement and the loom and gloom of your demise.

Here it is: human life runs by the day.

This is why each one begins with the sun and closes with the sun. It comes up, it goes down. There is life.

If you live as if only one of these will be provided, just think how delighted you are to awaken to a new sun and a new day.

If we woke up every morning convincing ourselves to include as much joy as humanly possible in our sixteen waking hours, then we’re bound to have many adventures we couldn’t possibly have planned—which will spontaneously arrive to take our breath away.

But if you’re worried about the next minute or if you have some sort of fund or insurance to cover your burial, chances are you will not have grasped the true significance of how life is contained in the single day.

Life is not cradle-to-grave.

Life is a birth and a death—with many, many, many twenty-four-hour opportunities in between—to delight yourself.

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Butcher

j-r-practix-with-border-2

Butcher: (adj.) a person whose trade is cutting up and selling meat in a shop

Growing up in Central Ohio, it never occurred to me that I was surrounded by German immigrants. The last names of my friends should have been tell-tale–Steinmetz, Moodesbaugh, Ristine–but I took it in stride, as normal.

So when our local butcher was named O’Dell (which was his first name) it didn’t even register on my young mind that this was unusual.

First of all the whole idea of having a butcher is relatively uncommon–except I guess some large grocery stores have sections where somebody dons a white cap and does a good imitation.

But O’Dell was a character. He hawked his meat to everyone who came into the little shop with great aplomb and grace. He was famous for his ham loaves. The ingredients were, of course, a secret. (I don’t know whether that’s because there were mysterious spices or perhaps unknown meats.)

But what he was most famous for was grinding his own hamburger–and then to prove it was really fresh, he would reach in, grab a small pinch, roll it into a ball, throw it in the air and let it land in his mouth, consuming it raw.

I don’t know how many times a day O’Dell did this. But certainly enough that he got a gut full of raw cow.

Unfortunately, about twenty years later, O’Dell got stomach cancer and died. Now I’m not saying this happened because he ate raw hamburger.

But it does give me pause … and has prevented me from ever indulging in uncooked meat of any type.

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