Prodigal Son

Dear Old Phart,

My husband and I are hard working, God fearing, Kansas farmers. Our problem is the youngest son. He’s not like the rest of us. He wears fancy jeans, uses product in his hair and likes to cook! My husband and I have spent many sleepless nights discussing what is wrong with him.

I even hate writing the word but we have our suspicions. Yes, we think our son may be metrosexual. What should we do?

At Wit’s End

Dear At Wit’s End:

I can clearly see what’s keeping you up at night. I personally didn’t have a challenge with metrosexuality when I was young.  As a kid, I was a slob. My parents didn’t have to worry about me cooking, cleaning or looking presentable. When company came over, they just shut the door to my room — with me in it.

But I think I can help. First, don’t panic…your son may not be metrosexual, you need to find out first.

As a test, have him cook up some chicken fried steak with gravy. Now this is the important part: check the gravy.

Is it lumpy like a normal person should like gravy or does your son purée it? If the gravy is smooth as silk, well that’s not a good sign.  Also, how does he season the gravy? Does he use regular seasoning like salt and  pepper or, god forbid, does he use exotic spices like paprika and chili flakes?  If you see any red stuff floating in the gravy…well…again not a good sign.

I’m sure you are worried about metrosexuality because you are good church-going Christians. But do not panic. Jesus says nothing about metrosexuality in the Bible. Also Jesus and his twelve disciples were grown men but only one could be confirmed as being married–so eleven of the twelve definitely were not metrosexual!

Now John the Baptist might have been. He was married, was a firm proponent of heterosexual marriage and had a hang-up about keeping clean and taking baths.  So he might have been a metrosexual.

Now if you do confirm your son is a metrosexual, take a deep breath. I am told on good authority that metrosexuality skips a generation. So you do not have to worry about your grandchildren.

Grandpa however is an entirely different story…how does he like his gravy?

Old Phart

Oh Gawd God!

Dear God,

I have prayed to you my whole life. I deeply believe in you and your greatness. I am overawed by your majesty. However sometimes I wonder what you are thinking when bad things happen. Are you just testing us?

True Believer


Dear True Believer:

First, I am not God. Your letter must have gotten mixed-up at the post office.

Second, unlike God, you can see me, feel me, touch me, and when I don’t change my socks, you can smell me too.

Third, I do not have God’s current address…he keeps moving. The last address I had for him was Salt Lake City but he left when Mitt Romney lost the Presidency. Rumor has it that he is now sharing an address with the Devil in Trump Tower but I understand through well-placed sources that this address might not be good for long. So instead of relying on the post office to deliver your letter to the right recipient (I don’t want the Devil  to get it by mistake), I will try and answer your question.

There is an ancient Hebrew prayer called the Shema. The English translation of the prayer is:”Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.” The question is, the Lord is One what?

Is the Lord One Great Guy as miracles do happen?

Is the Lord One Big Shmuck as tragedies do occur?

Is the Lord One Ton A Mera? (He’s Hispanic!)

Is the Lord One Toke Over The Line? (He’s a stoner!)

Is the Lord One Mother Mary who comes to me? If so…let it be, let it be.

So here’s the rub. Religion tries to tell you who God is. In reality, God is whoever you want Him/Her to be.

You won’t believe it but I just finished talking to God. He’s a middle age American male who works a 40 hour week, makes $58,000 a year and gets a pension after 30 years. Yup, he’s the postman who delivered your letter to me. 🙂

Old Phart