God Bowl!

Dear God… it’s Dave. Well, we’re only a day away from Super Bowl XLI. Where are You watching the game? Just kidding, of course. I know You and Jesus are catching all the action on the best plasma screen eternity has to offer while knocking back a few cold ones and noshing on some killer guacamole.

Obviously, the big game has gotten a ton of press, but this year there’s been a little extra coverage. Not just because we have African-American head coaches participating for the first time, but also because both coaches are good God fearing Christians. That’s right, Indianapolis head coach Tony Dungy and Chicago head coach Lovie Smith are down with Christ! And online Christian publications are all over the story. And why shouldn’t they be? Clearly, Coach Dungy and Coach Smith prayed harder than everyone else in the NFL and that’s why You ushered their teams into the Super Bowl. Isn’t it?

"The Lord set this up in a way that no one would believe it," said Dungy, according to the Baptist Press. "The Lord tested us a lot this year, but He set this up to get all the glory."

Um… with all due respect, Dungy’s right. I don’t believe it. Because, God, if You did, in fact, set this up to get all the glory, You’re not doing a very good job. All I’ve heard from the around the clock Super Bowl media machine are stories about the Bears and the Colts. I’ve also heard stories about past champions and their legacies. Your name has hardly come up. You know, except for those Christian publications. But really, who reads those? Perhaps I should wait until game day to pass judgment. There’s always a chance You’re glory will come in the form of one of those high-priced, star-studded Super Bowl commercials. I just hope yours isn’t the one starring Kevin Federline.

In addition to setting the game up for Your own personal glory, I’m glad to see You set this up for these two deserving African-American coaches. Putting them in the Super Bowl was a fantastic way to make up for all the years of bigotry and racism these guys and their ancestors probably endured over the past four hundred years. As an all-controlling entity that personally places Your loyalist followers in the Super Bowl, I assume You could have intervened at any point in history and wiped the scourge of racism from the earth. But You didn’t. I’ve never understood why. Perhaps making sure good Christians like Dungy and Smith won sports titles took up too much of your time.

So how do You decide who wins? Since both coaches are big fans of Yours, how do you pick one over the other? It would seem difficult. Almost like a Sophie’s Choice situation. Does it come down to who prays the most the week of the game? Or which team’s fans are more Christian? Or which team’s players are more Christian? If it does come down to the players, Chicago fans can start blaming Tank Johnson for the loss.

Like most Americans, I know I’ll be watching the Colts and Bears on Sunday. And if there’s any way for You to send me “a sign” that might indicate who’s going to win and by how much, I’d really appreciate it. After all, that information could prove very useful. Rent was due two days ago. But if You don’t want to give away this year’s winner, I completely understand. You could always just give me the total amount of points scored. Or who’s going to win the coin flip.

Anyway, thanks for your time. And good luck in Your squares pool.

Sincerely,
Dave

2007!

Dear God… it’s Dave. I know it’s been awhile. Months actually. But what can I say, I’ve been busy. What with the holidays and the new son… I mean, You know what it’s like having a brand new baby boy around. Late night feedings and diaper changes and… Oh, wait. You didn’t partake in any of that. You got that carpenter Joseph to do all the heavy lifting. Lucky bastard.

Anyway, now that the New Year is upon us and 2007 is a few weeks old, I’d like to take this opportunity to ask Your divine intervention in delivering us, Your righteous followers, from all the evils that plagued us throughout 2006.

-Deliver us from reality TV.
-Deliver us from bad TV.
-Deliver us from the remakes of films that were classics the first time around.
-Deliver us from celebrities who have been thrust upon our consciousness despite our protests.
-Deliver us from and Britney Spears and K-Fed.
Deliver us from Brangelina and TomKat.
-Deliver us from Paris Hilton. Seriously, the sooner the better.
-Deliver us from Mel Gibson and Michael Richards.

-Deliver us from Bobby Knight.
-Deliver us from T.O. and Ron Artest.
-Deliver us from Floyd Landis and his excuses.
-Deliver us from steroids.
-Deliver us from Barry Bonds, his swollen head, and his tainted home run record.

-Deliver us from big businesses that give it’s CEOs multi-million dollar bonuses but don’t insure their workers or pay them reasonable wages.
-Deliver us from oil companies who make record profits by raising and lowering prices as they see fit.
-Deliver us from insurance companies and pharmaceutical companies.
-Deliver us from Time Warner Cable, the worst cable company ever. Which is quite a statement.
-Deliver us from the people who complain about illegal immigration, but would then bitch about what goods and services would cost if there were no illegal immigrants.
-Deliver us from those who oppose stem cell research. I’ve always thought sick living people were more important than healthy microscopic embryos.
-Deliver us from Pat Robertson for reasons to numerous to list here.
-Deliver us from hatred and violence and racism and war. You’ve had thousands of years to do it and we’re still waiting patiently.
-Deliver us from the threat of terrorism.
-Deliver us from the threat of politicians who wish to take away our freedoms in the name of the threat of terrorism.
-Deliver us from Iraq and deliver us from the politicians who put us there in the first place. I think you know who I’m talking about.
-Deliver us from politicians who refuse to acknowledge global warming and refuse to take the necessary measures to correct it.
-Deliver us from politicians who balance their budgets by slashing funding to education and social services, rather than pork barrel projects.
-Deliver us from Republicans who have no heart and Democrats who have no spine.
-Basically, deliver us from all politicians.

Finally, deliver us from me. If you don’t, I’ll probably go forever.

Wish us humans good luck in 2007. Something tells me we’re going to need it.

Sincerely,
Dave

The Naked Treatment

Dear God… it’s Dave. Can you do me a favor? I’m not sure if there’s a Hell, but if there is one, could You please make sure that Father Anthony Mercieca burns in it for all eternity? You remember the good Father (if not, his picture’s down below). He’s the Catholic priest who’s been in the news lately because Representative Mark Foley has alleged he was abused by him when he was a boy. Father Mercieca, who’s now 72 years old, retired and living in Malta, has recently stated (through his lawyer, of course) that he doesn’t feel like he should be subject to any sort of prosecution. Oh. Well, okay, Padre, if you say so.

Now, to be fair, Mercieca hasn’t admitted to “molesting” a young Mark Foley. However, he did confess in interviews to swimming naked with him, being unclothed in the same room as him and massaging him in the nude. Oh. Well, okay, Padre, if you say that’s not molesting... Sure, I suppose he could’ve done worse, but all that nudity alone should probably land him in the pokey. And once he’s there the inmates should feel free to swim naked with him, be unclothed in the same room with him and then demand a nice naked massage. In fact, all of these child molesting priests should get some of that naked treatment. But will this happen? Of course not.

While some priests have actually gone to jail for their crimes, far too many have not, which I’ve never been able to understand. As far as I'm concerned, the powers that be in the Catholic church who shipped some of these guys from parish to parish should also be sent to jail so that they too can enjoy some of the naked treatment. But none of this will happen because our government gives religious organizations a free pass. For crying out loud, they don’t even have to pay taxes. Yeah, I know. These priests have been shamed, the church has been shamed, blah, blah, blah. It’s not enough. When you ruin people’s lives, shame is not enough.

So, God, that’s why I’m calling on You. Since mankind can’t seem to find a way to punish these child molesters properly I’m leaving it up to You. When Anthony Mercieca and all his twisted brethren reach the pearly gates, you make sure to kick their asses downstairs… again, assuming there really is a “downstairs.” I have my doubts. And in the fiery pits of Hell, they can face the fire and brimstone version of the naked treatment for all eternity. Thanks.

You’re buddy,

Dave

It's Your Prerogative

Dear God… it’s Dave. The prodigal blogger has returned. Sorry, I’ve been away so long but I’ve been really busy with work. Okay, You know that’s not true. Sorry. Many noteworthy things have happened in the world since I last blogged you. Kim Jong-il has detonated a nuclear device, the Iraq war has gotten worse and worse and as the mid-term elections grow closer, we’re learning that politicians are corrupt and sexually deviant. Who knew? But the subject I most want to discuss is the heartbreaking news that Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown are splitting up after fourteen blissful years. Whitney officially filed for divorce today and, needless to say, it’s hit me like a kick to the groin. Because if these two individuals can’t make marriage work, what hope is there for the rest of us?

I’ve always heard it said that those that “pray together, stay together.” I always figured the true meaning of that statement was that couples needed to have many common interests. I suppose it could literally mean that couples should pray together, but I know plenty of husbands and wives that did pray together and that didn’t seem to stop them from getting divorced. So I’ll assume it’s a metaphor. And an You think of a couple that has more in common than Bobby and Whitney? They’re both great singers. They both have a lot of money. They’re both washed up. They’ve both had run-ins with the law. They both seem to like drugs… So what seems to be the problem? Why can’t they work it out?

God, I’m asking You to intervene and save their marriage. After all, marriage is one of the seven sacraments you gave to man. (To be honest, I don’t really remember the other six sacraments. I’d have to look them up. But I’m sure they’re just as awesome as marriage.) And by bringing Whitney and Bobby back together, You won’t just be saving their marriage, but the marriages of all of us. Because normal people look to celebrity couples to help us through the rough patches with our spouses. When my wife and I are in a rut, we look to the Browns, or the Federlines or Pam Anderson and Kid Rock for inspiration. Because if rich, famous, attractive people can find a way to make it work, well then, gosh darn it, we all can.
So, please, send down a charming angel to get these two crazy kids back together much the way You did in that movie Whitney was in with Denzel Washington. You know the one. The Preacher’s White. Wait, that can’t be it. To be honest, I didn’t see the film, but I heard it was good. Just do whatever you have to do. We lost Brad and Jennifer. We can’t afford to lose Bobby and Whitney too.

Thanks for the help.

Your buddy,

Dave

When the Levees Broke

Dear God… it’s Dave. Well, it’s been a little over a year since You sent Hurricane Katrina down here to kick our ass. Thanks for that one, by the way. You at least gave Noah enough notice to build an arc. But the poor people of New Orleans… well, I digress. The natural disaster and national humiliation known as Hurricane Katrina is brilliantly documented in Spike Lee’s film “When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts” now airing on HBO. If You happen to get some free time (I know Pat Robertson probably nags you night and day), check it out.

Revisiting Hurricane Katrina was upsetting, not only because of the death and destruction caused by one of the worst natural disasters ever to smite the United States, but also because I was reminded of how badly Your boy President Bush dropped the ball. I mean, he really screwed the pooch on this one. The effects of the federal government’s failure to react in a timely fashion is still being felt by the citizens of New Orleans and other gulf states. Perhaps the government would’ve reacted faster if New Orleans was a city filled with the rich and elite, otherwise known as Bush’s base. Perhaps the government could’ve reacted faster had there been more National Guardsmen on American soil as opposed to fighting insurgents in Iraq. Perhaps FEMA would’ve reacted faster had it not been headed up by a Bush crony who was grossly unqualified to do the job. Or perhaps Bush didn’t evacuate the poor people of New Orleans too quickly because he looked upon that as a “cut and run” strategy. And we all know how much he hates those.

The beauty of “When the Levees Broke” is that the people of New Orleans are the storytellers. From everyday citizens, to reporters, to politicians, every voice is given a chance to talk about how Katrina affected them and how they felt about the way it was handled. The film also takes the time to deal with all the different factors that led to this American tragedy: poorly constructed and maintained levees (thank you Army Corps of Engineers), global warming (thank you fossil fuels), and the aforementioned horrific response by FEMA and the federal government (thank you again George W. and other incompetent beurocrats). The film also deals with the forces that have hindered and continue to hinder the reconstruction of the Big Easy. Again, FEMA finds itself at the top of the list, failing to provide money and shelter for Katrina victims in a timely fashion as well as being tardy in its efforts to clean up debris. The insurance companies seem to be finding any excuse they can to not pay claims, leaving many without the resources to rebuild. And one of the most interesting revelations in the film is that for years the oil companies that drill off Louisiana’s coast are allowed to do so without paying a penny in taxes to the state. But, of course, the federal government gets its share. And as a local radio personality explains in the film, if the state had the tax revenue from the oil and gas industries they’d have the funds needed to rebuild the levees as well as the rest of New Orleans.

God, You’re probably wondering why I’m bringing this film to Your attention. Well, the last time I checked we were one nation under You. And if our government doesn’t get its head out of its ass soon, we’re going to be one crappy nation under You. Hurricane Katrina and Spike Lee’s film about the disaster illustrate what a poor job our government does in taking care of its own people. And since President Bush claims to be a God fearing Christian… well, I’m sure there’s something You could say to him that would make him get his shit together. Because if our country doesn’t make some changes, and America falls victim to another terrorist attack or natural disaster… I think it’s safe to say we’re all screwed.

Your Buddy,

Dave

I Need a Miracle

Dear God… it’s Dave. I need a miracle. A member of my family is at death’s door. You know who I’m talking about… my beloved Sony Playstation. A few years ago my wife gave me the Playstation for my birthday. It was a very welcome addition to our family. I’ve enjoyed hours and hours of quality time with the gaming system which I’ve used to play various sports and Star Wars themed games.
But a few months ago something went very wrong. The Playstation didn’t seem to be itself. It started freezing during games and has gotten to the point where I can’t even get it to start up properly. You can imagine how heartbreaking this is for me. Ever since, I’ve found myself at a loss for what to do with my free time. I’ve been reading more and, as you know, I’ve started blogging. If this continues, I might even find myself learning a second language. We can’t have that.

Unfortunately, the plight of my Playstation is part of a growing problem. More and more often it seems that just about every piece of electronic technology my wife and I buy ends up breaking about two to three years after purchase. You know, right after all the warrantees expire. Cell phones, fans, DVD players, VCRs… you name it. We buy it, two years later, it’s broken and we need to replace it. The only piece of electronic equipment that seems to last forever is our alarm clock. But how hard can those be to make? I mean, the Swiss are good at making clocks.

I suppose this is all just part of the consumer driven society we live in. If companies made products that lasted a significant amount of time, then we wouldn’t need to buy new products every two years and they’d make less money. God forbid. I understand that’s the way things are, but that doesn’t make me want to kick the manufacturers of these items in the crotch any less. Seriously, put one of these guys in front of me right now and I’d stretch out my right leg for twenty minutes before I kicked him. Just to make sure I landed the most powerful kick possible.

I can’t change the way of the world, but I can ask my Maker for a favor. God, You are all powerful. You are capable of miraculous intervention. You are so magnificent that we must capitalize any word that refers to You. That’s why I’m asking You to resurrect my Playstation the way Jesus resurrected Lazarus. The rebirth of my gaming system won’t have the same kind of worldwide historical significance, but it sure would make me happy, not to mention save me the two hundred bucks it would cost me to buy a new one.

You’re very busy, so I don’t expect You to attend to this right away, but the sooner the better. In a few months, my first child will arrive and I’m going to need a way to zone out. I’m going to need something to deliver me from my wife’s postpartum depression and my son’s constant crying. I’m confident a healthy Playstation would be able to do that.

So see what you can do. I might even be willing to say a Rosary or something.

Your buddy,

Dave

PS – Also, let me know if Madden 2007 is significantly better that Madden 2006. Because I’m not going to spend fifty-bucks if it’s essentially the same game.

Tagged

Dear God… it’s Dave. I’m sure You know this already, but I watch a fair amount of television. Which means I see a fair amount of commercials. And commercials never lie. That I know. They tell the American public exactly what they can reasonably expect when they purchase and use their products. I think it’s safe to say that commercials for beer, pharmaceuticals and weight loss products accurately portray the life you’ll lead if you choose their brands. Which brings me to my point. Why couldn’t You have inspired some scent-ologist to create Tag Body Spray about twenty years ago?

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Tag Body Spray, it’s this cologne spray that’s apparently a hit with teenage boys. And why wouldn’t it be. In the commercials, the young men who use the stuff get attacked by women. Literally! Beautiful girls come out of nowhere and tackle them. It smells so good that females can’t control themselves. Their slogan is “Consider Yourself Warned.” I think they used this one because it can also be considered a disclaimer that prevents them from being sued. If you’re not familiar with the product, go to their website -- http://www.consideryourselfwarned.com/. Skip the intro, then click on a scent variety and spray the dude standing in the middle of your screen. Then watch the girls attack. Awesome!

Now if this crap only existed twenty years ago, my whole high school existence could’ve been different. Instead of desperately looking for a girl who might be interested in talking to me, all I would’ve had to do is spray some of the Tag on me and watch the ladies come running. I would’ve been like a taller version of the Fonze. I don’t know if Tag would’ve given me the power to turn off a jukebox by punching it, but I don’t think that would’ve mattered since there weren’t a lot of them around in the late ‘80s. My confidence in myself would’ve soared and I wouldn’t have had to wait so long to lose my virginity. Things would’ve been pretty sweet.

Unfortunately, my time to use Tag has passed. I could go to my local supermarket and pick up a bottle of the stuff, but why bother. I’m married now and if I had a mob of young women attack me in public there’d probably be an argument followed by me sleeping on the couch. Also, I’m thirty-two now and my aging body couldn’t take the constant abuse of being knocked to the ground by lustful women. I’d probably end up in traction.

I hope the current generation of teenage boys appreciate how easy they have it. Back in my day, we had to talk to girls first. We had to put our best foot forward and hope they didn’t realize what losers we really were. We had to convince them we had something to offer. Usually we didn’t. It was quite the tightrope walk. Now? All they have to do is spray some Tag on themselves and the pretty girls will come running. Lucky bastards.

These kids have it easy now, God. And I blame you.

Your disgruntled buddy,

Dave