I’m closing up the toe of a size 11 sock for a size 11 friend. Why do boys have such big feet? If these socks were for me, I’d have three of them by now. People laugh at me when I show them my size 11 socks for my size 11 friend. They just look so ridiculous. Mr. Size 11 had better appreciate; though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t read this blog, so my oh-so-subtle hint is wasted.
By the way, what do people have against vinegar? I don’t get it. It’s just sour stuff. Invaluably useful, panacean sour stuff (panacean, in case you weren’t aware, is the adjective version of the noun panacea: a cure-all) that don’t taste half-bad when mixed up with lots of other stuff. It’s cheap, too. But a lot of people have a weird grudge against it. My brother Erik is among these haters. He won’t eat it if he thinks there’s vinegar in it. If he doesn’t know it’s there, he doesn’t mind, but as soon as one enlightens him, he claims that he could smell it the whole time and that he’d better not eat anymore; it’s making him sick, thank you very much. I made a marvelous vinegar pie for a potluck tonight (Lutherans love potlucks; oh, they love potlucks). Everybody raved about “Sofia’s lemon pie” and one lady didn’t believe me at all when I told her it was vinegar. Prejudice is a stubborn thing and I’m up late and should probably shut up now.
I’m sorry I’m not writing about Thanksgiving. I’m thankful! I really am! But I’m too disorganized to have sage things to say about counting our blessings and the materialistic folly of the whole Black Friday deal. Besides, I want to tell you about King Saul’s date with the Witch of Endor.
So, you know seances? Wait just a minute; séance! With an Accent Aigu. Or is it Accent Grave? I never could remember the difference. But anyhow; séances. You’ve seen them on TV. They always do them on the kind of dorky old TV shows that Sofia likes to watch. A group gathers around a small round table, usually with a dark-colored tablecloth. They’re usually middle-aged women, unless they’re the meddling kids from Scooby-Doo. One of them has a turban and shawl and waves her hands about solemnly and makes mystical groaning noises and calls to a spirit who has passed on. The table might lift up mysteriously, a face might appear.
Then Sofia says, “Pssh. It’s so silly what some people can believe in. I don’t believe in ghosts, of course. I’m a Christian, aren’t I? I believe that deceased persons pass on; they don’t go hanging around and bothering people.”
Then I learned about the Witch of Endor.
The Witch of Endor
Once upon a time, King Saul was having issues. Poor King Saul was given to having issues. From head-achey evil spirits to maintaining his tottering popularity to hunting down his pesky son-in-law, David, he really had enough on his plate to be dealing with. Then, what do you know, but the rascally Philistines started camping out nearby. Well, Saul was only human, and he needed help. He decided to go ask the advice of his wisest adviser: the prophet Samuel.
Great idea. Except that he died last week.
“Well,” said King Saul, “I guess it’s time for Plan B. I need to go see a witch. It’s séance time. Yeah, I know I banished all the witches and wizards just a couple of verses back, but come on; there’s gotta be one left lying around. Please?”
His attendant replied, “Oh yeah, there’s one still camping out in Endor. Bonkers if I ever saw one.”
“Whatever. Let’s go.” replied his liege.
So, King Saul decked himself out in peasant clothes and went to Endor by night to consult with the witch.
“Hey there, Enchantress! I want to talk to Samuel; you know him? Real tall guy, prophet, long beard, died last week? You couldn’t ring him up for me, could you?”
Witch (let’s call her Hazel): “Uhh, you know that’s against the law, don’t you? King Saul banished all workers of witchcraft and wizardry just a few verses ago. What, you trying to get me killed? No way, Hosea. Hit the road, Jack.”
“Aww, stop fussing. You won’t get in trouble, I swear. I just want to talk to Samuel for a minute.”
Ghost Samuel: “You rang?”
Hazel: “Woah woah woah, buddy. Okay now; this is just getting weird. You meanie! You’re Saul himself, aren’t you? Well I never! You dirty sea-pigeon! Trying to get me killed, eh? Well! Congratulations! Ya tricked me! I hope y’all feel really swell about yourself. Take this poor ol’ lady to the gallows, will you? %$!?%&*^%!!!!”
Saul: “Quit fussing! I swear, I won’t punish you. Tell me what you see!”
Hazel: “Umm, Samuel, obviously! Old guy, long robe? Sound familiar, you old creep?”
Ghost Samuel: “Yo Saul; what’d you wake me up for? I was having a nice nap. Can you guys just quit arguing and make it snappy?”
Saul: “Oh hi Sam! Thank goodness! I’ve been trying to reach you for hours! I want to ask your advice on the current situation: the Philistines are pounding us to smithereens, God’s pretty much ignoring me, and IDON’KNOWWATTADO!!!!”
Ghost Samuel: “Psh. Well saw-ree Mister. Maybe if you had followed God’s plan, He wouldn’t be mad at you. Oh yeah, did I mention that you’re actually fired? There’s that promising young son-in-law of yours come to take your place as king. God has high hopes in David. Really clever fellow. Young, too. Great fighter. Nice young chap. Too bad you guys don’t get along so well these days. By the way, as you and your family are going to be killed by the Philistines, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. Bye.”
Saul: ” -_- Not helpful. At all.”
Hazel: “Um, Saul? Want some lunch?”
(Based on I Samuel 28:3-24)