What's a passing grade?

If you think that there's someone or something grading your life, then it's easy to fall into a thought pattern that favors reincarnation. It's probably a more fun way of being 'born again' compared to the Christian version of 'born again.' In the case of Christianity, the rumor-mongers who wrote the old and new testaments gave a lot of details about who was judging and the criteria. I know absolute nothing about who or what reincarnationist think is in charge of assigning me to be born as Maiden Form Bra my next time around. I think that beats Prince Charles' expressed desire.

But right now, as you sit there playing with the waistband of your jockey shorts and wondering if your significant other was kidding about both of you dieting, who do you think is watching you? Do you think your Grader is making notes about where you go on the internet and what you do when you get there? And if you don't constantly sustain that "someone's watching me" attitude, does it mean you don't really believe?

One of the guys I play golf with was living a very typical SoCal life. Lots of gambling, drinking and fooling around. He was an inspiration to all of us. And then he had something go wrong with an important organ. No, it wasn't his penis, but thanks for the thought. It wasn't his heart, either, but it was right up there in importance, with institutes and charities founded on its behalf.

Our friend later confessed to us that the night before his operation he didn't sleep a wink, what with trying to strike a bargain with his Grader. My friend was cognizant of the fact that he was deeply flawed and certainly not capable of perfection. He kept admitting to his Grader that the worse off he came out of the operation, the better the "quality" of this life would be. He kept pushing and pushing in the bargaining process for 'decent' health, sexual strength and the ability to swing a golf club. In exchange he promised to stop drinking transparent liquors, sleeping with women under 35 (there was a LOT of bargaining on the cut off point!) and in exchange, he would give up his teeth if the Grader wanted them as part of the bargain. But he wouldn't even consider discussing his hair; that was strictly off the table.

So he had his operation. Now he says he can still perform sexually and only drinks beer and liquors of color. He still has his teeth but the Grader can have them if He wants them. He also bemoans the fact that he's not good at judging a woman's age. He says he feels it's the right thing to just assumes they're over 35.

There was a lot of sincere effort put into his bargaining. I believe it was all pointless. Just as I believe 'death bed confessions' are worthless, useless and the utmost in hypocrisy. On my death bed I'll be asking for forgiveness that I didn't try harder to enjoy myself. And I'll extend myself that forgiveness. It'll be my luck to come back as an A cup.