An empty jar of grape jelly
April 1, 2015
Yet another in a series of fractured self-help anecdotes of
the absurd by Uncle Kevin.
This my friends, is a picture of a Babylon-Dayhoff household
emergency – an empty jar of Smucker’s Grape Jelly.
This is not funny.
This is
worse than a French Toast Emergency – when everyone runs to the grocery store
to stock-up on bread, milk, and eggs after the weather forecast predicts snow…
Breathe – Breathe… Count to ten. I’m going to be Okay.
Repeat. I am going to okay. This too shall pass.
Buckle up for the most absurd fractured obsessive
"narrative therapy" you've ever read
"Vices are ingredients of virtues just as poisons are
ingredients of remedies. Prudence mixes
and tempers them and uses them effectively against life's ill." La Rochefoucauld - Maxims (1665)
Come closer. I mean, can we talk? For you see, I strongly
believe that grape jelly is the very thread which holds together the uneasy
seams of modern society. Yes, my brethren – grape jelly. Can I get an Amen?
Lift your hands into the air brothers and sisters. I’m talking to you here…
It seems only appropriate that we take this time to pay some
sort of homage to this humble jar of jelly as it lies vanquished on the kitchen
stove.
This must be a teaching moment. I am going to concentrate on
the image of the empty jar of grape jelly and realize that this is all my
fault.
This all leads me to dig deep inner my inner mind, what’s
left of it, and ponder, am I addicted to grape jelly? Is there such a thing as
an addiction to grape jelly? I cannot bear to spend a day without a peanut
butter and jelly sandwich.
I am desperately in search of a support group. Perhaps I
have achieved a protected class – I can now join the balance of 65 per cent of
Americans who are classified as a protected class. Does my employer have to
make special accommodations for my addiction?
I guess I must accept the sad facts, I am addicted to grape
jelly.
So, now I'm running.
Running as fast as I can.
I was in the back yard when I first saw it. Out by the giant lava lamp…
It looks like it's a.... It’s a..... A giant jar of grape
jelly hovering over the house. It is so
large that it casts a shadow over all of the house, and beyond.
It drew even nearer.
I'm running. Was it going to
attack me? I tripped and fell. The giant jar of grape jelly drew
nearer. My life flashed before me.....
Running away as a child on my tricycle with my teddy bear. Helping Pop-Pop and my uncles build a
barn. My mother making me draw a pirate
over and over and over again for a drawing contest. Helping Tass Samios at the
grocery store. Helping Dad build a
glider swing set. Building things in my
sandbox. Coach Head congratulating me
for recovering a fumble. Mr. Eaton
calling on me in class. The Marines.
Civil rights marches…. Water cannons and police dogs. Seeing Elvis on the
farm. Timmy helping me with the farm house. Mark, Zachary, Fred…
The giant jar of grape jelly hovered just feet over my
head. It was so close to the ground that
it was damaging the roof of the house. I
thought of my home owner's insurance. It protects me from volcanoes - but, but
does it cover damage from a giant jar of jelly?
Does it? Tell me. Does it?
Ooze resembling jelly started flowing over the edge as it
tilted to the left. The jelly started
covering me. My God, I'm going to
die. Is this a diabolical plot caused by
political opponents? No, that would be a
huge pile of manure. Who caused
this? Why me? The jelly is covering me. I'm dying.
I'm dying. What a way to go! Why couldn't it be a big bowl of ice cream instead? I'm dying.... I'm dying.....
I'm dying…
I wake up in a cold sweat. Run to the sink and splash some
cold water on my face and steel myself for another day without grape jelly. Is
there no hope?
Another nightmare about grape jelly!
Didn't Homer say in "The Iliad," that the greatest hoax in
life is the hope for safety?
Can we talk? I need your help! You see, I'm a victim. I've finally joined the rest of contemporary American culture and have now become a victim.
I will repeat this chant over and over: "Excuses are for losers. What's the mission? It's performance that counts. I am the only one who is ultimately
responsible for my life. Get over
it. Move on. Say yes to responsibility.