Flashes of Panic

…a visit from the friendly Jehovah’s Witnesses to make your morning. They wanted to talk to me about, “…on Earth, as it is in Heaven.” (Roughly speaking; they started out with Isaiah and some of Daniel’s dream-interpretation with Nebuchadnezzar. I think if I had asked specific questions I might have drawn out some sort of political imperative as well, but I didn’t give any openings for that.) I didn’t want to tangle with them (I generally resent people leading me toward specific beliefs) and one had some sketchy English, so I smiled, nodded, and dredged up enough verses from memory to convince them that I wasn’t on a fast track to eternal damnation and I didn’t think they were dangerous fanatics. (Yankees fans are dangerous fanatics.) They were pleased, I wasn’t excessively annoyed, and I recycled whichever variant of the Watchtower they gave me.

Better than the last time I was proselytized to, which was when some LDS missionaries (?) came to my door in Allentown. (Lucky visit; I only lived there four months, and only three at that address.) I had assumed that LDS missionaries went “on mission” abroad, but I considering Allentown, well, I guess that’s a good place to go. (I recall the story about how my grandmother ended up in Maine; according to family lore, the seminary head asked her if she wanted to “fight sin” in our town, which we all found amusing; what sin is there is relatively deeply rooted and would probably put up a mighty fight.)

The Mormons offered to come back and discuss the literature they left with me, and I had a hard time convincing them that I really was moving the next day. (I was.) Allentown not being a giant of recycling, I don’t think that particular book of Mormon was pulped for newsprint, unfortunately.

Now playing: Glow-in-the-Dark Plastic Angel from This Town Is Wrong by Nerissa & Katryna Nields