born again and deviled eggs

i found out late thursday night, in one of my mother's famous "tattle tale" phone calls, that she was coming to fort worth on sunday to witness my sister being re-baptised. at first i was completely offended that my sister hadn't told me this herself, and earlier as well. i mean how can i buy a reborn gift with such short notice? i didn't even know where she'd registered. then again, i didn't have a clue as to what sort of gift to give when someone is reborn. is it a sort of baby shower for adults? on any count, i see an opportunity for hallmark cards to make lots of money riding the wave of the born-again crowds.

for the record, my siblings and i were all baptised as infants in the lutheran church, and shortly after confirmation, the others quickly went their own ways, faithfully speaking. i never completed confirmation, but i later gained entrance into salvation through a loophole that automatically makes you confirmed when you take your first communion. saved! years later i gave up the church, salvation, streets of gold and mansions in the sky, all that, joining the ranks of the non-believers. my mother, later, was born again into the baptist church, and went through the whole baptism-by-immersion caca.

my sister's church is a rock 'n roll type of church. drums, electric guitars, maracas, and i am not making this up, interpretive dancers! yes, there were two girls in flowing purple dresses performing dances during the music portion of the floor show service. did i mention the minister looked like a yound-ish robin williams? of course one of the great undiscovered joys of attending a large six-flags-over-jesus size church with thousands of worshipers each sunday is cruising the hottie daddies sitting all around. and there were lots of them to eye. this being a rock 'n roll-type church, casual is the name of the game and one very hot man came in cassually late, sat across the aisle from me, wearing tennis shoes, running shorts, no underwear [i am cursed with a sixth-sense for noticing these things], and a t-shirt. at first i thought it was a passing runner who needed a respite from the heat in the air-conditioned sanctuary, but no, he had a bible with him as well. at last, i finally had something to worship. for a couple hours at least, knowing i couldn't commit to him past twelve noon, for there are other gods to be worshiped, this being the sabbath and all.

as the service ended, and we gathered to discuss lunch plans, i couldn't help but wonder: does cruising a hottie in a church condemn me to anything horrible for eternity even though i am not a participant in their particular belief system? and if so, what is hell?

as a child, my mother made us somehow believe that the devil put hot chains around your neck in hell. of course, in my childhood imagination the devil boiled those chains, more like necklaces than chains, in a copper-bottomed sauce pan just like the one my mother used for boiling eggs to make deviled eggs, one of the three "dishes" she knew how to make [boiled water and ambrosia salad being the other two dishes]. it's only now i see the connection:

copper sauce pan-boiling water-deviled eggs = copper sauce pan-boiling water-devil's hot necklaces.

holy crap, could my mother actually be the devil? i sometimes though she was a witch, but the devil? well, if so, the devil can't cook worth a damn!

in the background::gone like the water:freedy johnston