Fw: to heck with Saul Alinsky, I got troubles of my own

----- Original Message -----
From: "Carl Jarvis" <carjar82@gmail.com>
To: "Blind Democracy Discussion List" <blind-democracy@octothorp.org>
Sent: Tuesday, April 08, 2014 9:03 AM
Subject: I got troubles of my own


Typing with only three fingers on my right hand is getting to be a drag.
But my index finger is still some days away from being able to resume its
duties. The fingernail is toast, for sure. The swelling has gone down to a
point that I can almost bend the finger. Of course this is my best Braille
reading finger, and the one I always hurt.
My great uncle Walter was a carpenter. He helped to build many houses
across the midwest. Whenever Walter hit a finger with his trusty hammer, he
would shout out, "Peanut butter!" That is not what I shouted out when I
rapped the sledge hammer against my pinky. Not at all!
But this finger bashing got me to thinking. When my computer gets into a
jam, through no fault of mine, of course, I can reset it to an earlier date
and sometimes it reverts to good health.
"Well," I said to myself, "if my computer can do that, I'm certainly as
smart and even more deserving".
So I poured myself a tall glass of red wine and grabbed a bag of peanuts,
and stretched out in my recliner to turn my mind to the task of "resetting"
my finger.
Munching peanuts and sipping wine, I went inside my head and found the
Healing Control. I carefully travelled along the nerves, down through the
neck, along the shoulder, down the arm and into the hand, winding up in the
tip of my damaged finger.
"Heal!" I shouted.
"What did you say?" Cathy inquired, coming in from the kitchen. "Nothing.
I was just resetting my brain", I told her.
"Thank God for that", she quipped, and went back to the task of preparing my
evening feast.
Noticing that nothing had changed in my damaged finger, I decided to try the
other direction. Focusing on the painful digit, I pushed the damage out and
replaced it with a new, completely healed finger. In my mind I "saw" a
perfekct finger. Then, holding that image, I carefully moved my left hand
down and took hold of that finger, expecting it to be healed. Nothing.
"So," I said, sipping more wine and tossing back another handful of salted
nuts, "I guess I need outside help".
I brought my attention back to the center of my brain and then moved out
through the back of my head. Travelling at the speed of Light, I began
searching the Universe for that Healing Power that we all know exists, if
only we can connect with it. I began tingling all over, but could not seem
to make contact. But I stayed out there, soaring among the stars and stuff,
avoiding the Black Holes and Solar Winds.
"Dinners ready", came a distant voice. At first I thought I'd finally
connected with "The Power", but realized that it was Cathy's angelic voice
announcing that I'd fallen asleep.
Later I realized that the tingling I felt had more to do with the effects of
the wine, rather than some outer force.
So here I am, still pecking away with three fingers, waiting for Mother
Nature to take her course.
Reality can be such a drag!

Carl Jarvis