Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Darken my Door

It's been a chilly couple of days here in Newfoundland.

There has been a near hint of frost in the mornings. Or perhaps it's whitish dew. At any rate, I wouldn't want to be out there with no pants on. The chilly air and brown leaves scraping off the cold sidewalk are pointing to the fact our short summer is now over.

I've had a couple of unexpected visitors at the house during my work days this week. Nothing so dramatic as the cops or starving clowns, but visitors nonetheless. The oddest visitor was a guy selling fish door to door. Now I know you all are picturing this fellow with a cod flung over one shoulder and perhaps a trout stuffed under his armpit. If fact he had the fish in a cooler in the trunk of his car. His careful concern about keeping the sea life cool was touching, yet not enough to inspire me to purchase something from the trunk of a stranger's car.

Sorry, got off topic there. My visitor yesterday was the Liberal candidate in our riding running in the provincial election to be held in about two weeks. We exchanged pleasantries and I assured her that I was firmly undecided on how I'm going to vote. I may not know until I'm standing behind the partition of doom looking at the list of names that inspire confidence. This woman will have an uphill battle as the current premier of our province is the Progressive Conservative representative in this riding. May the force be with you, Liberal lady.

photo from KSL. com
Today I had a visit from two smiling young men with back packs. You know the guys...they represent a certain religious group and wanted to come in and discuss Jesus Christ with me (and the dog who's collar I had a death-grip on). I informed them that it wasn't necessary for them to come in and educate me on JC. "May I ask why not?" he inquired. I assured them that if I was feeling like learning more about theirs, or any other religion, I was only a short walk from a number of churches, a mosque, a synagogue and even a Buddhist temple.

What seems odd is that these young men always describe themselves as missionaries for their church. I had never thought that we up on "The Rock" were considered 'Third World' (is that PC to use that term these days?) and in need of help from missionaries. Yes, perhaps a few years ago...but not now because we have been declared a 'Have' province and are rolling in wealth from the oil industry. Then again...the new wealth for some causes a growing gap between the rich and the poor. And perhaps that leads to more crime. Maybe a little salvation isn't a bad idea after all. I'll drop by that Buddhist temple tomorrow. Or maybe the mosque. or maybe...

7 comments:

Gigi said...

Oh yeah, we get those missionaries on occasion too....my husband usually tells them that his wife is a "rabid" Catholic (lies, all lies. I'm not rabid at all) and that they'd best leave before she gets home. It usually seems to work.

Come to think of it....he is constantly telling people lies about me. Like the time he told the contractor who'd mentioned that the job was going to take longer than expected.....I don't know what he actually told the guy -but it was something along the lines of me being certifiable, but before I knew it the guy finished the job and refused to look me in the eye the entire time...

Danielle Ferries said...

I wrote a story about someone similar to your last two visitors and in fact it's being released very shortly :)

Cathy Webster (Olliffe) said...

Those door to door religious salesmen drive me nuts. Why don't they ever show up when you need them? I mean occasionally, very, very occasionally, I'll be sitting there fully dressed with good hair, make-up and nothing to do, pondering the meaning of life and wishing there was somebody there to talk religion. But nobody shows up! But let me be in the middle of cooking dinner or writing or watching something really good on TV whilst wearing a ratty t-shirt and my holiest gotchies and, bang, there they are. If only they'd call ahead and set up an appointment. You have to be prepared to be missionaried. In the year before my father died he would invite them in and they'd have coffee and chat. He really enjoyed their talks and it turns out they were real people with real passion who were just a little too hooked on the Kool-Aid, if you know what i mean. It was bizarre, though... before he got sick my dad would be more likely to sic the dog on them rather than answer the door to them.
It's cool that you get so many people coming to the door. Almost nobody shows up at our house. Except the damned bears.

Laurita said...

I would not want a visit from a starving clown. Or any clown for that matter.

It seems that your doorbell is getting a workout. Perhaps you should start giving out some wisedom of your own when visitors come to call. Maybe print out a pamphlet.

K.C. Shaw said...

I have a Buddhist aunt who loves those missionaries. She invites them in, makes them tea, and they talk religion for hours. Doesn't change her mind one little bit, but I bet they think they're accomplishing something.

The last time I had missionaries show up at my door, it was when I lived in a house with extremely steep front steps at the top of a very steep hill...and my big Newfoundland (hey!) dog was lying on the porch at the top. They were in danger of being slobbered on to death if they didn't die of heart attacks first from the climb.

Laura Eno said...

We get missionaries here in the "third world" of Florida too. Come to think of it, we always did in California as well, but then California is a country unto itself. :)

Alan W. Davidson said...

Gigi- That's some ability...to be able to strike fear into folks with just the mention of your name. Bet it makes parenting a lot easier...

Cathy- Somehow I don't see you sitting about the log cabin much, all dolled-up waiting for the door-to-door religion peddlers to arrive. And the bears...I'm sure they wouldn't be nearly as much bother if they didn't crap on your lawn.

Laurita- I love that pamphlet idea. Bet I could peddle a lot short stories that way. Sorry about the clown thing from last blog. I'll put a warning up next time. Sort of a Bozo Alert.

KC- That's so neat that your aunt tries to make them feel like they're accomplishing something. Har! Nothing like a big dog to keep 'em away.

Laura- Yeah, I always figured that California invented the concept of strange folks coming to your door. Hey, you don't suppose they followed you to Florida?