Showers vs. baths.

A friend posted this on face book, hope you enjoy it.
Best
Leonard


Thru the past eight months I had grown accustomed to Dag, and his, here I gotta look for a political way to phrase this, "quirks". He was a hard worker who drove his earth mover relentlessly, a manic smile on his face, talking non-stop to himself beneath the din of the heavy machinery, as he busted open the hard, red, New Mexico clay.
He had a drive that few others possessed, even the most seasoned of hands on any crew i had ever seen. He wasn't old, by any stretch of the imagination, I mean-not like me, yet he was far from wet behind the ears. And though, when he wasn't cutting open the ground at break neck speed, or maneuvering his Deere like nascar idol and he was talking non stop, he seldom talked about himself.
So the past eight months have moved slow. No new hires, no new jobs. Just busting and clearing for the gas and oil companies that were finishing the drills they started in the fall, before the economy...fell. We needed a crew of six cutting brush and moving tinder out past the third cattle guard on Hart Canyon road near well # 117, so it was me, four of the long timers, and Dag. I brought him along for kicks, there was no dirt work for him today, and knowing he needed the pay, I was eager to see if he could handle a chain saw like he could an earth mover or a front end loader. We broke into three teams, hopped into the pickups and headed out.
It was only a fifteen minute drive out to the sight. I figured Dag would talk my ear off about Egyptian mummies, or the kind of wood George Washington's teeth were made out of, you know, one of his crazy fact based observations, but he was quiet.
He just looked at me every once in a while with this big ass grin, then look away and shook his head. It was starting to piss me off, but before I could ask him what the hell his problem was, we were deep in the canyon on the lip of the #117.
We were behind the water truck, and as we hit the less developed part of the road things slowed down. This was the part of the trip that could take longer than expected. I sighed, and rolled down the window a crack, and fiddled with the radio knob, even though i knew that there was not a signal to be had over this side of the bluffs. Dag smiled and shook his head.
"You ever read the Bible?" Dag asked.
"What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I read the Bible" I said. This guy presumes a whole bunch.
"The whole thing?" He asked.
"Enough to keep me from going to hell!" I said. "Look, if your gonna start in on the Bible this morning, keep it to yourself, okay? I'm not interested in what your New York Times reading- commie sympathizing-Clinton voting, tree hugging- ass has to say about God. I like God. God has been good to me".
"Okay" Dag said, smiling.
The water truck ground to a stop, the doors opened and Yazzie and Nelson, the two navajo drivers, hopped out and opened the hood. The road was too narrow to pass them, we were stuck for a while. I sighed loudly, wishing I had the foresight to remember my Coffee thermos. Dag raised his arms, placed his hands behind his neck, stretched himself out, and smiled.
"What are you so happy about this morning?" I asked.
"I am happy every morning, Trainwreck" he said.
"Well, what makes you so happy every morning?"
"Everyday I wake up, I am a victor, I have defeated my enemy
once more" he said.
"Oh boy, here we go. And your enemy?" I asked.
"Death" he replied.
I laughed out loud about that one, and lit up a Camel. "You may have won the battle, but that is a war you ain't never gonna win".
"My job is the little battles, the big one has already been taken
care of for me" Dag said.
I started feeling anxious. I had one of those trapped in a confined space with a person who is gonna start telling you crap you didn't want to hear kind of feelings.
I took a deep pull of the butt, rolled the window down a little more, and blew out a long slow cloud of smoke. The sun had risen a little further over the hill and was pounding through the windshield, stabbing me in the eyes. I tried to maneuver the visor to block it out, but it was no use. I sighed again.
"You're a Camel man, eh?" Dag asked, smiling.
"I am" I said, plainly.
"How long have you been cozying up with those monsters?"
he asked.
I could feel myself getting a little hot for no particular reason. Dag smoked. I seen him plenty of times. He carried a pouch of Bugler, and one of those magazine bought rolling kachinguses, so I knew it wasn't about the harms of tobacco. Still, it was making me uncomfortable, I wasn't sure where it was heading, but I didn't like it just the same.
"I have been a proud smoker of Camel brand cigarettes since i was
shittin yellow and suckin on my mommas tit" I said, smiling back.
"You paint a pretty picture, Trainwreck" he laughed.
I took a deep drag, and, blowing out a thick, blue cloud, tossed the butt out the window. A slight breeze carried it into some weeds by the side of the road. Before i could belch, fart, or say huh, the weed burst into flames.
'"Sonofabitch" I shouted, and jumped out of the truck and stomped the weed until the danger was gone. Yazzie and Nelson stopped banging on their engine for a moment and looked up, laughing.
"Hey Train wreck" Yazzie yelled, "doing a little rain dance?"
Nelson giggled like a school girl, and they went back to work on the engine, laughing and talking in Navajo. I got back into the truck and slammed the door. I was expecting Dag to be laughing his ass off, or at least smiling, but he was staring out the passenger window with far off look in his eyes.
"What, don't you have something witty to say?" I asked.
"Camel, they're a turkish blend, right?" he asked.
"That's what it says on the package" I replied.
"Well, it's American tobacco, right?" he asked.
"Well, yeah!" I said.
"What does that mean then, Turkish blend?"
"I don't follow"
"Well, its American tobacco, grown here, picked here, rolled
here."
"Yeah?"
"So what makes it Turkish?" He asked.
"The Goddamn palm trees on the stupid label" I shouted.
"You realize, of course, that they do not have palm trees
in Turkey?"
"Just leave me the hell alone will ya?" I said.
I was getting hot. The car was getting hot. I was getting irritable for no particular reason and wished to God that those two goofy redskins would get that water truck running and on up the damn road.
"What do you know about feet washing?" Dag asked.
I was starting to get steamed.
"So now you're gonna start in on my feet, are ya?" I growled. "If you
don't like the way they smell, stick your head out the window".
"I mean the washing of feet" he said.
"Don't start in my hygiene, I take a shower every morning when I
wake up, and another one when I get home at night. My feet are
fine. Not any stinkier than yours, at any rate."
"Not your feet. Feet."
"Feet?"
"Yeah, feet."
"I don't know what your getting at?"
"Foot washing" he said.
"I don't think I like where this is going. Foot washing?"
"Foot washing."
"You mean, like, in the Bible, or something?"
"Yeah."
"What do you mean what do I think of it?"
"Ever washed anybody's feet?"
"Hell no!"
"Ever had your feet washed?"
"No. I have not."
I was feeling less angry and a little more amused.
"Why, did you have it in your head that you were gonna wash my
feet this morning?"
"Did you want me to wash your feet?"
"Okay, I'll bite. What about the feet washing?
"You remember the episode in question?"
"Well, not in so much as I was there, but I know the story"
"Tell it to me"
"At the last supper, Jesus washed his disciples feet."
"And..."
"And what?"
"How did they feel about it? What did it mean?"
"I don't know, I think if I were them it would have made me a little
nervous."
"Why?"
"Well, how would you feel if I ran over to the water truck, got cup of
water and started washing your feet? You'd feel a little silly,
wouldn't ya? And how do you think Yazzie and Nelson would
react? Men just don't go around washing each other's body parts at
the dinner table."
Dag took out his pouch of Bugler, he took a wad of the loose tobacco and held it tight in his fist. He blew slowly into his fist and said:
"How did the disciples react?"
" They put up with it. Probably felt pretty good once you get past the
weirdness of it. I wouldn't like it."
"What about Peter?"
He blew long and soft into his fist.
"Oh, well he didn't go for it at first, like I said"
"Why is that?"
He blew into his fist again.
"Well, it made him nervous, he was like : 'Dude, nah, if there
is any foot washing going on here, It'll be me washing your feet,
you aint washing my feet, uh uh'.Peter knew Jesus was God, and
Peter wanted to serve God, to honor him. He didn't want to see God
degraded by getting down on his knees in front of everyone and
washing his feet like some kind of slave."
Dag blew into his fist again and said:
"Go on"
"Why are you blowing into your fist like that? That's distracting and
kind of annoying."
Dag laughed.
"My tobacco is a little dry. If I hold it tightly in my fist for a
while,and blow through it, the condensation from my
breath, and the sweat from my hand moistens it. Then it
burns slower. It makes for a more pleasing smoke."

"If you want it to stay moist just stick an apple peel in there. The
tobacco will absorb the moisture from the peel, and you get that nice
apple taste."

"I don't like apples".

Dag blew into his fist one more time, broke the tobacco up with his fingers, fished out his little rolling machine and papers, and twisted up a smoke and lit it with a silver zippo
"What happens next?"
"Well, Jesus tells Peter that if he won't let him wash his feet, then he
will have no part in him."
"Why does Jesus say that?"
"I don't know."
"What else happens?"
"Well, Peter starts getting a little goofy and asks to have the rest of
him washed. then he washes all of their feet and tells them to do it
for each other. Wait, oh yeah, he says, he says, 'Now that i have
done it for you, do it for each other, the servant is not greater than
his master."
"So, what do you get out of that?"
"Me? I don't know, that we are to be humble, I guess, and serve
each other"

I was impressed. He had been smoking that same cigarette for it seem like forever, and it wasn't even half gone. I lit up a camel. I began to wonder what
Dag's point was. He wasn't the kind of guy to lead you on and on without getting you somewhere, a point, a punch-line, something.
"So am I wrong?
"Not at all."
"Well, what does it meant to you?"
Dag took a monster drag on his square, the cherry burned a quarter inch down the shaft of his smoke, and burned bright. He opened his mouth and let the smoke roll out slowly, and inhaled it with his nose, finally ending with a couple of huge smoke rings. I could tell he was leading up to something.
"I was talkin with this Rabbi fellah at the rec. center. We
finished swimming at the same time, and were in the
shower at the same time."
I wasn't sure I wanted to hear anymore, but I still managed a "Yeah?"
"And he was talking about how important baths and
showers were to his faith. About the Mikvah, this special
bath they would have to bath in to be clean in front of God.”
It didn't seem like it was going to go the wrong way, so i tossed out another, "Yeah?”
"He told me that in the first century in Israel, that a Rabbi
would choose his disciples, take them to the Mikvah, su
pervise their bath, and after he had made sure they were
clean,that they belonged to him. He became their master,
and they followed him everywhere, they did all that he said,
memorized every word out of his mouth, and followed him
for the rest of their lives."
He seemed really concerned about this, so I had to rib a little:
"Well, you didn't let him scrub ya, did you?"
Dag laughed. "Nah, no."
"So what are you worried about then? Did you scrub him????!"
"Ha. No. It just got me to thinking that's all."
"Uh huh. Thinking about washing feet?"
"Yeah."
"What did you come up with?"
"Well, it got me thinking about the last supper. there
were some things there that just kind of made the
picture just a little different then it was before I had
that shower."
"Like what?"
" Okay. So I went home and I read The Gospel Of
John. And I get to chapter 13 where the feet stuff
happens, okay?"
"Go on."
"So Jesus is Jewish, right? Okay, so He starts wash
ing their feet, and he gets to Peter, right, and Peter
goes: 'Lord, do you wash my feet?'
"Well thats what I said."
"I know. And the disciples called him Rabbi, see? and
Jesus says, 'If I do not wash you, you have no share
with me.' Right? and I'm thinking: ah, if he doesn't
wash them, they don't belong to him! anyways, Peter
says: 'Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and
my head!'"
"I told you that!"
"I know. I know. LIsten, then Jesus says,'The one
who has bathed does not need to wash, except for
his feet, but is completely clean. And you are clean' .
So I'm thinking, Oh, they have bathed, they have had
a Mikvah! And now the rabbi is washing their feet, so
that they belong to him now for life, right?”
I was getting a little nervous again, but the water truck wasn't moving so I bit. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. then listen to what he tells them: “Do you un
derstand what I have done to you? You call me Rabbi
and Lord, and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your
Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also
ought to wash one another's feet.
For I have given you an example, that you also
should do just as I have done to you' get it?"
"Yeah..."
"Yeah, he says, ' I say to you, a servant is not greater
than his master, nor is a messenger greater than
the one who sent him..."
"Right. like I said..."
"Right. So what does it mean?"
"A servant is not greater than his master?
"Yeah, what does it mean? Is the servant ever
better than his master?"
"It means we are supposed to be equal."
"Then why is one guy washing and the other guy
getting washed? Who would the servant be,
the washer or the guy getting washed?"
"I guess the guy doing the washing would be the servant"
"So Peter was Jesus' master?"
"What? No! I mean, Yes, Jesus was everyones servant. He is
everyone's master though, too!"
"So who is serving and who is being served?"
"So, you mean we can serve someone by letting them wash our
feet?"
"Well, what do you think?"
He was driving me nuts. My head was starting to hurt. I was having trouble seeing what he was getting at. Jesus commanded them to do this for each other, so he wanted them to wash each other's feet. The only thing i could make of it was that they were to be humble, do stuff for each other, and to have clean feet.
"Dag, I'm getting a little tired from lack of motion and lack of caffeine.
Why don't you just put it all together for me? Have a little pity?”
Dag seemed to like that. Like he had been waiting for this moment. He took the last drag off of his hand rolled number and snuffed it in the ash trey. He blew out a cloud of smoke, pushed in the ashtray and took off:
"Okay, see, first off, Jesus is their rabbi, they call him
rabbi, and he has bathed them in the mikvah. They
have been baptized into him, and belong to him. They
agree to submit, serve,and see to his needs,
He takes responsibility for them and agrees to lead,
love, and teach them for the rest of his life.
Then he tells them to do this for each other, so that they
will each submit themselves to each other
as servants, but also each take responsibility for each
other as rabbi's. Not only are they to be equal
to each other, they are to own each other also, follow?
There is no greater, each must teach, and each must
serve, and they are to do this to and with all who come
together with them under Him!"
He had really worked himself up, the veins were bulging in his neck and forehead, the truck was rocking with the violence of his gestures. He Honked the horn and shouted out the window:
"RABBIS AND SERVANTS ALL!!! IF YOU KNOW THESE
THINGS, BLESSED ARE YOU IF YOU DO THEM!!!"
LOOK OUT YAZZIE!! REPENT NELSON, I AM
COMING UP THERE AND I AM GONNA WASH
YOUR DIRTY, STINKING, FEET! YOUR FEET
BELONG TO ME!!!!
Nelson and Yazzie stopped and looked around the water truck smiling. Yazzie jumped into the big red monster and turned the key, and the engine turned over and barked. It began to hum. Nelson slammed down the hood, hopped into the passenger seat and they lurched forward and on up the hill. I started up the truck, and within seven minutes we were at the #117. The other guys had beaten us there and were taking advantage of my absence by laying around and napping. I got them all on their feet and asked Danzer, one of long timer's, to show Dag the right way to cut down a tree. Dag laughed. He grabbed a chain-saw, pulled his safety googles on and said:
"Trainwreck, there ain't no right way to cut down a tree".
He fired up the chain saw, winked, and headed off into the brush.



Charles Pike aka Trainwreck