Definitive Answer For Question of Intelligent Design

Creation or evolution has been discussed and argued with passion since Darwin had the audacity to confuse everyone with his little tome concerning the origins of man.  Many people have been condemned to hell or declared stupid, irrational and illogical by those who believe in either creation or evolution.  Within the past few years another explanation for life as we know it has been proposed.  That explanation is called intelligent design.  As I understand it, proponents for the explanation called intelligent design believe somewhere along the way someone or something or some entity with intelligence designed life as we know it.  Obviously the grand designer with enough intelligence to make life and everything isn't God because then we would be here as a result of creation.  No, this intelligent designer thought of everything and made everything.  WOW!  Quite an accomplishment for sure.  I'd like to know how long the human species was on the drawing board before it looked like a working prototype (apes perhaps?).  And then to design something as complex and multifunctional as the human anatomy with its neurological and physiology aspects truly took a designer with a superior intelligence.  It has to be a really superior intelligent designer (not God, though) who could design and anticipate all those complexities which are needed for the human to be conceived, born, and live.  Everything works perfectly. 

I could agree with the intelligent designer concept of life except for one thing.  It seems to me a truly intelligent designer would have designed the human species with no flaws.  There is just one thing that seems to put a kink in the whole intelligent design idea.  The knees.  Let me make my case. 

I have spent years and years trying to figure out what to do with my knees when I try to sleep.  The knees are definitely not a good design.  I mean, really, what designer worth their salt would design such an important joint and not anticipate the difficulty of finding a good position for the knees when sleeping.  They don't fit together at all in any way in any position at any time during the night.  They are bony and it is impossible to find a way to position them where one bony knee isn't resting on the other and at the same time remain comfortable. On your left side the right knee is scraping on your left.  On your right side the left is on your right.  That hurts. So, then, try putting one leg next to the other with knees abutting. With four knees that is called spooning and for that I have no complaints, but I'm talking two knees now. Two knees spooning is uncomfortable.  And forget trying to get to sleep on your back with a pillow under your knees.  Just before slumber you roll on your side and the knees come in contact again and you're back to where you started..  I could go on and on with just how difficult it is to find a comfortable position to sleep but the point is that an "intelligent designer" would have anticipated all this difficulty with knees and would have designed a better concept.  So, the only conclusion I can make is there was no intelligent designer.  The whole knee thing puts that concept to rest.

Paper Route

I got a paper route when I was in the 7th grade.  Dennis Rouch had been our paper boy for over 2 years and one day at school he asked me if I wanted his route.  He was going into 9th grade that fall and no one in high school would ever have a paper route.  When you entered high school in the little town where I grew up in Kansas during the early sixties you followed proper protocol.  Certain things were expected of a freshman boy entering high school in the mid sixties and other things were not cool for him to do.  Paper routes were not cool.  Anyone could name several  paper boys in the past who surrendered their paper route before starting their freshman year in high school.  So, with due consideration of the start of his freshman year and following proper protocol, Dennis recruited me to take his paper route.  After some discussion with my mom and an understanding with her that the route would be my total responsibility, I was happy to take the route. 

The town I lived in was divided in two parts for paper delivery.  The South route and the North route.  I got the South route from Dennis.  He said I should accompany him for a week to learn the route so when I took over I wouldn't miss anyone.  That seemed like a good idea to me. So for one week I trained to be a paperboy. 

The South route had 105 customers which was probably one half of the number of all the households in the south part of town.  Dennis was an excellent paperboy and his customers appreciated his effort.  He hurried home from school and quickly packed the papers his mother had rolled for him into his bicycle baskets and took off on his bike like a madman.  Dennis was fast and efficient and, as quickly as anyone possibly could, he peddled the 2.5 miles up and down the streets delivering the papers.   He threw the papers from the sidewalks or streets onto porches like a hunter shooting a rifle, accurate and sure handed.  A few customers wanted the paper inside a porch door or in some other special location.  Fast as lighting Dennis would stop his bike, put the kick stand down, grab a paper from his basket and deliver it to the requested location.  Then, back on his bike and off he peddled again. It took Dennis about 45 minutes to deliver the daily paper and a little longer to deliver the thicker and heavier Sunday papers which required returning home and reloading papers for the last half of the route.  No stopping, just peddle fast and throw accurately.  It took me 3 days to begin to get the route down pretty good.  The fourth day Dennis had me ride in front of him and signal with my arm at which houses he should throw a paper.  He would call out to me if I overlooked anyone.  I did good that day and on Friday, the fifth day of training, he had me deliver all the papers myself.  He rode along to coach me and I was happy I had forgotten only one customer.  He did say I should peddle faster but assured me that after I got the route down pat I would pick up my speed.  In the back of my mind I just didn't know how that was going to be possible because it seemed to me I was at my maximum output.  But, I didn't say anything.  I didn't want to alarm him for several reasons.  First, I didn't want him to change his mind about giving me his route and second, I really didn't want anymore days of training with him.  After we reached his house on that last day of training he went inside his house and told his parents I would do just fine and, just like that, I was now was the paperboy for the South route of the Daily Journal. 

So, beginning August first of that year and after 1 full week of training by the best paperboy you can imagine, those 105 customers on the South route got a new paperboy and new service.  Not everyone was happy.

Shepherd

When I was a young man I visited my grandpa while on leave from the Navy.  He was in his 80's and long retired from the farm.  He moved to Kansas with his parents from Philadelphia.  Both parents were from Ireland and came to Kansas after a few years working for the Wanamaker family in Philadelphia.  Grandpa's father was a coachman and Grandpa's mother was an upstairs maid.  Grandpa was 6 years old when he drove the wagon the last few miles to their homestead.  Grandpa grew up in central Kansas, married, raised 11 children and buried two infants.  He and grandma lived through 2 world wars, a depression, the Korean War as well as every other thing that comes with trying to make a living on a small farm.  They made it as did almost everyone else of that era.  I don't recall grandma or grandpa or any of their children complain about their life.  They were dirt poor and rarely had more than enough, but that was what life presented them and they all seemed to accept it.  The children all grew to become responsibile adults with nice families of their own.  Grandma and grandpa finally moved from the farm and retired to a city nearby.  That is where they were living when I visited grandpa this particular day.  After the usual small talk and questions about health and the weather grandpa and I settled in our chairs to watch football.  After a while grandpa asked me what I planned to do after I got out of the Navy.  My four year hitch was nearly over and I had thought a little about my future plans but had not made any decisions.  So, that's what I told him.  "No plans as of yet, grandpa."  There was a long pause and then he said to me, "Have you thought about becoming a shepherd?"  I couldn't believe what I just heard.  " A what?" I asked.  Grandpa repeated himself, "A shepherd."  Another pause then he clarified his suggestion, "I often thought I would have liked to have been a shepherd."  A longer pause and then, "It would be just you and nature, no worries, no major responsibilities.  You could always feed yourself and not need a whole lot to live.  A cabin, some food, no money problems.  No one gets sick, no one goes hungry, no crop failures, no disappointments.  Get a good dog for company, come to town when you wanted to." 

I often thought I should have taken his advice. 

Snow Shovel

It snowed about 5" yesterday.  A nice snow with no wind.  The snow accumulated on birdbaths and fences and most anything.  It almost defied gravity.  Snow was several inches deep onn telephone lines and branches and other objects.  It almost seemed like an optical illusion.  How could snow settle and remain on such objects with out tumbling to the ground? Quite beautiful to look at, for sure. 

I also saw my driveway with 5" of snow accumulated.  I quickly decided not to shovel the drive but wait for warmer temps to melt my work away.  I'm too lazy to shovel what nature will take care of for me.  I would have rather the drive be shoveled but not by me.  I have enough to eat for a couple days and I'll just have to stretch the servings until the sun shows or I become hungry enough to shovel the drive myself. 

About 2:30 the doorbell rang and when I opened the door there stood a young man about 20 years old.  He wore a light cotton hoodie, jeans, tennis shoes and carried a snow shovel in his bare hands.  Of course I knew what he wanted.  So quickly the negotiations began.  "Do you want your sidewalk and drive shoveled?"  I asked how much and the young man replied $15.00.  I checked my wallet and discovered only $11.00.  He agreed began shoveling the stoop and then the walk and finally the drive.  I watched from the window and he deftly and efficiently tossed the snow to either side.  He worked methodically and didn't pause from start to finish.  I wondered how cold he must be in that light hoodie and without gloves. It took him about 15 minutes to complete the job and then the bell rang.

I gave him $11.00 and a pair of work gloves I had rarely used. 

Blogger Birth

I'm finally a Blogger and I'm unsure about it all.  I just hope my frustrations with cyberspace doesn't prohibit me from continuing this pursuit.

Cherry Pie

Today as I was walking down to Jigg Wood's Service Station for a bottle of pop Binnie Butcher saw me and invited me in for a slice cherry pie.  Binnie is always cooking and baking and her cherry pie is the best in the world.  That is my opinion and I'm not changing it so don't even try talking about your mother's pie or your grandma's pie or anyone else.  The reason Binnie's pie is the best is because of the cherries.  Binnie will even say that.  She has told me that many times over the years and I believe her.  Her cherries come from a cherry tree in her back yard that Binnie's mother planted when her mother was 8 years old.  Binnie is 92 so you do the math.  Binnie's tree isn't the very same one her mother planted but from a seed from a cherry from the tree Binnie's mother planted.  The original tree got old and quit producing so much and got hit by lighting and the trunk split and finally it just gave up on cherries and died.  I can remember the remnants of the original tree when I was kid.  The original tree was near the back of Binnie's house near the shed.  At that time there was one or maybe two branches on what was left of a trunk with a few leaves in the spring.  It seemed each year there were fewer and fewer leaves and finally none at all.  The old first tree finally died and gradually decomposed.  No one ever mentioned the dead tree and within a few years it was completely gone.  By that time the replacement tree was near by and thriving so Binnie's mother had plenty of cherries.  Now Binnie's cherry tree is getting old and there are dead and dying branches.  Binnie doesn't climb in the cherry tree anymore and asks me to help her pick the cherries when they are ripe.  Every year there are fewer cherries but still enough for Binnie and me to harvest and for Binnie to can during the summer.  Last summer we picked about 2 quarts.  After Binnie culled out the bad ones and the ones the ants and bees nibbled on Binnie told me she canned only 3 pints.  Binnie was disappointed and I told her to hold out hope because surely next summer would be better.   And then, in the dead of winter, when no one remembers summer or cherries,  Binnie will open a jar of her mothers's cherries and  make the best cherry pie in the world.  I just hope the tree keeps producing cherries for as long as Binnie can make her pies.  It's going to be close.

I AM Alive and Well

It was touch and go for a few hours.  Shortly after my cyberspace birth I wasn't sure I would survive.  After publishing my first entry I immediately logged out of this site and then searched for my name anxious to see how many people were already following me.  Alas, I didn't find my blog anywhere on the web.  How disappointing.  I searched for over 30 minutes and still no Gary Gray...  any where.  So, I resigned myself to the fact that I would not be a citizen of cyberspace and would have to be happy as a permanent resident of this place called earth.  I would always be tied to a house, a street address and a phone number.  None of the ethereal space stuff for this guy.  Such is life.  Then this morning I found me.  Or at least I found the spacey part of me.  Here... on this blog...  it was there.  gary-garygray.  I am born and alive and doing quite well, thank you.