Getting back to what Jesus will drive, my dad’s name is Jesus and he drives a pick-up. spooje you are right.
I always picture Jesus in a VW bus. Sorta fits with the whole long hair, robe & sandals motif.
And don’t forget that Jesus was a Capricorn.
Since Anthracite stole my post, :), I’ll say that I always figured he wouldn’t drive at all - just sort of fly around with his arms at his sides, like the bad guys in Dark City…
Im convinced Jesus would take the bus or walk. Ancient peoples tended to be more respectful of nature than we are today. They knew if they pissed in the ocean than Neptune would drive a proverbial harpoon up there ass (its infinitely more complex than that, but Im to lazy to argue the point)
Before I got my Willys people would occasionally park in my space. (The Willys lives there all the time now, and my Cherokee gets parked on the street.) I’d just park behind the intruder. Then they’d have to find out whose space they were in and find me. Then I’d move my car when I got around to it. Fortunately for them, I’d never happened to have walked down to the cinema to take in a film.
When I get my MGB I’ll move the Willys to storage. (I only use it on weekends.) The MGB and the Cherokee will take turns taking me to work. Someone will probably use my space when the MG is out, and they’ll get stuck there.
FWIW, I wrote a script for a short film that involved a guy falling into an interdimensional nexus. On a lonely desert road he was given a ride by God, who was driving a blue, beat-up 1972 Ford Courier pick-up.
EJsGirl: It’d hafta be chartreuse, too, I think.
[sub]I gotta stop gettin’ my religious teachin’s from novelty songs.[/sub]
Waddaya mean would? Jesus drove a VW Microbus.
At least, I pretty sure it was Jesus.
I wrote a script dealing with a real life driving event that was similar to your story. I was driving my daughter and my ex home on I-5 from Disneyland to Portland and was between Stockton and LA and pulled in to a diner while my child and ex were asleep so I could grab a coffee and a pee and a smoke.
While in the diner I sat at the counter next to what I surmised was the owner of a 1934 Indian Chief parked out front. It was a haggard and dirty old biker with a face similar to Santa’s (helluva vision for a kid who was nudged toward rabbinical studies). After I admired his bike the fellow confided that he was god, and I believed him for some reason. Anyhow he told me my entiore life as it was to unfold and said it was okay as I would only remember what he said as it happened and the only reason he told me this was that I was someone who needed reassurance that things were as they were supposed to be. He said that I had a lot of bad stuff to deal with and he felt kind of shitty about it, but it was nessisary so he figured the least he could do was to let me know it had a purpose.
After talking for what seemed like days I got back into the car completely refreshed and resumed my trip home. To this day I believe that has to have been the most lucid dream I have ever had and in all truth the only reason I ever waver in my atheism is that any time something really hard happens in my life I have a deja vu and remember this “dream”.
Years later I wrote a script which started with this story, followed by the events of the life and closing with me in a bar trying to trade the story for a drink at the bar. One newcomer to the bar listens patiently to my story and buys me drinks and asks me if I think I benefitted from having this skewed foreknowledge or if it was a burden. I state honestly that I just don’t know as i have had only one life and can’t compare my burden to the unique burden of anyone else. At this point a loud (and established earlier in the script) Indian Chief motorcycle pulls up and a rider outside the bar beckons me out to join him. It is of course God which excited me very much, and I attempt to get everyone’s attention to demonstrate that I’m no liar but no one sees my frantic waving and I then see my own body and know I am dead. It is known to me then by a voice inside my head that my entire life was lived to give the man buying me drinks at the end a glimpse of faith and belief.
I still think the story is a workable one and I picture myself playing myself. God would be Jack Elam (is he alive?). If “Touched By An Angel” is marketable then my story is sure as hell worht selling.
Tautology, then?
(thank you, word-a-day calendar! :D)
Zen, I’d pay eight bucks to see that. I like it. I like it a lot.
Wow, thats really nice of you to say. Funny thing is, it’s nothing like anything I would normally watch. I mean I caught that “Highway to Heaven” show a few times in the 80’s, but the story, as proud of it as I am, isn’t really my cup of tea.
I’m actually considering a re-write and asking a friend (a pro) to assist me with a rough draft that i can take and shop around as a novella. The rewrite would have a more generic diety figure, possibly morphine between the many faces of humanities idea of what a divine being is.
Skeezix is right about the color. But sublight, it was his buddies in the Microbus.
As if anyone else cares, the song Convoy talks about “11 long-haired friends of Jesus in a chartreuse Microbus.”
