It’s amazing to me how these people line up willingly to be turned into bar codes—little more than the fine print on a can of beans. They have such faith in their leaders. Never happen back on Earth. We don’t trust our leaders to do anything for us except think and spend our money I guess? Here they are thousands and thousands of them smiling as they enter large metal framed cylinders to have their essence turned into Human, well almost Human bar codes. At the rate this is going we will be ready to take off in a few days.
Ilo said, “What does this latest message from Earth mean, Johnny”
“Means they want us to slow down, to wait a few months. They aren’t ready to receive you in the Everglades yet. They need to at least put up temporary housing for one million people and they can’t do that in less than six months. They will need to use part of the Everglades National Park for you and some of the park still needs to be drained. They are talking about a wet and sandy tropical territory of more than one and one half million acres. They say they can’t get ready overnight. ”
“Johnny, tell them not to worry. We will build our own housing using only materials readily available to us in the immediate area and will compensate your government fully for anything we use in diamonds from our caves here in Citra. We are bringing them with us. We will be there in less than a week.”
“Ilo, they don’t understand how inventive and technologically advanced you are. Either do I for that matter. I don’t know how you do most of the things you do.”
“I know it’s hard for you to understand Johnny, but most of what we do is based on using our imaginations. If we can imagine something, we can make it happen.”
“Ilo, You mean what you build is not real, but virtual? I hope your spaceship is real.”
“Don’t worry, Johnny. Our spaceship is as real as you perceive it to be.”
“Oh Boy, I don’t have the kind of imagination you do. Hope this works out.”
“ Relax, Johnny, everything will be all right. Just have faith,” Ala said. “My people know what they are doing.”
A Thanksgiving message from Johnny Oops and Arthur Levine
You might well ask what's so special about having a turkey sandwich on Thanksgiving, but it is who it came from and how it was made that's special. In fact it was the best turkey sandwich that I Johnny Oops the prophet, and a fictional character in a novel by the same name ever had, if you can believe that. You see I was all alone at home and feeling sad and lonely.
I was resigned to spending Thanksgiving alone in Rancho Santa Fe, California. My wife was visiting her father, The Kabalistic Rabbi Frenbren, in France with our son to introduce him to our twin grandchildren prophets - Precious and Pretty. Anyway I was lonely. I don't like feeling lonely on the holidays, what about you?
The truth is I felt lost shuffling around this huge house of mine all by myself. I had given the staff off for the holidays, and the silence was deafening. Then I heard the doorbell ring. I ran to the door my heart pulsing fast, hoping it was Jody back from France with my children to surprise me for the holidays, but I knew in the back of my mind that wasn't going to happen.
I opened the door and there was Jonathan my chauffer, administrative assistant and all around good guy. I asked him why he was here in the middle of his holiday celebration.
He said, "Well Sir, you know I don't live too far away, and the Misses thought since we had more turkey than we could possibly eat that you might like a turkey sandwich since you were home alone as it were."
I told Jonathan that was very thoughtful of him and his wife, and asked if he would like to come in for a drink of eggnog or something. He thanked me, but said he wanted to get back to his family. I understood and wished him well and thanked him again for the sandwich.
A few hours later I felt hungry and went down to the kitchen to open the basket with the turkey sandwich. Inside a red and white checkered napkin that lined the basket was a note from his wife thanking me for all the kindness I had shown her husband over the past year. I really don't know what she was talking about; I just try to adhere to God's admonition to care for other people. I guess I must have done something right for a change.
Then I unwrapped what was in the basket. It contained a large sandwich made on homemade dark rye bread, cut in large diagonal slices, and stuffed with huge slabs of white meat turkey with the crispy outer skin still attached. It was slathered with the most delicious Russian dressing mixed with finely chopped sweat gherkins. It smelled great. On the side Jonathan's wife had added plastic containers of Cranberry sauce, the most delicious sausage stuffing, marshmallow topped candied sweet potatoes, and a huge slice of homemade apple pie carefully wrapped in aluminum foil. I devoured it all not bothering to heat anything up. Frankly I am not to good around the kitchen. There is no question in my mind that this was the best Thanksgiving turkey sandwich I ever had. I only wish that Jody was here to share it with me.
Just as I was finishing, Jody called from France. She was worried that I was home alone and lonely. I told her not any more because Jonathan had just brought me a special turkey sandwich with all the trimmings, and her call was the most special holiday treat of them all. I took advantage of the holiday spirit to tell her once again how much I love her and our son Johnny Oops Junior and our beautiful twin grandchildren. She told me that she felt the same way and promised never to be away from me on the holidays again.
Sometimes it's the little things that make a difference. Sometimes it is the kindness and caring of other people that really touch our hearts. Sometimes a simple gesture can reassure us on the holidays that our loved ones care for us, and we don't have to feel alone. After all, God is always with us. Isn't that the only reality that really matters?
This holiday season might be an especially good time to thank God for all the blessings He has bestowed upon us: the family and friends He surrounds us with so that we are not all alone, and the people we know who really care about us no matter how far away they are from us on the holidays.
These are the 'words' of your new friend Johnny Oops the prophet, and my message is that, "I care for you and wish you and yours well. You don't have to feel alone any more. In spite of the natural disasters and acts of terrorism that afflict us, we all have a lot to be thankful for: so many new friends and loved ones to cherish, so many we haven't even met yet, and so many acts of kindness to cherish. The best is yet to come. Isn't life wonderful? Have a very happy and healthy Thanksgiving"
My Best,
Arthur Levine
This is shaping up as the Thanksgiving when people return to old fashion values and go sparingly on all the exotic side dishes that have come to signify the opulence of the Holiday and our own sense of excess.
In a lot of respects this Thanksgiving promises to be something special – something we can really be thankful for. In spite of a recession, families will once more gather to rejoice in their freedom and the bounty of their table, but this time most if not all of the trimmings will be homemade and not store bought. Is that so terrible? I rather like it, and the smells coming from the kitchen make my mouth water in anticipation.
You do remember the aroma of a home made apple pie wafting from the oven through the kitchen and out into the living room of a home you can afford to live in where a happy group of family and friends are gathered before a roaring wood burning fire, don’t you? Life can be good.
Is eggnog any better when laced with twenty-five-year-old brandy than with cheap dark rum? Does a Ford compact car get you where you want to go as well as a Mercedes Limousine?
What store bought barbequed bird can compete with a twenty-pound turkey basting in its own juices as its skin crisps and the smell of sausage and cornbread stuffing sends the dog whining in anticipation and dancing in circles?
Do the children playing games in the hallway know the difference between Oysters Rockefeller and chestnuts wrapped in bacon?
Is pumpkin and squash soup any less delectable and tasty then lobster bisque from the gourmet store? Are eating fish egg caviar what the pilgrims had in mind for their day of Thanksgiving?
If we are not alone, if we can share the holiday together, what difference does it make if we can’t spend a lot of money on some fancy trimmings? We have more than most people can hope for. We have a bounteous table of our own making, and the family and friends to share it with. We have a lot to be thankful for. We are together. We are free.
Too much emphasis on having all the exotic trimmings we can conger up may be why we got into this recession to begin with. Thank God the American public has enough sense to know when to stop spending on fancy luxuries they can do without, and start saving for their own and their children’s future.
When we all remember the lessons of the past that our parents and grandparents tried to teach us, we will truly have something to be thankful for. Then this recession will really be gone, and the real trimmings of a wonderful life will come racing back to us with our heartfelt thanks. They will always be ours to cherish and remember.
May the trimmings of your heart and mind make your cup full of love to the brim and your sense of joy running over.
Have a Happy, Healthy Thanksgiving.
*****
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
New York, NY – Even if you are Magenta colored with Yellow hair like the son of Johnny Oops 11 in the novel Johnny Oops 11 - Timeless, you can’t color-code your emotions and get away with it. Doesn’t matter to this rocket scientist who visits new planets and starts new races of people whether you are Blue like his wife, Ala of the Indolt race who are telepathic, or green like the Fugats, or striped like the Juicers, or Magenta colored like his son, Johnworld 1
What matters is that you care about people of all colors and stripes, and respect their differences as you strive to develop a great new intergalactic society that encompasses all people of good faith.
Johnny Oop’s son, Johnworld 1 is intent on propagating different races and is quite prolific in this endeavor causing the ire of the government of the US and many members of different existing races whose daughters he impregnates using a combination of normal techniques and a mind meld. The result is children who grow rapidly and advance physically beyond their normal years. The result is overcrowding in the US pushing humans into Mexico to find work and eventually the Magentas to a new planet called Everworld where they find the paradise of their dreams.
On the planet of Everworld, Humans, Magentas, Indolts, Stripers, Fugats, and Juicers all come together to fight the evil spirits of artificial intelligence agents called the Tom Toms to form a great new society where the color of your skin is less important than your faith in a common God.
Their world only partly created, Johnworld, Johnny Oops 11, and Ala are summoned by the Mermaloids—a group of half fish, half humans to swim through the deep lake to find the paradise of their dreams. This paradise is a way station of timeless dimensions on their passage to a spirit world and Heaven.
Contact:
Arthur Levine/Author
Johnny Oops 11 – Timeless
http://johnnyoops.blogspot.com
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005XP2GPO
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/100269
Available on Kindle, in print on Amazon, and on Smashwords in most digital forms.
Two days later, Ala, Johnworld, Ilo, all the Magenta grandchildren, and their mothers as well as myself are arrested by agents of the FBI on suspicion of being homegrown terrorists. We are accused of plotting to take over the United States with a new alien race called the Magentas. The officers of the TV production company who sponsored our wedding are also arrested on charges of adding and abetting and the TV station, which is preparing to run our reality TV show, is threatened with the loss of their license to broadcast by the Federal Communications Commission
Me a terrorist? Never happen. I need a lawyer. Senator Wills says he will have nothing else to do with us. The ACLU says they don’t defend Homegrown Terrorists unless and until they are brought to trial after being illegally incarcerated for at least two years. We need help. What do I do?
We are temporarily housed in the Park Avenue Armory on 68th street in NYC, which is the host to the antique show. I’m surprised we weren’t put on display as relics from another era or is that planet. Our treatment is pretty bad. We are questioned day and night, feed only sparingly, refused any needed medical treatment, and denied access to lawyers. Surprisingly we Humans were treated the worst. The FBI and Homeland Security were convinced we were part of some grand conspiracy to take over the United States. At the end of one sleep deprived three-hour interview with some thuggish CIA agent on loan to the FBI I was half convinced they were right. Nice to see all these agencies finally working together, but why did I and Ala and my son have to be the target of their new spirit of cooperation.
Did you ever have a dream that you were trapped in a small room, stripped naked, hanging by your arms from a ceiling beam and waiting to be tortured by a black hooded manic with a bullwhip slashing back and forth in his hand. That’s how I felt.
Thank God for the Indolts. They come to our rescue and threaten to take their diamonds and leave for another world if we weren’t treated properly. And so ensues a long negotiation over the Indolt status as resident aliens and the future of the Magentas,
We are released on conditional probation based on everyone promising not to propagate with anyone no matter how we feel about anything until we come of age. I think they threw us Humans in only because they had mistakenly gotten into their heads we controlled the diamonds. I guess in a way as agent to the Indolts I did.
Johnworld arrives with his steady girlfriend, Anna, in a pink tuxedo jacket with white linen pants and purple patent leather loafers. He immediately goes over to a large potted palm tree that is guarding the entrance to the ballroom, unzips his fly and urinates at the base of the palm tree on national TV. I’m so humiliated. Ala explains to me it’s a custom of the Magentas to mark what they perceive to be their territory. I though animals do that.
All twenty-eight of our Magenta grandchildren—four of Johnworlds ladies had twins—are dressed in pink tuxedo jackets, white linen shorts and little pink or blue patent leather loafers depending on whether they are boys or girls. Although they are all less than one year old, they look and act seven year old. They sit quietly through the ceremony with their mothers and grandparents. Then they start marching around the dance floor and the tables in some type of herd mentality marking their territories as their father did and shouting, “We are coming. Their mothers and grandparents look startled as do the rest of the Human guests.”
The banquet manager puts out yellow plastic stanchions that say, “Watch Out, Slippery Surface.” but they don’t help that much as the invited guests go slip sliding around the dance floor.
