Im a Heathen and Jesus is Tacky

The conversation written below is an actual conversation I had with the wife (Lois) of a co-worker as she picked us up in Dayton. My co-worker’s (his name is Rick) car broke down at a Circle K. On the way home we passed by the four-story Jesus at the Solid Rock Church… Excuse the poor writing, but just didn’t feel like expressing every detail…

Michael: “Ha ha ha hamahaha haha!”
Lois: “What? What are you laughing at?”
Michael: “The four-story tall Jesus! Ha haha ha ha ha”
Lois: “Why on earth are you laughing at it?”
Michael: “Cause it’s tacky.”
Lois: “Whaaaah? Your’re a bad boy! How dare you say such things about the Lord—You’re a bad boy! Your mamma must be so disappointed with you…”
Michael: “You have no idea—”
Lois: “I bet I do. ‘Sides, you can’t think that statue is tacky. It’s beautiful, look how he’s got his hands all raised to the Lord. He’s pleasing to look at. Just looking at him makes me smile. You can’t make fun of that.

I hate when people use the line, “you can’t think…” I can damn very well think whatever I please. And oh, by the way, I can and will make fun of that damned statue. Just you watch me.

Michael: “It makes me smile too!”
Lois: “Oh stop!”
Michael: “‘Sides, I’m Catholic, and we don’t like our statues to be happy and gleeful. We like our statues to be morbid, gothic, ect. I'm used to his image being pinned to a couple 2X4's... That 'Jesus' rising out of the water like that with his arms arched to the heavens—"
Lois: “I think he’s being baptized…”
Michael: “I think he’s just happy to have finally gotten a bath. I know I’d have been happy at that moment. Runnin’ all over Israel in the hot sun with his twelve buddies. I bet he smelled like a camel.”
Lois: “That’s an awful thing to say about your God. You’re a bad boy.”
Michael: “It’s not really him—it’s just a giant plaster statue of him—something about false idols—I dunno…”
Lois: “That’s awful! I have never heard anyone say that about that statue before… I’ve heard quite a bit too—mostly from people who had no real opinion about it. But to say it’s tacky—”

She was trying to look cross, but was doing a very poor job of it. A slight smile was beginning to creep into the corners of her mouth. So I went a little further…

Michael: “Okay, okay, okay so you never heard it before. Yay me !”
Lois: “Don’t be proud of that fact.”
Michael: “Come on, I mean imagine that forty foot tall goliath standing in front of your house…”
Lois: “But it there weren’t any houses around it.”
Michael: “Yes, but that’s not the point. I mean, would you place that big thing in front of your house?”
Lois: “No, but—”
Michael: “How about this, how would you feel if someone else put that thing in front of your house… blocking all the windows with his gigantic outstretched hands?”
Lois: “I wouldn’t like it—but that’s not the point—”
Michael: “Neither would God! The church is his home and he looks out the window, shaking his head, saying ‘JEEESUS CHRIST! It’s bad enough that you guys killed my only son, but now y’all turn him into a lawn ornament too?’”

Now she can’t help but to laugh! I mean it’s fucking funny… the damn statue is tacky, so tacky—it’s funny. She laughs, I laugh, she calls me a “bad, bad boy” again, and then she flips on the radio so she doesn’t have to hear anymore from this blaspheming heathen.