Grasshopper Soup: Easter and other mysteries | SierraSun.com

Grasshopper Soup: Easter and other mysteries

bob Sweigert
Special to the Sun

Another gloriously white Easter has come and gone, or has it? Something as profound as Easter, and all it means, would seem to have significance beyond just one day. Even if the Easter story doesnand#8217;t excite you, what kind of mind could be so void of curiosity, or so busy, it just doesnand#8217;t have the time or patience to imagine the Easter miracle, and quickly brush it off without giving it a second thought, or even ask, and#8220;What if it is trueand#8221;? After all, there is nothing in the universe to prove it isnand#8217;t. At the very least, Jesus rising from the dead is just as fascinating today as it was 2,000 years ago. And Jesus was smart enough to get out of here just before the income tax deadline.

It would be unfortunate for anyone to dismiss Easter as a hoax just because some Catholics did something wrong. That would be like saying skiing or snowboarding is never any fun at all because some riders are rude. Or like saying that itand#8217;s a waste of time to enjoy the wilderness because some hikers litter.

There is no avoiding the wilderness. We are just as deep into it on Market Street in downtown San Francisco at noon as we are hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, maybe even more so. Either way, contemplating Easter never hurt anybody, and it has made a lot of people feel a whole lot better about where they are and where they are going.

In spite of Easter, earthquakes sure make people feel a little edgy. Along with the promise of eternal life, Easter Sunday also came with reports of an earthquake in Baja. Scientists were quick to point out that it wasnand#8217;t related to other recent earthquakes in the Pacific Ring of Fire. I just had to laugh when I heard that. Not related? Theyand#8217;re all earthquakes, arenand#8217;t they? And they all happened on the same earth, didnand#8217;t they? And, last I heard, rings are connected. Some scientists like to think they know everything.

Perhaps they just didnand#8217;t want to scare everybody. Just because the surface of the earth is made up of several moving parts called plates that float on molten lava and collide with one another doesnand#8217;t mean they are all related. Huh? I donand#8217;t know what they meant to say, but if those earthquakes arenand#8217;t related then it never snows in the mountains in April, and the sausages broiling in my oven are the healthiest thing in the world to eat.

Everything is related. What we know about the universe is directly related to what we donand#8217;t know about it. All the mysteries of life are conditions affecting what we think we know. Not knowing everything should make mysteries all the more plausible.

The smartest, wisest people on earth are the ones who can easily tell the difference between what they know and what they donand#8217;t know, and, when they donand#8217;t know, they are not afraid to admit it. You would think it would be easy to tell the difference, but, thinking we know what we donand#8217;t know is a typical human attitude and reflex.

Maybe you donand#8217;t know what I am talking about. I probably donand#8217;t know either.

My brother called me on Easter and asked me why I wasnand#8217;t up there in Spokane with him to help him shoot the wild peacock that keeps pooping all over his new deck. I said, and#8220;I donand#8217;t know, why canand#8217;t you hit it? He only has a single shot pistol, not a shotgun.

The peacock is too smart and keeps ducking, but now spends more time bothering the neighbor instead. Now the bird is getting shot at from both sides, and they still canand#8217;t hit it.

I said thatand#8217;s not a peacock, thatand#8217;s dinner, and Iand#8217;ll be up there with my shotgun as soon as I can. Just make sure you and your neighbor donand#8217;t miss the peacock and shoot each other.

Then my sausages started to explode in the oven, which, along with shooting peacocks, is miraculously related to earthquakes, death, taxes and other mysteries.

Bob Sweigert is a Sierra Sun columnist, published poet, ski instructor and commercial driver. He’s lived at Lake Tahoe for 27 years.