The small community church at the top of our oxcart road was given a piece of statuary about a year ago–of a figure that I suppose, given the Warner Sallman depictions we’ve grown up with, begs the assumption that this is Christ. At any rate, the plaster form is making a non-threatening gesture of acceptance and welcome, and doesn’t seem the kind of object a normal person would find worthy of a drive-by shooting.
But somebody did–a few nights ago. Take it away, Kris…
Egg Head’s cousin Red Neck’s cussin’ hippies for their hair.
Others laugh at straights who laugh at freaks who laugh at squares.
Some folks hate the whites who hate the blacks who hate the clan.
Most of us hate anything that we don’t understand.
‘Cos everybody’s got to have somebody to look down on.
Who they can feel better than at anytime they please.
Someone doin’ somethin’ dirty, decent folks can frown on.
If you can’t find nobody else, then help yourself to me.
…Long hair, beard and sandals and a funky bunch of friends.
Reckon they’d just nail him up if He come down again.