The Suburbanites

Author unknown

God:

Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all see are these green rectangles.

St. Francis:

It's the tribes that settled there, Lord...The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

God:

Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

St. Francis:

Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

God:

The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

St. Francis:

Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it...sometimes twice a week.

God:

They cut it? Do they then bail it like hay?

St. Francis:

Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

God:

They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

St. Francis:

No Sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

God:

Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

St. Francis:

Yes, Sir.

God:

These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.

St. Francis:

You aren't going to believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

God:

What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.

St. Francis:

You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

God:

No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?

St. Francis:

After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

 

God:

And where do they get this mulch?

St. Francis:

They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

God:

Enough. I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?

St. Catherine:

"Dumb and Dumber", Lord. It's a real stupid movie about...

God:

Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

\

A bum, who obviously has seen more than his share of hard times, approaches a well-dressed gentleman on the street. "Hey buddy, can you spare two dollars?"

The well-dressed gentleman responds, "You are not going to spend it on liquor are you?" "No, sir, I don't drink," retorts the bum.

You are not going to throw it away gambling, are you?" asks the gentleman. "No way, I don't gamble," answers the bum.

"You wouldn't waste the money at a golf course for greens fees, would you?" asks the man. "Never," says the bum, "I don't play golf."

The man asks the bum if he would like to come home with him for a home cooked meal. The bum accepts eagerly. While they are heading for the man's house, the bum's curiosity gets the better of him.

"Isn't your wife going to be angry when she sees a guy like me at your table?"

"Probably," says the man, "but it will be worth it. I want her to see what happens to a guy who doesn't drink, gamble or play golf."