SO THIS IS MORENO VALLEY!

This is a piece that I wrote in a blog that I maintain by the name of Crusty Kurmujjin.  I had not settled in to Moreno Valley yet since I was finishing up a major work project in San Francisco.  This was an opportunity that I took to visit the Voice from the Kitchen who had just begun working in Moreno Valley in July.  This is the story of what happened before my very modest eyes on the day of First Communion at St. Christopher's Parish.  Not a single FACT is the product of my imagination.
Ah, what a sight!  [1] There I was standing in the doorway, holding the heavy door open for your convenience as you helped your beautiful daughter cross the sidewalk and gain entry to the vestibule. She is so tall and so classic in her presentation of herself. She was clad in white satin, a perfect sculpture, an enrapturing goddess framed in the Gothic church door with a 1,000 watt smile, appropriate for her day.

Ah, what a sight!  [2] You too were quite a sight. Ebony hair waving around about your shoulders as if it had been conditioned for a television commercial. Your shiny, deep brown eyes, high cheek bones and luscious sensually puffed out lips all highlighting a stunning light chestnut complexion. The proximity of your extraordinarily attractive skin moving lithely around the off-setting pure white of your daughter's pre-teen presence was stunningly artistic.

Ah, what a sight!  [3]  Saving the best for last, I have to say that I was really swayed by the top half of your left breast which was decorated with a rather brazen tattoo. It is a mgnificent breast, a fitting companion for the one on the right. Glowing, gently bobbing, animating the tattoo so that it danced on the edge of the cloth that was either trying to hide it or succeeding very well in enhancing the presentation. It was all the more enjoyable because you were not paying the slightest bit of attention to me, only to your daughter trying to get through the door without snagging her magnificent gown. It was one of the more enjoyable 45 or 50 seconds of my life, and right in church too! This whole thing was climaxed by your eyes meeting mine and our lips communicating happiness and satisfaction by mutually complementing smiles. You then completed your entry, and I, my exit. But I'll never forget it.

I guess I'll never know whether to be disappointed or not that this all happened in church. I still haven't decided whether or not I should feel guilty for the prurient pleasure that I experienced for about one minute or whether I should cast the pall of guilt over to you for daring to appear in church on the day of your daughter's first communion with your sexual assets so audaciously exposed. I suppose I should thank God for allowing me the concupiscent pleasure at the sight of one of His more magnificent successes. I often wonder if you set out on a mission to broadcast God's gifts of glorious beauty in two rather complementary examples, one pre-pubescent and the other, ripe and succulent, sweet to the bone.
Conclusion: I've decided to enjoy the glory of God's creation as He exposed it to me that day in His church. I've decided that He sent you to me and to the others who derived similar pleasure from your well shaped and tastefully decorated anatomy. My experience tells me that after first communion the next time you will be at the door of the church, your feet will precede your breasts. By then, I will have been told by the guardian at the pearly gates whether I have sinned or not in the visual enjoyment of your body. Therefore, I wish you well, and I beg of you, when you go to church the next time, please cover your assets.

VIEW OF THE WORLD FROM THE ISLANDS COUNTRY OF PALAU

I am going to continue some of the thoughts that flew through my head yesterday but didn't make it on "paper."
When we arrived here in Moreno Valley some six years ago, we met a very loving and caring person who was born and brought up in the island country of Palau. You can see by the map that this small, really small, micro-country is in the general area where the first surges of the tsunami would have come ashore. So the woman, who has become a very dear friend over the short time that we have known her, was afraid that something could have happened to her relatives.  She read the post on this blog and then sent me this personal email that I am going to edit and paraphrase for you.  Some of it will be in the phonetic way that she writes, but I'll make sure you get to understand Pacific Islander as we go.  Here, let me put up a picture to give you an idea of the size and scope of this homeland of hers.  How's that?  Think you might want to go there and live?  You can perhaps start to get an idea of the life style of the people who populate this piece of the planet.  Let's listen to the report of the tsunami's effect on them.

I emailed my home Island and no one bothers to return my email.  Considering it was weekend there, people were not working.

They use their work computer.  I imagine nothing happened.  The ship

from USA was sailing there to check it out.  My sister heard from some in-laws in Guam so I guess everything is fine since it is an hour away by plane.

Yes, dear hearts there are places like this that still exist.  On Saturday and Sunday the clock stops and the sun takes over.  Monday is soon enough to start using the electricity again.  For us who live here, including the acculturated immigrants who have been here a long time, life in this slow lane has become a mystery.  We hear our friend say, "You know how life is on the island."  Actually, we don't know, but we can imagine.  We love this lady dearly.  She is so deeply spiritual and so deeply loving that she is a great presence in our lives.  Let me close with one of her thoughts.  You'll love this one.

You remember the comments I made about modesty and other serious matters in the post about pants and things?  There you'll notice what I mentioned about women wearing pants, etc.  Here, I now pass  the pen to my friend so that you can appreciate the depth of her spirit.  "One would think you re' a pant rant man.  You are not.  There is something in a woman wearing  a dress.  The  reason is to hide a womb. It is suppose to be sacred.  We veil what is sacred and holy like the Blessed Sacrament.  Also we wear veil as a sign of humility at least that is the original idea."

That's the wrap-up of this thought, with some help from the part of Paradise that fell into the Pacific Ocean.  Go, Palau.