Excerpt from Chapter Seventeen One Thousand Years Genesage
One Thousand Years: Genesage
"I wouldn't pick one,"
A voice called out to him.
Brig turned around looking one way, and then turned around looking back. He didn't see
anyone. He stood for a moment considering, waited, then looked around again.
"Ok..,"
Brig said, feeling a little silly about what he thought he heard. Feeling equally silly that he could
not find whether he really heard a voice or not and now he was talking to it.
"Why not?,"
Thinking maybe one of his kids was playing a joke on him. Since that wasn't uncommon and
Brig was easy going He went along with it.
"Not Ripe"
He turned again quickly around looking as silly as he felt still not sure where the voice came
from. He fully expected it to be one of his kids. It didn't sound like one of his kids though.
"Oh."
Brig said a little disappointed more over not finding the person than the state of the Fig, which
really was not ripe yet. Brig wasn't sure but since the seagull sitting on the branch of the Fig
Tree was the only one besides himself with his mouth, err beak, moving he figured he had
gone bird brained.
"I suppose your Jonathan Livingston Seagull,"
Brig commented thinking he was being cute, sarcastic, or at least smarter than the bird. He
really did not think the bird was the one doing the talking but since he really had no idea who
was, he figured he could give one flight over the cuckoos nest and try talking to the bird and
see if he replied.
"Well until I talk to him again you can call me that,
but no I am not THAT bird."
" I am the one that will show you where you will take your family and settle. "
"Right..,"
Now he knew he was cuckoo.
Brig replied to the bird and had he been in the Old World he would have looked around for
cameras, expecting someone to come forward and reveal he had been "Punked" or on
"Candid Camera" both popular Television shows of his time that would set a person up for
humor and play a gag on them till the final punch line came and everyone would come out of
hiding and all have a good laugh.
This wasn't funny but it certainly was odd.
"You were expecting a Flock of Seagulls?"
Brig, unlike Joe, had been raised a Mormon. He had even gone on a mission to Jerusalem
working to teach Arabic children history class at a time when all they had heard or been taught
was an anti-Israeli version. Teaching others history, Brig had brushed up quite a bit on his own.
Brig knew the "Miracle of the Seagulls" but having been around seagulls a lot he hadn't really
placed much stock in that particular "miracle". Not wanting to offend anyone and never quite
having his theology down pat he remained quiet on the subject but thought someone
somewhere must have a sense of humor.
A flock of seagulls reportedly leading the early Mormons to their promised land in Utah?
What was that? Follow the droppings? Brigham had a sense of humor about the whole
religious thing, but knowing history, he knew someone believed it. Right now he had a hard
time believing what he was hearing and was having a hard time not laughing out loud.
-Excerpt from Chapter Seventeen of One Thousand Years: Genesage
A voice called out to him.
Brig turned around looking one way, and then turned around looking back. He didn't see
anyone. He stood for a moment considering, waited, then looked around again.
"Ok..,"
Brig said, feeling a little silly about what he thought he heard. Feeling equally silly that he could
not find whether he really heard a voice or not and now he was talking to it.
"Why not?,"
Thinking maybe one of his kids was playing a joke on him. Since that wasn't uncommon and
Brig was easy going He went along with it.
"Not Ripe"
He turned again quickly around looking as silly as he felt still not sure where the voice came
from. He fully expected it to be one of his kids. It didn't sound like one of his kids though.
"Oh."
Brig said a little disappointed more over not finding the person than the state of the Fig, which
really was not ripe yet. Brig wasn't sure but since the seagull sitting on the branch of the Fig
Tree was the only one besides himself with his mouth, err beak, moving he figured he had
gone bird brained.
"I suppose your Jonathan Livingston Seagull,"
Brig commented thinking he was being cute, sarcastic, or at least smarter than the bird. He
really did not think the bird was the one doing the talking but since he really had no idea who
was, he figured he could give one flight over the cuckoos nest and try talking to the bird and
see if he replied.
"Well until I talk to him again you can call me that,
but no I am not THAT bird."
" I am the one that will show you where you will take your family and settle. "
"Right..,"
Now he knew he was cuckoo.
Brig replied to the bird and had he been in the Old World he would have looked around for
cameras, expecting someone to come forward and reveal he had been "Punked" or on
"Candid Camera" both popular Television shows of his time that would set a person up for
humor and play a gag on them till the final punch line came and everyone would come out of
hiding and all have a good laugh.
This wasn't funny but it certainly was odd.
"You were expecting a Flock of Seagulls?"
Brig, unlike Joe, had been raised a Mormon. He had even gone on a mission to Jerusalem
working to teach Arabic children history class at a time when all they had heard or been taught
was an anti-Israeli version. Teaching others history, Brig had brushed up quite a bit on his own.
Brig knew the "Miracle of the Seagulls" but having been around seagulls a lot he hadn't really
placed much stock in that particular "miracle". Not wanting to offend anyone and never quite
having his theology down pat he remained quiet on the subject but thought someone
somewhere must have a sense of humor.
A flock of seagulls reportedly leading the early Mormons to their promised land in Utah?
What was that? Follow the droppings? Brigham had a sense of humor about the whole
religious thing, but knowing history, he knew someone believed it. Right now he had a hard
time believing what he was hearing and was having a hard time not laughing out loud.
-Excerpt from Chapter Seventeen of One Thousand Years: Genesage
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