Words B Word, Right? - Cathy Lorraine Bagley MD

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mics as we mock performancers on disheveled beds.

      To me, those songs convey happier

       old-fashioned, creatively adaptive times

       in their lyrically quirky, story-telling,

       memorable shoo-be-doo-be rhymes.

       Memories now are patchy but Momma emphasizes

       the past wasn’t always as rosy as she’d mention.

       There was turbulence marked by ignorance, fear.

       Hatred’s flag led marches in times of racial tension.

      Street eruptions spread by a seemingly omnipresent media:

      propaganda, half truths… in many ways, were worse than now.

       But then those simply complex people overcame adversities by

      perseverance, covert methods like Shoo-bee-doo-ing somehow… Momma smiles hearing Shoo-be-doo-be

      despite the fact that she still remembers

       lop-sided, too-small shoes worn with holes

       and never ending destitute, cold Decembers

       When even Santa was too strapped to visit!

      Regardless, be-doo-be radios transmitted holiday cheer. With little food in fridges or lining pantry shelves, they dished up big hope, fed spirits by soundwaves originating from somewhere magical! Good times came encased in wood with innards of bulbs, and circuitry. Amazing! Record-players spun webs captivating audiences with their vinyl artistry. Grinding, clapping, twisting body parts always

       brought light despite an often unlit Christmas tree.

      I’m so glad for past gifts of fellowship, working radios, phonographs and currently,

      I’m thankful dementia hasn’t stolen all memories from her or my Momma from me!

      That’s why shoo-be-doo-be songs will live forever archived deep inside this soul. Imparting them to my children as they were

      to me has become a paramount goal.

       I’ll enjoy watching them sway, hop about

      acting as care-free, giddy as I once did

       when Momma with animated eyes, sang to me.

       Those tunes still unleash my inner kid.

      Progress steadily pushes me forward. Be-doo-be’s counter. Abracadabra- poof…

       I’m back in that imagined place with Momma in her right mind with our shoo-be-doo-be friend!

      I often wonder whether her era was more entrancing, charismatic than mine today

      as I glide against time on its magical sound waves watching Momma’s memories fade in, out again.

      Animals Made Obedient, Enlightened By Allowed Sentience (a.k.a. A.M.O.E.B.A.S. Project)

       Animals Made Obedient, Enlightened By Allowed Sentience (a.k.a. A.M.O.E.B.A.S. Project.)

      The pioneering Animals-Made-Obedient-Enlightened-By-Allowed-Sentience (A.M.O.E.B.A.S.) project was fraught with disappointment! Despite much deliberation and consideration by a thoughtful Maker, they digressed from purpose resulting in a self-serving, self-loathing, unappreciative, heedless, suspicious, perverted race of men. Their Creator benevolently allowed regeneration and propagation after nearly annihilating their populace countless times. He was most merciful sparing few from at least one familial line to repopulate following natural disaster, pestilence, famine brought down upon them… but why when all was aligned? Peace blanketed everywhere for always in a time preceding notions of death when a vast, crowded universe of immortal beings stretched far beyond imaginable bounds.

      After eons, eternity seemed staid in the company of that undying lot. Suddenly Epiphany showered the universe clad in a meteor storm. ”Forever” creations were manufactured no more! A new age of experimentation, discovery ushered in utilizing finite substrates yielding life with limited lifespans; hence, the birth of mortal man… A daunting task, yet He toiled endlessly across galaxies to achieve creationism’s best idea of “mortal” perfection attempting to include aliquot measures of obedience, reverence, humility, courage, compassion and lastly, an avant-garde concept- free will! This notion unveiled itself as night’s blanket gave rise to sunrise over an almost forgotten, quaint but worthwhile planet. When He visited, scooped its moist, rich soil in hand… same ceased!

       The Creator first designed immortals, Angels and Nature. Over time, they added little excitement to the universal scheme. BORING. The former were obsequious, obedient, predictable beings constantly, eternally and unquestionably serving a lone one responsible for blowing then shaping them into varying forms of existence.

       They seemed content wispy, adaptable, borderless as if frankincense plumes until finally one roused and rebelled. He would eventually seduce mortals with offers of unbelievable enticements raising expectations higher witholding truth acceptance led to plummeting lower. Oh how that fallen immortal enjoyed Destiny using her as his tool… hammering with heinous insistence! “Interesting”, thought his Creator. “Let’s study what might come allowing this irreverent, nonconformist’s rebellious soul leeway.” The wayward angel annoyed much in the way of a fly buzzing without clout. Could it have been swatted, squished at any moment? A tolerant Master decidedly patient and prudent, endured vindictive insolence knowing from beginning to end, He could’ve been victorious in any bout. However, passively He’d state: “Let imperfect mortals stray. They’ll find reason to rebound and never again join the fray!” So a warped spirit was permitted continual life, which was good. He was atimely antecedent introduction for a Master mapping out an unprecedented plan.

       One utilizing aliquot measures of obedience, reverence, humility, courage, compassion, free will in birthing Adam- His first perfect, imperfect mortal man.

       He kept the universe engaged, abuzz, intermittently stirred here, rested there. Oh joyous bliss for non-blase entities! Altered were the lives of typical heavenly bodies formerly evoking not more than a yawn.

       Nature objected with her inarticulate voice of whispering, howling winds; wetting mists, downpours; chilling flakes, hail to no avail. She whined on incessantly pushing with every measure of her brawn.

       Her dissent further serviced His smile not swaying plans in the least assuredly promising her continuous vexation. Nature fought to comprehend notions of death, mortals and other concepts inscrutable to her. Every planet stormed with her lost in a blackhole of thought feeling chilled to the core this cast decision would lead to inevitable untold irritation.

       Meanwhile, perplexed angels wondered, “What have we done wrong to fill The Almighty with such discontent?” Conceptually, the answer was inconceivable that One with such power and presence pined for ripples in seas always calm, clouds in skies always blue, conflicts in Heaven always pleased… that He wanted to govern by choice not by default, bribes or intimidation. Master toiled with such intent a lesser perceptive being might have deduced there was something wrong with never ending aloneness His level of greatness brought. To them it seemed as if He’d grown weary of them; as if Alpha, Omega, Omni labels combined couldn’t satisfy something foundationally insatiable or so He thought. Decidedly conclusively he then created sentient mortal beings enabled with an innovative free will. Immortals couldn’t fathom how he pined over this decision! If they weren’t so sychophantic and respectful in and way beyond a lofty abode, there would have been rubblings and much objection, gossip and derision. “If I form lifeless matter endowing it with independent thought, it will surely disappoint me. This, I know; but, I’m bored with all this utopia surrounding Me!” This idea, crazed notion overtaking The Creator’s consciousness for longer than eternity, was

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