A Moment of Peace Before Wading Back Into the Shit:
On a two-lane country road, some-fuckin'-where in small town Tennessee this morning, on his way back from the Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival, the Rude Pundit encountered this man walking alone. After driving past him once, we turned around to find out what the hell was going on. Why? Because that's what you do. Because you are human. And when an old man with patchwork robes, long white beard, and a homemade crucifix on a staff crosses your path twenty miles out of any place you've ever heard, you stop and find out what's going on.
The Rude Pundit jumped out of the car and walked up to him. He said his name was Pilgrim George and that he walked the world, that he'd been through 41 countries, and that he was on his nonstop walking pilgrimage because God had told him to do it. He talks to all who wish, he owns almost nothing, he lives off the kindness of strangers.
After asking to take his picture, the Rude Pundit handed Pilgrim George some money. George asked if we had water, and we handed him two, a cold one from the ice chest and another one for later. He thanked us, blessed us, and went on his way.
In an era when all the fake Christians palm off their violence, their bigotry, and their hateful speech as being a case of God-mind reading, whether it's in shootings at clinics or Glenn Beck trying to convince us that small violence is an indicator of the hellish endtimes to come, and no matter where you stand on religion and Gods, it's encouraging to know that a man can put on tire tread bottomed sandals and wander the earth in order to ask us to be better people.
(Still feeling the hippie vibe and deep, bone-rattling exhaustion from the fest. Tomorrow, fuck peace and love.)