Mirror Image Edutainment, Alan John Mayer
EDITOR’S CAVEAT: This piece has not been edited. It’s author offers no apologies for missing or misplaced commas, excessive use of the words have, had, that, and excessive use of exclamation marks.
but now I do. Growing up, I was privileged to be able to share my mother’s hall closet with her and her family. The top two closet shelves were filled with hat boxes. On the lower shelf were a few hats, among them my father’s camel hat. From the rung hung his camel hair coat, and his lambskin hunting jacket, (no, he was not a hunter).
I had a black Gerry down ski jacket which I stored in the front closet which, though it was the finest quality, it was black, and I never liked it because my skis were blue, and my boots were orange. Black did not fit into my color scheme, but it was the last one, and Mummy got it at cost plus a discount, so it lay under the Christmas tree is a beautifully wrapped gift box. My mother raised me from a very young age to color coordinate my wardrobe. Why should I have stopped in Junior High, when image means everything?
There must have been some coats belonging to my sister in that closet, though I know she shared my mother’s many coats and jackets. Among them, a long black beaver coat with brown fur trim, a brown fox jacket, a light pigskin coat, a black leather coat, a black leather jacket, a Persian lamb coat which later became a vest, and later, for her twenty-fifth wedding anniversary present, Christina had George buy her a knee length ermine mink coat that then crept into the closet. I have been a PETA advocate for decades, but never before had I thought of my mother’s closet as a tomb for dead animals.
Now I do.
God said, “thou shalt not kill.” He did not command, “Thou shalt not murder,” which would have referred to man alone, but he said thou shalt not kill, which means no bullfights, no dogfights, no chickenfights, no slaughterhouses, no overgrown hormone induced animals killed to satisfy our taste buds.
I myself eat fish, chicken, and turkey, so I too add to the killing culture, but I work to minimalize my footprint, by investigating my choices, and not eat anything that has DNA that is similar to mine, i.e.,
no lambs … no rams … no bulls.
I wish I did not give in to my taste buds, but I do. It is senseless killing I am concerned about, and those who make a living off of raising animals for slaughter have it in their sack of rocks to carry, not I.
I must worry about lightening the load of my own sack, and a prayer might just do that.
I admitted my life had become unmanageable, there was One God, as I understand Him to be, and I was powerless over others.
I came to believe this power greater than myself, this power I call God, could restore me to sanity.
I make a decision to turn my power, my will, my desires over to God, and listen to what He has to say.
I go through the daily search,
the lists of admitting,
the removing of defects of character and shortcomings,
to allow us to breathe in His Divine breath, the continued search, and sharing of these principles —
in all of our affairs.
I leave them all up to God.
I give thanks.
And so it is.