All Suffering SOON TO END!

This is the cover of a pamphlet a Jehovah's Witness* shoved under my door yesterday. Really? ALL suffering soon to end? And how exactly are you portraying this visually? Apparently it’s by picturing a buppie couple who have had their teeth bleached wearing their weekend-casual clothes from Gap and Banana Republic (I don’t know where those hideous sky blue socks are from though) surrounded by a huge number of pumpkins and apples. Ignoring the moose who would probably charge and trample them to death, all that’s really pictured here is another family on an apple and pumpkin picking trip who got rooked into picking ninety-five pounds of useless produce wondering how many delicious things they could make (The answer? Four pies, two of each, and then everyone’s sick of pie. You never get around to making applesauce because it’s too damn hard so wind up throwing away a hundred dollars worth of rotting gourds and apples.) There also appears to be horseback riding in paradise, so I guess all the suffering only ends for humans and animals are still required to haul our fat asses around.

If I were to design this cover, it would feature my husband and I sitting on the beach with our children. The kids are playing independently with a group of friends without fighting, the baby is napping in a Pack N Play (breaking my sleep rules, but in paradise it doesn’t matter) and we are stretched out on lounge chairs. Beside me is table piled high with books which I will actually be able to read because of my well-behaved paradise children. There is also an ice bucket with a bottle of Cakebread Chardonnay for me and some random beer for Hubby. A separate table groans under the weight of platters of artisanal cheese, buffalo wings and hot dogs. As well as cherry pie (the only kind allowed in paradise), boxes of donuts and jars of peanut butter. In my nirvana, one eats what one wants without gaining weight, ala, Defending Your Life.

So JW’s, if you need my PR services I am available to help you lure in the mid-thirties, suburban mom set. Because, seriously, I don’t think you’re going to hook ‘em with images of any October Sunday they already live. Personally, I don’t think of finding a new savior when I look at this picture, instead I imagine myself shoving all those apples in the van screaming, “We just came for the hayride!”

* I really do applaud the JW’s for their earnest attempts to save my blackened, agnostic soul and persistence in the face of constant rejection and occasional mockery. You really need to be committed to something if you’re wiling to spend your day having doors slammed in your face.