Words in Bible but not my book & vice versa

(664 words)

The word sex doesn’t appear even once among the 783,137 others in the King James version of the Bible.

By contrast, I use the word sex 72 times out of 67,989 words that compose “The Last Baby Boomer.”

Something to think about for your Easter book purchases.

Just because there’s no sex in the Bible doesn’t mean Bible people weren’t getting some in the Biblical sense.

Of course, sex in the Bible was described by the archaic verb “begat.”

I couldn’t find a reliable word count, but one site says begat is used 97 times in the book of Genesis alone. Example from Genesis 11:13: “And Arphaxad lived after he begat Salah four hundred and three years and begat sons and daughters.”

That’s a mighty skimpy obit for a guy who lived to be 403.

Heck, I remember reading the obit of an old town drunk last week and it mentioned all his social clubs, his moronic kids and where they lived and stated he liked to golf and watch Pirate baseball.

A pity he died during spring training.

I wonder if Arphaxad liked baseball and if during his 403 years he ever saw the Bucs win the World Series.

He may have.

Bob Nutting didn’t own the team back then.

Oddly, the Bible mentions love 210 times, but sin gets 578 nods.

It seems out of proportion for the Bible, but just about right for how things were for me on a really good weekend back in Athens, Ohio.

Those weekends were fun! Really fun!! Really, really fun!!!

My book uses 274 exclamation points, a number substantial enough to embarrass the author. In my defense, the book is populated by enthusiastic characters who say things like, “Buster ran to the hall, his heart pounding in his chest. ‘Dudash! Dudash! Get in here! Now!’”

I’m not proud of all the exclamation points, but I am pleased one of my characters is a woman who’s always summoned to run and has a name pronounced “DOO-Dash.”

Interesting fact: Typewriter keyboards did not include an exclamation point until 1970, which makes perfect sense because it was one year after the Rolling Stones released “Let it Bleed.”

Sources vary on how many exclamation points are in the Bible, but I found this comment from an inveterate bullshitter who said, “I am a speed reader and it only takes me about 10 minutes to read through the Bible, so I read through a Cambridge KJV and found three exclamation marks in the Old Testament, and one in the New.

“It is possible that I missed one, but I read very carefully, so I don’t think so.”

If that guy’s reading this blog, it took him 0.0000002 seconds to get this far.

I don’t think you could flip all 2,274 pages of the Bible in 10 minutes.

He must have skimmed over Revelations 21:8 that says:

“But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and ALL LIARS, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur.”

I have the same interest in learning speed reading as I do in learning speed sex, but I covet a lie as artful as his so I intend to steal his Bible speed reading lie, thus compounding the odds my afterlife will involve a snazzy cabana on the shores of lake of fire.

None of the following words that appear in my book are mentioned even once in the Bible: boink (7), discombobulate (1), bourbon (12), fart (7), pickle (2), kite (1), rocket (6) and tickle (2).

My book mentions Jesus 63 times; the Bible, 983. But the disparity levels when it’s noted I mention Jeff Probst once and the Bible does not.

So there you go, just a bunch of random numbers from sources that may or may not be credible. 

You can believe it or not.

Same goes for the Bible.

Related …

Let’s make the Bible fun to read!!!

When idiots pray

My Biblical confusions

1,001 words on word counts

Pull tab donations & the ‘Last Baby Boomer’

How to review ‘Last Baby Boomer’

"Sound" fathering at 22 mph

(693 words)

It’s a 2.3 mile drive between my house and my 13-year-old daughter’s middle school. I can drive it in 5 minutes and 34 seconds, which means I can start playing the 1969 studio version of the Rolling Stones “Let It Bleed” and we can hear the whole thing before I drop her off.

That allows me time to explain that the song was a lyrical counterpoint to the Beatles preceding release, “Let It Be” and that the bands were really friends who saw commercial benefits to playing off a perceived good/bad rivalry.

But the drive rarely takes 5:34. I usually tailor it to the song I want Josie to hear on the days I drive her to school. Tomorrow’s the last day.

She hasn’t caught on, but I without fail dawdle on the drive so we can hear in its entirety the one song I have cued up just for her.

So in the last few weeks the drive has taken 5:59 (“Mother Blues,” Ray Wylie Hubbard, 2012), 6:06 (“Point Blank,” Bruce Springsteen, 1980), and 6:31 (“Calling Elvis,” Dire Straits, 1991).

My unrealized goal was to stretch the time out so luxuriously that it’d take us 11 minutes and 22 seconds to drive 2.3 miles so she can hear without interruption Bob Dylan’s 1965 epic “Desolation Row” from start to finish.

The overt goal, obviously, is to expose her to what I consider good songs by essential bands. So our drive soundtracks have included Van Morrison, Kinks, Tom Petty, Chuck Berry, Johnny Cash, Elton John, Joe Ely, The Who — all the usual suspects.

It was a few months ago she asked me if I wouldn’t mind driving her on days when for study reasons she wanted to arrive earlier than the bus. It was no imposition for me to leave the office and head back home for purposes of education.

Heck, for her it’d be no imposition for me to leave the office and take her to Poughkeepsie for purposes of yogurt.

What surprised me was just how much soulful parenting you can do in those jiffy little drives. Because we talk about school, teachers, relationships, ambitions, dealing with disappointment and what happened on that day in history (I check the paper before picking her up). 

Sometimes the songs have a message. I’ll play George Harrison’s “All Those Years Ago” and tell her about the life and death of John Lennon.

We talked about dreams — hers and Martin Luther King Jr.’s — on April 4 when I played U2’s “Pride (In The Name of Love).”

Other times it’s just about great rock ’n’ roll.

If this makes it sound like I’m never around or am distant when I am, I swear that’s not the case. She and I have a great relationship and enjoy many Daddy/daughter adventures at ballparks and in the woods.

But unless the power goes out, we are increasingly separated by electronic filters. She’s on her iPhone or me on my Mac. Or the TV’s on.

But there in that old car I have her full attention and she’s now conditioned to open up. She’s knows I’m a good listener in ways that have nothing to do with what’s coming out the speakers.

Maybe it all seems so precious because I know she’ll soon obey biological imperatives and want little to do with me. She won’t want to hear my insights, share her feelings or maybe not even be seen with me.

When I think of it that way, it’s a wonder I ever slow the vehicle down enough for her to make a safe exit. I should just keep driving her around listening to great tunes until the year 2022.

I guess the lesson here is opportunities to teach and love the people you care about can emerge when you least expect them. And for me it’s been tooling along the road at about 22 mph while listening to a 4/4 beat.

So as Father’s Day approaches notable civic organizations can keep their prestigious “Father of the Year” awards.

I’m content being the father of the five or six minute commute.

Related . . .

Marching on Gettysburg with daughter, 12

Taking pregnant women to the ol’ ball game

Daughter, 4, thinks dad works too much

Daughter, 7, says Bible says I have to love our stupid dog

Life altering music for the needy and the stupid