"COOL HAND LUCE"

by Richard C. Jaffeson

.

.

.

__________________________________________

                           F A M E   F O R U M 

                           N E W S L E T T E R

                   N A T I O N A L   W O M E N 'S
          B A S E B A L L   H A L L   O F   F A M E

                    National Syndicated Column
                       (contents are protected)
   Copyrights(c), NWB Hall of Fame, 1998-2003
TXU877085, TXU959430, TXU973266, TXU013972,
TXU986753, TXU949885, TXU004037, TXU022893,
TXU026161, TXU047111, TXU050230, TXU151901.
                          Issue Number 00214

__________________________________________
 
Volume VI, Number 08                   Publisher and Author
March 27, 2003                                Richard C. Jaffeson
Washington, DC                             HallFame@usa.com

                 http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame
__________________________________________

. 

COLUMN:  COOL HAND LUCE
                    by Richard C. Jaffeson 

"Love me!  Hate me!  Strike me with a bolt of lightening,
just give me a sign you're up there.  Do something!"

The challenge was directed to the heavens by a solitary
figure in the center of the field defiantly looking into
the heavy summer rain that came pouring straight down in
unrelenting translucent silvery sheets of water, and all
around creating many thousands of instantly dissipating
harmlessly exploding craters that repetitively splashed
and vanished into the thirsty earth.  The torrents were
so steady and thick that the sky itself was not visible,
and only the immediate vicinity could be seen, perhaps
a couple of hundred feet in any direction.  In the far
distance, the cascading roll of rumbling thunder could
be heard moving slowly closer, and signifying this was
not to be a mildly passing storm.

"Hey, Luce!  You damn fool, get your sweetcakes in here
outta the rain."  Dragline shouted to her teammate from
the protective cover of the dugout where everyone else
had quickly retreated when the thunderstorm began moments
before interrupting their afternoon practice.  They all
watched Luce in the middle of the infield beseeching the
heavens, and felt a mixture of amazement and admiration.
Dragline's rough voice boomed out again hanging low to
the ground to her best buddy, "Hey, Luce, ya can't stand
there forever!  Ain't ya worried?  Ain't ya scared?"

The other players by glancing and nodding silently agreed
with Dragline, and even the rookies instantly understood
her position in the team hierarchy revealed by expressions,
mannerisms, and stature.  This was Dragline's show, and
everyone dared not differ from her pronouncements.

At that instant, a flash of lightening entirely illuminated
the sky causing Luce to once again defiantly challenge the
heavens and look into the face of the driving rain storm.
Thoroughly soaked by this time in her state issue uniform,
she shouted, "OK, come on, hit me with one of those bolts!
Show me you're there!  Give me a sign!"

Although it was raining hard, there was a momentary calm,
a pervasive quietness in the middle of the storm, and for
several unexplained seconds there was no lightening to be
seen or thunder to be heard.  Luce waited and listened,
but she sensed nothing.  There were only background sounds
from the continuous splash and hiss of steadily falling
torrents of rain on the deserted field.

Luce kicked a large puddle of standing water near her feet,
as she turned to join her companions.  In a soft inaudible
whisper she observed to herself, "It's just me, that's all,
standing here in the rain.  That's all there ever is..."

Luce's friends Dragline, who played first base and looked
like Boog Powell, and Casey, at one time claimed to have
been some type of preacher, but now served as a respectable
utility infielder, were waiting in the dugout with several
towels in hand.  This August afternoon was seasonably warm,
and they knew Luce would dry fast.

"Whata ya doing a damn fool thing like that for, anyhow?"
Dragline demanded in a scolding but playful tone, while
simultaneously tossing a few towels at Luce. "Here catch!"
she exclaimed taking an intimidating windup, but letting
the towels gently fly towards Luce while she continued her
banter, "You're likely to get yourself drown in that flood,
or struck by a flash of lightening and burned to a crisp.
Just look at you!  Ain't you a mess!  Drenched to the fur!
If this wasn't summer, you'd most likely catch pneumonia,
or maybe something worse.  What's the matter with you?
Standing in the rain like that..."

"Yeah, well, sometimes, I just gotta say my peace, and
see what happens." there was a slight pause, "Nothing!"
Luce replied as she buried her face deep into one of the
large cotton towels.

"Luce, you better not take such chances in a thunderstorm,
a wild one like this, and then tempt fate with the Lord's
own lightening," Dragline continued, "you'll liable to get
a lot more than you bargained for in this life and after."

"Drag, you know it, and that's the point," Luce countered
as she unstrapped her cleats, took off her shoes, and loosen
her uniform belt.  Any moisture still retained in the team's
light summer issue would evaporate quickly once the storm
passed and a breeze commenced, but leather and pads had to
be removed.  She attended to her attire in the dugout.

"Casey, you were a preacher once, right?" Luce began a new
line of questioning, while working the buttons and zippers
on her uniform and adjusting her hair.

"I was, sort of, but ain't no more." was the immediate and
remorseful response as she remembered her past experiences
in that occupation, "that was a long time ago." She sighed,
"I ain't no more."

"Yeah, but you know the Word, don't ya?  Do you at least
remember the important parts?" Luce impatiently inquired
and continued to dry herself.

"The Word?  You mean from the Holy Book?" Casey raised an
eyebrow. "Well, Luce, I wasn't really that kinda preacher,
'cause they wouldn't let me be.  I was more of a counselor.
They called us advisors," she paused to recall the exact
phrase. "We were referred to as, 'scientific' advisors for
counsel and comfort in the hereafter."

Casey momentarily smiled while reflecting upon her previous
responsibilities, and informed her friends, "We believed
in 'revivalism' and 'creationism.'  And, I thought we were
doing good for folks, but I lost the calling." Her outlook
saddened again, "My heart and spirit weren't in it..."

She then revealed in a solemn tone a more realistic reason,
"We all got caught.  The whole lot of us were tried, fined,
and locked up in this here jail."

Luce ignored the story behind Casey's incarceration, for the
moment, because everyone had similar misfortunes and excuses,
but instead addressed her primary concern.

"Well, a counselor, minister, preacher, or whatever you were
called, that's good enough for me, Casey," Luce interjected,
"'cause what I wanta know about is that 'hereafter' part."

"Is that why you were just standing out there in the rain?"
Casey inquired although she already knew the answer. "Trying
to figure it out?  Asking the Lord for a sign?  I could have
told you the Lord don't work that way, unless it's your time."

"That's what I'm asking you about, ain't it?!" Luce snapped,
"How do you know it's your time, and then what happens?"

"The end part, Casey!" Luce again demanded, "What happens
afterwards, that's what I wanta know?!  Why do we go through
all this with folks pushing and shoving, lying and cheating,
arguing and fighting, and destroying and killing?  What for?
And, what happens at the end?  What's this all about?"

"Why you'd have to be the next Messiah to answer that one,"
Casey more calmly explained regaining her composure and a
previously acquired image of self-assurance, "or spend all
your numbered days studying the Book, 'cause that's what it
really says, --how to live and die.  The word Bible itself
means 'life.'  It's the 'book of life,' for the folks that
believe, and every religion seems to have its version."

"As for the hereafter, the truth is no one really knows.
Sure, most religions have some idea of heaven, but no one
person ever came back to tell us what it's like."  Casey
stopped for a second and looked at the steadily falling rain,
and out of context offered a more familiar aside, "Hmmm,
still pouring real hard, maybe it'll last another hour or so."

She then returned more seriously to the conversation with
her companions and the subject at hand.  "Let me tell you
what I know, since you asked, and it sure looks like we
aren't going anywhere for a while."

"I thought I had the answers, at one point," Casey began,
"in revivalism and creationism, but that wasn't the way.
Let me tell you what occurred, how it happened to me."

"You see, nearly every religion thinks it has the answers,
especially about the hereafter part, and that's all right.
In fact, to a certain extent I believe in every religion,
because they all attempt to pretty much do the same things,
to explain life and how to live properly.  The ceremonies
and celebrations were designed to reinforce those beliefs
to help people remember.  To that extent, they are all good,
by clarifying the here and now, and attempting to provide
folks with answers.  People need something to believe in,
especially about important things beyond our reality."

Casey paused for a moment, and there was absolute silence,
except in the background, there could be heard the steady
splash and hiss of the afternoon rain.  She continued.

"At least we can try to explain what is happening to us
here and now, and write down what occurred to preserve a
record of the past, but the hereafter is another matter,
because no one person has ever seen that and reported
it back to living and breathing human beings here on earth."

"A long time ago, the Egyptians, the early ones that built
the pyramids, thought they had the answers.  They embalmed
everyone, both rich and poor were wrapped up and preserved
before burial.  Those that could afford it had an elaborate
ceremony.  Kings were placed in those mighty temples; they
thought for eternity.  The Egyptians believed folks had dual
souls on earth and below called 'ka' and 'ba.'  When someone
died and was prepared properly, the souls were reunited in
an afterlife with their worldly belongings buried with them."
Casey further speculated before proceeding, "I wonder what
happened to those fellas' spirits when their magnificent
tombs and the other graves were uncovered and disturbed?"

"The ancient Chinese also believed in similar dual souls,"
Casey continued, "but a person's spirit continues through
reincarnation as part of the next life on earth.  Current
Hindus and Buddhists follow the same concept, life is part
of a circle, and after death it's renewed in another form."

"The first Greeks had a place all mapped for the hereafter,
well-described, too, in songs, tales, and books by Homer
and others.  Hades was the god of their underworld, and
the River Styx brought departed souls down to his kingdom.
Cerberus, a three-headed dog, guarded the entrance at the
end of the river.  For those that were exceptionally good
during their life, they got to stay at Elysian Fields in
the underworld, which was sort of like heaven.  But, once
anyone crossed the River Styx, no person returned."

She thought more about the mythical tales, "Sure, Orpheus
once attempted to rescue his beautiful wife Eurydice from
the underworld, but he failed.  In one of Heracles' adventures,
he had to battle Cerberus.  But, Orpheus and Heracles were
not mere mortals, and those were stories."

"As for today, a lot depends upon the religion which you
were born into by fate or chance." Casey further considered,
"Most people accept that belief without question, because
that's what they were told from childhood.  Some believe
in reincarnation, and they're probably Hindu, Buddhist, or
traditional Chinese.  There 2-1/2 billion of those folks.
As Christians, we have an idea of heaven with resurrection
and the promise of life after death for those that believe
and behave themselves, and that's another 2 billion people.
The Islamic religion offers a heaven for those that remain
obedient and follow God's will and laws, and that's nearly
2 billion more souls.  And, those four faiths with their
branches and sects add up to most of the world."

"Billions and billions, Casey," Luce observed, "that's a
lot of folks believing in something."

"Sure it is Luce," Casey commented, "more than 90% of the
world is affiliated in some manner with one of those faiths,
of course, some believe more strongly than others when they
practice the Word.  It's what they 'believe.'  Understand
the term 'believe,' and how it's defined, which is difficult
to prove sometimes with facts, especially about the hereafter.
No one person has ever come back with the measurements.
All we really know is once someone is dead, that's final,
there's no returning in that previous form as long as there
has been life on this earth."

Luce was quiet for a moment, thinking and searching for
another question.  She recalled what Casey previously said,
"Before you mentioned something about 'revivalism' and
'creationism.'  What was that all about, and where does
that fit into the scheme of things?"

"Well, that's what got me in trouble, and why I'm here."
Casey sadly explained.  "It was a scam, a hoax, a con;
one of the oldest on earth, --claiming life after death,
but it was a modern version.  And, we got caught at it.
Of course, while we were doing it, no one could tell us
we were wrong.  We believed in it, this was our daily work,
it became internalized; and we followed what we were told,
probably like those Egyptians and Greeks.  I had to find
out for myself, and nobody could convince me otherwise."

"How'd ya do that?" Luce inquired.

"I was coming to that part," Casey continued, "but let
me tell you about what we did."

Casey moved closer to her friends to enable her remarks
to be confidential, without the entire dugout listening
to this part of her explanation.

"You see we were selling a service, and claimed that we
could revive, repair, and restore life after death using
highly 'scientific' techniques.  Once someone was deceased,
we would prepare their body and store the remains in a
large test-tube shaped device filled with liquid nitrogen
with the expectation of returning that individual to life
at some unspecified future date.  People paid $120,000
or more for the privilege."

"At first, I thought I was actually saving lives and doing
something good and noble for humanity.  But, then I started
thinking about it, theologically and scientifically, while
I was watching and monitoring those test-tubes."

"Religion represented my first concern, because most taught
either reincarnation or resurrection as part of the hereafter,
as I just mentioned.  If this test-tube process worked and
someone frozen was actually brought back to life, I thought,
what if they were already reincarnated or had gone to heaven
in some manner?  How does that spirit or soul return to the
original body and from where?  I could never answer that..."

"What really convinced me were the problems associated
with the freezing techniques.  The initial preparation and
storage temperatures would not sustain revival, because once
at such extremes of -340F, internally cells crystalize and
rupture, organs tear, and flesh cracks and breaks.  Traces
of remaining moisture would destroy the body's circulatory
system.  It almost occurred to me that even those ancient
Egyptians had a better chance of maintaining human corpses
with mummification.  And, physical preservation alone won't
bring a body back to life."

Casey concluded, "What we did was not only morally wrong,
but also technically incorrect.  Nobody could tell me that
while I was doing it, because I had to find out for myself.
Luce, no one comes back from the dead, there's only the
here and now, as far as we know."

"Sure, you can ask questions and speculate about answers,
while religions advise and console.  The rest is beyond our
reality and control.  You can see the deluge from the skies,
you can hear all the splash and hiss in the background, but
you'll still be standing there by yourself in the rain."

.

__________________________________________

  NATIONAL WOMEN'S BASEBALL HALL OF FAME
             Richard C. Jaffeson, Executive Director
     PO Box 15282, Chevy Chase, Maryland  20825

                           HallFame@USA.com
                  http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame

         "National Women's Baseball Hall of Fame"
         is a registered trade name with the State
         of Maryland.  MD672265, October 19, 1998.

         Programs, articles, and contents presented
         herein are protected under provisions of the
         U.S. Copyright Office, Library of Congress.
         Fame Forum registrations are listed below:

TXU877085, TXU959430, TXU973266, TXU013972,
TXU986753, TXU949885, TXU004037, TXU022893,
 TXU026161, TXU047111, TXU050230, TXU151901.

       Copyrights(c), NWB Hall of Fame, 1998-2003
___________________________________________