Did you ever see that movie “The Devil’s Advocate”?
You know that movie with Al Pacino?
Well I have.
And in it good-old-uncle-Al delivers a beautiful line.
A line that resonates with me to my core.
He says, about God, that he is an “ABSENTEE LAND LORD!”
And I get it.
You might say with a toothy grin,
“Oh, that is a clever quip about the lord all mighty”
Hehe
And I will agree with you.
But I… KNOW… what he means.
God our father.
GOD! My father.
My father was similar.
Not an absentee landlord, but an absentee employer.
You see, I did poorly and received no reward,
do well and I see the bonus.
And I harnessed this attribute of our relationship as of late.
But truthfully how would he know if I was doing well or badly?
How would he know what amount to write on the check but hear-say?
You see, I receive his cash but I don’t receive him as a figure of stability or caring.
Now, I am no slum dog.
I am no physically scarred battered progeny.
I am the child left behind in the shadowy corner of a large house to play with the cat.
Or the dog.
Or the clotting dust.
My male role model was an older homie swigging a bottle.
My ethics were born in the blood and oil stained driveways of house parties as I had to
“Knuckle up or shut up!”
My pat on the back was from a friend getting away with the same crime I did.
My words of wisdom were born from the mouth of the great Greek philosopher Televisionious.
And wouldn’t you be jealous
as all my family members were famous,
like my cousin John McClane and nephew Frodo Baggins.
Sure a man called “pops” is sometimes around for family dinners,
but he hugs some wine and discusses life with his BlackBerry
as he writes his so-called profound poem of the moment.
I see him.
But does he see me?
Or does he just think I am a costly shadow?