Let me start by wishing a big old wet sloppy blessing of love upon you all!
Your friend Reverend Buddy is filled with the Spirit, and it has lightened my heart, and yea verily placed a large spring into my step, and a silly smile of joy upon my face.
Friends, I have won no lottery, no jackpot, no daily double; nay, though I have often cast my lot among the gamblers, gamesters, and horse-players, children of God though they may be; no, though I have often played among them, I have no winnings to speak of;
And, Friends, I have no bonanza of stock-market riches, though I have chased penny-stock tips, and speculated on get-rich-quick schemes, spinning Wall Street's Wheel of Fortune, tossing hard-earned dollars into the Big Bank Combine, watching it get shredded into nothing; no, for that effort, I have gotten little but hard-earned, bruising wisdom.
I have traveled through forests full of enchanted herbs; I have lost myself in their foggy fumes. I have drunk magic potions, and have had revealed to me many fantastic visions and nightmarish phantasms; but the next day has always dawned, often in the form of an accompanying headache, and sometimes protracted physical illness; but no matter, each day has dawned, revealing me to be back in the place from which I launched my ill-fated journey of psychedelic-alcoholic-narcotic-hallucinogenic indulgence on the previous night. Sometimes, children, I would find myself in a strange place, in the company of strangers, wearing strange costumes, speaking in a dead language, performing an abominable ritual, ecstatically gyrating in platform shoes in Studio 54....yes, children, such places really did exist.
I have lain with the Bathshebas, Salomes, and Magdalenes, ministering to the fallen angels of the evening, sometimes repeatedly; bringing the cleansing Word to the place of the Easy Action; all of this children of course, before I met the Mrs. Reverend Lee, the estimable Flossirosa Rita Magdalena Fernandez-McThomas Lee,who began the journey by my side which eventually led me out of the Desert, and into the Light.
The Lord appeared to me then, actually, became audible to me , in the form of the voice of Mr. John Lee Hooker, singing in my ear one night in a dirty alley, he sang , Don't look back, with minor and major seventh chords; and during the instrumental break, which was dreamy, very jazzy, kind of free-form, the voice of the Lord came, kind of like a voice-over, and the Lord told me:
Reverend Buddy, you are a fine person. You've screwed up just about every possible way you could, yet here you are, hearing the words of John Lee Hooker, looking forward, opening your mind to my voice.
Reverend Buddy, thou art my child and I love thee. Thy journey is just now beginning. I say unto thee now, with thine own hands, thou shalt build me a virtual church. Thou shalt name this church the Church of the High Beams, and thou shalt bring joy to thy flock.
Speak to thy flock of my love, and its myriad manifestations. Remind them of life's good things, for they will need such reminders often.
When the noise of chaos and turmoil vexes their spirit, remind them of Dick Dale, and Al Green, and Ray Charles;
When the turmoil of politics and power crushes their hearts, remind them of Joe Franklin, Yogi Berra, Soupy Sales, and Uncle Floyd;
When their souls are flagging from their everyday cares and worries, drop your virtual pants, and let them laugh at your ridiculous boxer shorts with the hearts on them;
always remind them, Reverend Buddy, because it's so easy to forget, remind them that I love them, and that I am not mass opium, or a leash to use on a mob; remind them, Reverend Buddy, that life is just a series of waves. Some waves are killers, some are treasures; some we should let pass, some we should swim for with all we got; but no matter, through every and each ride, I am with them.
I am love.
And I love you.
Build me my church, Reverend Buddy, Be the rock-and-roller on whom my church may stand.
Right about then, Mrs. Reverend Lee splashed me with a pail of mop-water, and I arose from my vision.
I followed Mrs. Reverend Lee into the kitchen of the Mess Hall. From down the road, the silver statue of Saint Joseph smiled, and waved his detached hand at me, and I knew that all would be well.
Since then, friends, I have been on a mission, a mission of joy. I smile like a fool, with a Hopalong Cassidy-spring in my step, because I am full of the Spirit, and, children, it lights my way, and lightens my heart so it is like a breeze-borne spore, splashing above the magical fearsome waves crashing at the end of the world.
And friends, that is what I wish for you today.
May each of you find your lives illuminated by a love, a passion, a purpose so beautiful, that it puts a goofy bounce in your stride, and a silly smile on your face, and an anti-gravity device on your heart;
may your days be animated by joy, even when the work is tedious; may your yoke turn to wings, and may you dance blithely over the sword's blade.
May your next cheeseburger taste friggin awesome, and may the next song on the radio be your favorite.
And may you always keep surfing, goofily smiling,
Into the Light.
Your Friend,
Reverend Buddy Lee
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