Urban Legends

I love a good ghost story, but it annoys me if someone really believes it. I really dislike urban legends, mostly because so many people believe them just because someone has written them down. Just because someone wrote it doesn't make it true. Sometimes I wonder if an Egyptian chuckled as he carved a hieroglyphic, knowing full well some jackass 2,000 years later was going to believe that the Pharaoh may have been a hermaphrodite just because he said so.

I love the people who send me forwards, a lot of cute stories come and so often its a love note that means, "thinking of you" from some really busy people. I don't have any friends who have nothing better to do than just forward many dozens of posts each day. With each story that I get I still feel the need to check snopes or urban legend.com just to see the status of the story.

How come, even when the story even started out true, people couldn't leave it alone? What is this perverse need that people have of taking a story that is true on its own merit and embellish it to make it a lie? Take the story of Dr. Howard Kelly. A very nice, wealthy, doctor who lived in the late 1800s to mid 1900s, billing rich clients a goodly amount so he could write off the charges of those less fortunate. A wonderful story in and of itself.

Why couldn't someone leave well enough alone? They had to tweak the story, make him an impoverished youth working his way through medical school who repays the kindness of a young woman years later when she comes to him for medical treatment of a rare disease. Don't you think his real story is more important and valid for today? A legitimate and practical way for a doctor to practice now, than to wait for impoverished people to aspire and find a way to attend medical school?

This is not, by any means, a slam on the dear friend who sent me the email. You have to know by now that after I appreciate the story, I have to look it up and see if its true. I always have to know, to the best of my ability to research it or find out, what the truth of the matter is. For those who don't believe in God, that may seem a contradiction of my belief in the divine. I can only assure you, it isn't.

However, isn't that what life is about, in part? Ascertaining for our ownselves what "is", what "matters", and what we are measuring that all by? Atleast, that's what I think for me.

UPDATE
I do love many of my uncle's and friends' forwarded jokes and riddles, etc. I was reading one out loud to hubby, trying to convince him of its merits. "Why is "Bra" singular and "panties" plural?" He responds, "Because bra is short for brazierre. " I give him the wife look. "That's not the point. Why don't you call it braz for short?" He gave me the puzzled husband look, "How would I know, no one asks me what to call undergarments." In frustration that he's not getting it I try to reason with him, "Think about it honey, have you ever said, 'I am going to put on my panty' instead of 'I am going to put on my panties'?" Completely deadpan he replied, "I can honestly say I try not to ever say either of those things."

I don't know if I was laughing harder at the fact that he had such a serious face when he said it or the fact that he said he "tries" not to say either of those things! Ah, my Yogi Berra, and no, none of you can have him. Then he called me the weirdo!