This is the story of Samson and Delilah. It is a story of passion, romance, jealousy, intrigue, narcissism and maybe even murder. Our story takes place in Brooklyn, New York. The date is 2017.
Samson was the strongest most well-built man on the block. He had muscles chiseled in stone. His muscles had muscles. He stood 6 feet 4 inches tall and did not have an ounce of fat on him. Samson worked out seven days a week, twice each day at the Philistine Gym on Gibeon Street. He worked out before he went to work each morning and after work for two hours each evening.
Samson was easily the most powerful man in the gym. Everybody admired Samson, but not quite as much as Samson admired himself. It was said that he could not pass a mirror without flexing his muscles and taking a few moments to pose in various bodybuilding stances.
Delilah lived in the same neighborhood as Samson. All of her neighbors agreed that she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. She was tall with long blond hair and a perfectly proportioned figure. Men could not help stopping in their tracks to stare when she walked by. She looked like an angel. She was so beautiful that many local artists would try to paint her from memory.
Delilah also went to the same gym as Samson. All the guys in the gym would flex their biceps or triceps an extra amount each time that Delilah came near them. All except Samson. He seldom even noticed Delilah. Delilah knew the effect that she had on men but she could care less. The only man that she was interested in was Samson. Perhaps it was the old story about 
wanting something more because you can’t have it. Delilah had only one other person she admired, herself. Much like Sampson, she could not pass by a mirror without staring at her reflection and thinking “how beautiful I am.”
Samson wanted to show the world that he was the strongest man who ever lived. To achieve this goal, he decided to attend the World Weightlifting Championship taking place in Brooklyn the year of our story. He could already dead lift 1000 pounds and he was determined he would lift 1200 pounds to shatter the then current world record of 1102.3 pounds.
Now Samson was a tad superstitious. Because he was lifting more each year and had never cut his hair, he believed that his strength grew proportionately along with the length of his hair. He had let his hair grow for over ten years and his braid was now down almost to his waist. He was certain that his strength was a result of his long hair.
Delilah grew more and more desperate in her attempts to get Samson to notice her. Finally, she hit on the idea to simply approach Samson and remark on his wonderful hair. So, one day while he was practicing his dead lifts, she sauntered by and casually remarked on how beautiful his hair was. She proceeded to compliment him on his marvelous muscle definition. She followed up these compliments with the suggestion that they go back to her place after working out and she would cook him a nice microwave dinner and brush his hair. This idea delighted Samson and after working out, they both went to Delilah’s house.
As you would guess, human nature being what it was, dinner turned into desert, desert turned into a night cap and a night cap woke up with breakfast. After that evening, Delilah and Samson were a twosome. Both loved each other with a passion only matched by their mutual admiration for themselves. It was a question of whom or which they loved more.
Well, as you may know, narcissists have a short attention span for anything but themselves. Samson was the first to break the implicit arrangement that seemed to characterize their relationship. Thus, one evening, Delilah knocked on Samson’s door and much to her surprise another woman in a skimpy negligee answered. Delilah was shocked but more than shocked she was furious. She swore revenge on Samson.
Weeks went by, Samson ignored Delilah at the gym and Delilah ignored Sampson. However, all this time Delilah was plotting her revenge. She well knew that the big weightlifting event was coming up and she also knew that Samson was superstitious about his hair and strength. This latter fact was the pillar of her idea for revenge.
Delilah waited until the night before the World Weightlifting championship. At around midnight, she used the key that Samson hid near his door to let herself into Samson’s apartment. Moving as stealthily as a cat, she entered Samson’s bedroom. Samson was a sound sleeper and he had no inclination of what awaited him. Delilah took the surgical scalpel that she had borrowed from a medical admirer and in one quick slash, she lopped off Samson’s braid. Samson was totally unaware and did not move a muscle. Delilah slipped back out the way she had come and placed Samson’s key back where he hid it.
The next morning Samson woke and went to the bathroom to get ready for the big event. Imagine his surprise and chagrin when we looked in the mirror and found that most of his hair was gone. Samson was devastated. He immediately knew that Delilah had taken her revenge. But it was now too late. There was no way that he could dead lift without his hair. His thoughts ran to the best way to get even with Delilah and whether or not her murder would constitute justifiable homicide.
Samson decided to go to the championship event anyway. Perhaps, even without his long hair, he would still have a chance. Sadly, he could not even dead lift 800 pounds. This was the minimum weight needed to qualify for the competitive championship rounds. The mighty Samson was only a shell of his old self. Everyone who knew him wondered what had happened to the once proud and haughty Samson. Was this God’s way of punishing the narcissistic among us?
History shows that Samson never broke another record and his name was gradually erased from the rolls of major body builders and weight lifters at the Philistine gym.
But, what of Delilah? Would you like to know how she got her just rewards? You see every moral or fable must have a denouement. The good guy triumphs over the bad guy. The two lovers marry and live happily ever after. The struggling athlete scores the final points to win the big game. The starving painter is eventually recognized for her creative genius. The hero slays the dragon and wins the fair maid.
Unfortunately, neither Delilah’s neighbors or the historians at the Philistine gym have any further records for Delilah. It is like she vanished into thin air immediately after the big weight lifting event. There are those who suspect that foul play may have played a role in her mysterious departure. Many others say she got fat, lost her looks, married a computer geek and is living in Poughkeepsie.
Time for Questions:
What was the source of Samson’s power? Was it really his hair? What makes anyone powerful? What role does belief have in our powers? Can you really accomplish anything without believing in yourself? What happens when you stop believing in yourself?
Life is just beginning.
“…it occurred to me that maybe Samson’s hair wasn’t the source of his strength; maybe it was the symbol of his strength. And maybe when Delilah cut off his hair, he didn’t lose his power because he lost his hair; he just woke up the next morning and looked in the mirror, and suddenly for the life of him couldn’t remember who he was.” — Sarah Thebarge
Once upon a time there was an…
I need to back up a bit as you must understand some mitigating factors. Most people of my generation today have no idea about why mutual sex was abolished. With hind sight, it may seem a little like throwing the baby out with the bath water. However, around the year 2090, war, terrorism and violence had become so common that everyone agreed something must be done about it. A group of the leading thinkers in the world formed a committee to see whether aggression could be stopped. They accepted the fact that most savage and brutal actions were committed by males of the species. Throughout history, men have fought wars over territory, money, power, fame and women. Men were responsible for most murders, robberies, rapes and crimes against women. The committee noted that the underlying drive behind male aggression was a preponderance of the hormone testosterone. A theory was proposed that if something could be done to reduce the amount of male testosterone, a corresponding drop in world violence would take place.
The solution was political rather than biological. The “Birth Act of 2107” decreed that any physical conjoining of men and women was illegal and immoral. The Supreme High Committee decided that since ancient methods of reproduction were now unreliable, the only way that women could have a baby was by artificial insemination. First, a prospective mother would need to file a permit for a license. Once having a license approved (the present birth rate was a critical factor in licensing decisions) a woman could then go to a birth clinic where she would be impregnated using a glass syringe. Male sperm was collected by harvesting willing males who were paid a fee for their production. Collected specimens were then sent to a national sperm bank to be cataloged and eventually matched with appropriate recipients.
Now as you know, life will always produce mutations. Genetic anomalies that defy the common strain of biology. And so, several years ago, a male baby was born with the genes to develop testosterone. His parents were not aware of this fact until he reached his pre-teens at which point his unique physical abilities were more than obvious. Unsure what the repercussions would be, his mother advised him not to tell anyone. His parents assumed that he could quite easily hide his sometimes-awkward condition from his peers and society at large. This strategy worked for many years. During this time, Adam tried to exercise his abilities as discreetly as possible.
As the little boy grew up, he became an even more devout believer in God. Everywhere he went, he saw the hand of God. In the clouds, in nature, in the weather, in the oceans, in good times and in bad times he believed that God was present. The little boy thought how hard God must have to work to try to keep life sustained. Each night he would pray to God that when he grew up, he would be able to help ease God’s work somewhat and do his share to help make the world a better place.
I am not a very sentimental person nor am I one to cling to the past. I decided I would move on with my life. I threw myself into my job and time went by. I had almost forgotten about Leandra when I saw the ad. It was from the Resurrection Android Company. It was the same company that I had purchased my android valet Sam from. Actually, Sam was much more than just a valet. Sam was a third-generation android with some independent powers of decision making. He could decide what to cook each day and he also decided what I should wear for work. He did cleaning, mending and many light repairs around the house. I had bought Sam shortly after Leandra and I were married. Leandra had mentioned that it would be nice to have some help with housekeeping and all. That way she would have more time to spend with me.
Androids of course are not human and they have no empathy or ability to show any emotions. Sam was logical and could be persuasive but he could not show love or compassion. In the ten years since I had purchased Sam, android technology had advanced considerably. Looking at the ad from the company, it appeared that they were now on a 15th generation android that had affective as well as cognitive abilities. The ad claimed that the new android could help replace a loved one both emotionally and physically. By integrating DNA characteristics using a technique called “Assisted human reproduction”, they could capture the exact characteristics of a loved one. All they would need would be some trace or remnant of the deceased or former loved one’s DNA.
That was when the idea occurred to me. I called the customer service line and asked to speak to a representative. I asked her whether it would be possible for me to create a new wife in the exact image of my former wife Leandra. They assured me it was. It would take about six months for the bio-engineering to integrate the mechanical aspects of the droid with the alleles and DNA strands that they could map from a sample of Leandra’s DNA. When the process was completed, I would have an exact physical, mental and emotional copy of Leandra. Even better, she could continue to be programmed and become an even better Leandra. The old Leandra was somewhat boring in bed. The new Leandra could become a wild and wanton partner if that is what I desired.
It did not take long to assemble the new Leandra. I put the lower torso, upper torso and head together in less time than it takes to make a milk shake. She was perfect. She looked just like my old Leandra. When I turned her on, she greeted me and asked, “What will my name be.” I replied “You are Leandra. You are the perfect wife. You will love and obey me always.”
I came home one day from work and Leandra did not greet me at the door. I thought maybe her battery had discharged or that Sam had forgotten to recharge her. I had left strict instructions for Sam to recharge Leandra every day. But, where was Sam? I did not hear him fixing dinner in the kitchen. I went into the kitchen but Sam was not there. Suddenly, I noticed a note on the table. I picked it up. It was from Leandra. She had written: “Gone with Sam, don’t love you anymore. Bye.”
All of my family and relatives attended both of these productions. We are a very close knit family and we wanted to show support for my sister. Six years ago, some of my family had wanted to go to the tattoo parlor with me when I had my first tat. I decided to go by myself. It was something that I felt that I had to do alone. The problem or conundrum I faced was what kind of a tattoo should I get and what part of my anatomy should I get it on? I remember that I had lots of advice on the matter. My father, mother, sister, grandmother, grandfather, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews and friends all had tons of ideas and suggestions related to both questions.
I received numerous suggestions on the best place to have a tattoo. Some suggested it be placed where I could easily cover it up when I did not want it be seen. Others suggested that it be someplace more visible. Some said to get it on my shoulder or thigh where I could show it off during the warmer summer months while wearing shorts or a tank top. Places like my lower arms would be visible more often but also more difficult to conceal. Another dilemma, where to get my tattoo placed?
With the looming appointment for my tattoo, I had even more pressure now to decide “What was I going to get? What would my first tattoo be? How do I find something truly unique?” I thought about it all week. Every TV show I watched, everything I read, more advice and suggestions from well-meaning advisors but nothing really excited me. I went on the Internet. I went to the library. I looked at tattoo magazines with numerous women and men who had tats. I must have looked at a thousand pictures of different tattoos but still nothing resonated. I did not want any of the tats that I had seen.
The point of this story is that if we had not been siting vigil at my sister’s deathbed, we would not have been able to prevent a premature death. This is merely one example of the value of an “advocate” when you must go to a hospital. I am sure everyone reading this blog has at least one example that highlights how important it is to have someone as an advocate when you are in the hospital.
An alarm might go off in an intensive care room but not be noticed for quite some time. I have personally observed many times when a patient needed to call someone for assistance but no one came. Unable to get out of bed, a patient may have to wait a long time before someone is finally able to help them. In many cases, an advocate in the room can help a patient with minor personal needs. If more severe needs exist, the advocate can be of assistance if finding someone to help and making sure that the patient needs are not overlooked or even forgotten.
Another function an advocate can provide is to stand up for the patient when needed. Most of the time when we are feeling sick or hurting, we are in no position to stand up for what we need or want. In such instances, a patient only wants the pain to go away. Hospitals and health care providers often have needs that transcend the needs of the patient. The patient that must play second fiddle to a variety of administrative and financial procedures. Another example might clarify this.
Being overly competitive might be a good formula in exercise programs where you attempt to outdo other participants, but this can be another recipe for disaster when it comes to Yoga. Each participant in Yoga needs to pay attention only to their own body; not to the other participants or even the instructor. If the instructor has his/her legs at a 180 degree angle to their torso and you can only make 30 degrees, you are best advised not try to imitate your instructor or other participants. A good instructor will repeatedly advise you to only go as far as you can with any Yoga posture. Pushing the envelope may lead to torn muscles or dislocated joints.
Start doing Yoga once or twice a week. You can get a Yoga mat, strap, blocks and some used Yoga DVD’s for less than $30 dollars. With some Yoga tapes and a DVD player, you will be able to do Yoga in the privacy of your home and as often as you want. I have found Rodney Yee, Patricia Walden and Susan Deason to be great instructors. Gaiam Yoga tapes can often be found in Goodwill or other thrift stores for a few dollars each. On frigid days, it is a real pleasure not to have to get dressed and go to a gym. It is also great to have an instructor on DVD that I do not have to keep paying weekly fees to.
