Thursday, April 8, 2010

The Chicken Man

I’ve been following the case of the spiritual guru that killed a couple of his students in the sweat lodge incident in Sedona, Az. For those of you who haven’t been there, Sedona is a beautiful area, nestled in the the red rock formations between Phoenix and Flagstaff. There is a large community of new ager’s that live and work there. Unfortunately, there are some very unscrupulous people selling snake oil there too.

The sweat lodge story reminded me of my first trip to Sedona. I had actually never been there until I was 28, when I went on a trip with my family.

Now, let me preface this story with, I can get pretty new agey myself and I am not against spiritual seeking myself. By the time I got to Sedona, I had been a priestess for several years and I am very good at feeling energy, especially earth energies. So, I was very excited to be going to this new age mecca and feel the vortex energies I had heard so much about.

We arrived in Sedona and went to the vortex closest to our hotel. There was a bunch of spiritual tourists there and everybody was talking about this vortex energy. Unfortunately, I wasn’t feeling jack shit. I tried really hard but I got nothing. As I’m standing there trying my best to feel even a whisper of energy, a man in a chicken hat walks by with three little old ladies trailing behind him. Chicken man was wearing a ridiculous cowboy hat covered in multicolored feathers. I almost pissed myself laughing! And there were 3 little biddies (“the flock”) who were following him around hanging on to every freakin’ word.

Chicken man was “lecturing” his flock about the power of the vortexes and how they will cure everything from a hangnail to hemorrhoids. According to chickenman, the vortexes had the power to fuel your car, unclog your drain and clean your cat’s litter box. With every word he uttered, I was having a harder and harder time not just losing it. Keep in mind this whole time I’m not feeling anything. After a couple of minutes of this, I had to leave and go back to the car. As I was leaving, my mom asked my why I was leaving and all I could do was point and laugh.

So here this guy is, selling the flock a complete line of crap, and I all I can think is how much those ladies probably paid him for the service.

How much do dyed feathers cost anyway? I think I’ve got an old cowboy hat in the closet somewhere.=)