You know, I once tried my hand at Buddhism.  It happened while I was staying in a commune in Washington D.C.--Georgetown, actually.  My own efforts to set up a commune in Florida had just failed.  It wasn’t my fault, though.  The other three founding members weren’t able to cope with a measly swarm of blood sucking swamp mosquitoes.  So Danny and I headed north because we heard through the hitch-hiking hippy grapevine that there were mosquito free locations in Massachusetts where some enterprising Oklahoma commune founders might have better luck.

By happy coincidence, we found our way to this big old house in Georgetown that was filled to the gables with hippies.  Sure enough, it turned out to be an urban commune.  We never heard of any such thing as an urban commune.  But we could see right away how this could open a whole host of new possibilities for “commune central”--even in areas plagued with mosquito infestation.  We decided to  settle in and study their operation.  Turned out they were all Buddhists.  But we figured, “Hey, whatever works.”

At first, things went great.  They were happy to have a couple of eager students who could move furniture.  There were lots of stairs in the house and most of the Buddhists were women and the ones that weren’t women were on the smallish side.  So, in return for staying in the house free and learning to be Buddhists, Danny and I helped to get their furniture up to the top floors of their urban commune. In the evenings, Danny and I would sing cowboy songs, receive our Buddhist instruction and learn to eat ramen noodles and tofu.

The head Buddhist was Lenny and it was his house.  Lenny was in charge of our Buddhist instruction.  He started by telling us that we could all reach Nirvana if we could purify ourselves of all our passions.  He had a book full of sayings that were handed down through the ages by Buddhist sages.  He would only read us a couple at a time because he said we should technically figure one out before we moved on the the next.  To be honest, I don’t think I really unraveled any of them.  Here’s one.  “Your end, which is endless, is like a snowflake dissolving in the pure air.”  We kicked it around a lot and Lenny said I was nowhere near the answer and I needed to keep thinking about it.

And I did.  But Danny gave up.  He said his mind wasn’t wired so that he could think about snowflakes at the same time he was sweating couches and dressers up to the third floor.  Lenny also told us a long story which I don’t remember.  But the punch line was this:  “It’s as important for the cruel warlord to be the cruel warlord as it is for you to be the monk.”  Danny mumble something about how important it is for a mule to be a mule.  I think he was onto something.

Well, we got kicked out of the urban commune because Danny just wasn’t able to purify his passions.  We might have lasted longer, but most of Danny’s impure passions were directed toward Lenny’s girlfriend.  But really, I wasn’t that disappointed.  I wasn’t having any better luck in the passion department than Danny was.

We decided the urban commune route just wasn’t for us.  We preferred the kind of commune where Oklahoma passions were welcome.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I’ve got nothing but respect for Buddhism.  Over the years, I’ve come to know a number of genuine Buddhists and a kinder gentler bunch of folks you’ll never meet.  It’s just that I can’t put my heart into trying to rid myself of my passions.  I like ‘em.

Anyway, I did find some overlap between the western and the Buddhist ideals of manhood.  Kung Fu.  He was a Buddhist monk wasn’t he?  And maybe he had purified himself of his passions, but his martial arts training sure gave him the edge in a knock-down, drag-out, wild-west bar-room brawl.

Let me end with a saying I learned from John Wayne in that great academy award nominated western, Hondo.  “A man ought to do what he thinks is best.”

Oh by the way, millions of Buddhists celebrated Paranirvana last Sunday.  Traditionally, February 8 is the anniversary of the day Buddha died and received the final purification.  Here’s hoping all your Karma is good Karma. 

I’m Hink and I’ll see ya.

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