Dreamcatcher, Dreamcatcher, catch me a dream

This is my new dreamcatcher. It measures about 15 inches, from the top of the ring to the bottom wispy feathers. As dreamcatchers go, it's quite fetching.

If you know me or if you've read a handful of blogs here at Roundseventeen, you probably don't think of me as a dreamcatcher guy.

But some ambitious marketing director for one of the native American tribes charity does.

You see I just received an inch thick package from of the tribes (I will leave them unnamed) as part of their fundraising efforts. The bubble wrapped envelope also included tribe-stamped notepads, a complimentary set of Siegel-printed return address labels and an assortment of lifeless holiday themed greeting cards.

Of course, if these people knew me at all -- and clearly they don't -- they would know that I am very particular about my greeting card selection. And eschew anything bland or generic.

In fact, when it comes to greeting cards I like the ethnocentric cards and could spend all day going through the extremely religious greeting cards.

They would also know that I have no use for a Taiwanese made factory-stamped dreamcatcher. I have no idea what they're supposed to do, but I suspect from the name it's something in the spiritual world.

And as regular readers know I'm about as spiritual as your cat's latest hairball.

I have no need for dreamcatchers.
No desire to burn sage.
No understanding of karma.
And no tolerance for anyone who spouts anything about astrology or Mercury being in retrograde. None.
Read a book on astronomy and we'll talk.

I have received these type of care packages in the past. Mostly from Prophet Gospel Evangelists, Joel Osteen, Robert Tilton and Peter Poppoff. And my natural inclination is to make fun of these thieves and their thieving organizations.

But I don't look at Native Americans in the same way. At all. And would never deride them. In fact, I was all set to pen a letter to the tribe urging them to stop spending inordinate money on these packets of trinkets. The one I received must have cost in excess of 10 bucks.

Then I backed away from the keyboard, thinking who am I to tell these nice folks how to conduct their business.

Instead, I reached for my checkbook and sent them a generous donation.

Genius!