The Tale of Brother Bubba Baba
Many years ago a friend of mine brought me a piece of ginger he acquired during a a long stay in India. The ginger was given to him by his guru who commanded him to "give it to the one who would know what to do with it and will treat it with the respect it deserves." I planted this piece of ginger in my green house and nine months later I harvested it. When I trimmed this ginger I noticed it had a bluish color. The blue was much more intense than the blue ring I had often seen in the common Chinese white ginger. I cut the ginger into smaller pieces for replanting. Each cut revealed a different shade of blue and occasionally almost violet.
I continued to plant this ginger year after year. I would always select the most blue pieces for replanting. As the years passed I finally accumulated enough blue ginger to plant in my field, so now I have a nice crop of blue ginger. I called my friend who had originally given me the first piece of ginger six years ago. I told my friend I wanted to name the blue ginger for the guru who had gifted it to him. He told me the gurus name was Bubba and suggested I might call him for his permission. He also told me that Bubba was quite a character. It seems Bubba lives in a cave and his only possessions are an old guitar, a '56 Cadillac convertible given him by a patron and of course, a cell phone. My friend told me Bubba could blow towards an unsuspecting crowd and a hundred people would simultaneously and gently fall to the ground! So I called Bubba for his consent to have his name on my blue ginger. "Hello", said the thickly accented voice on the other end. I said, "may I please speak to Brother Bubba?" A laugh followed by, "jeez Biker Dude, the name is Baba not Bubba." We both laughed at my mistake and then he inquired about my wife Elvira and each of our children by name. I asked him how he knew so much about me and he told me he kept tabs on me through the blue ginger I was growing. Baba said he knew I would call when the time was right.
As we conversed Brother Baba emphatically stated that the great outdoors, hard work and raw food was good for my body and mind but that laughter and rock n' roll was much needed medicine for my soul. He reflected on God, girls and love. He spoke of peace that never was and wars that always would be and I felt his pain in my own heart. We laughed and cried and laughed some more. Then he said very seriously, "the blue ginger is our bond and is sacred so if you sell it you must give the bulk of your profits to a worthy cause, that is why I sent it to you so many years ago." We talked terms and I asked him if he wanted a cut and he replied no, but he did insist that I put his picture in every box of blue ginger. In parting he said he kinda liked the name Bubba and he asked me to hang up the phone, sit still and close my eyes. I said, "bye Bubba" and did as instructed. After a moment I felt his warm embrace and he said with a chuckle, "I love you brother."