Here in this little town, two miles across, with its eight churches, we find a trendy, high-end gift shop which is about to shift to a new location a few blocks up the street from its old one. To celebrate the occasion, the owners will hold a seminar on how to get in touch with “your animal spirit guide.”
A hundred years ago most people who dabbled in this sort of malarkey proudly claimed a “Red Indian” spirit guide. Sic transit Chief Running Bear. I guess that has become Politically Incorrect. So now, when you want supernatural advice, you get a hamster or whatever. You might even be lucky enough, we are told, to discover that your Animal Spirit Guide is one of your own beloved pets that has passed on.
The perpetrators of this business are not poor Haitian immigrants but well-to-do, college-educated, white women. They seem like very nice women. I have patronized their store for years, not knowing that they also offered tarot readings on the side. I am very sorry to learn that they wish to be guided by pagan fortune-telling cards and the spirits of animals.
Eight churches, by cracky.
What would be going on here if there were no churches?