At a Detective's school at the University of Georgia, I met a personable cop from Atlanta named Jake. Jake was of the Jewish persuasion. Kinda. He said his family were all serious about the faith but he was a slacker. Said he wasn't even welcome at synagog.
Over some excellent Jack Daniels black one night, we were discussing religion, usually a bad practice--especially when drinking liquid stupid. I'd noticed that he had a pendant hanging around his neck that depicted a Star of David. I asked him why, if he wasn't that serious about his religion.
"Not taking any chances I might be wrong," Jake said. Then he flipped over the medal and on the other side was a Christian Cross. He smiled again. "Like I said, I'm not taking any chances."
I laughed.
"And," he continued with a smile, "it seems to work. So far I haven't been bitten by even one vampire."
I recalled that he favored bacon with his breakfast. "No problem," he said. "A priest can pass his hand over tap water and make it holy water. I pass mine over bacon and it becomes a nice Gefilte fish."
I learned early on to be forgiving of religions folks who'd "backslid", as they say back home. One of my favorite uncles was a self-ordained minister. Trouble was, every few years he'd gather up a pretty member of the choir, grab the building fund, and abscond to Mexico. He'd stay there until the fund was exhausted, then come home.
Incredibly, the church always took him back. He had a stock redemption speech he made to them that worked every time. "The Devil is alway working," he'd say. "And if he can corrupt a man of God like myself, what chance do you have without me?"
Whatever works.
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