Cub Scout Pack One met every month.   We had blue uniforms with short pants and a gold neckerchief; nice I guess except in San Francisco's cold fog.  Having a little fun from time to time was ok but being good militaristic scouts was paramount.   And in pursuit of good character we were exposed to religion.  I had heard rumors about gods and stuff but it was not discussed in my family so I was ignorant of it and neutral about it.   About once a month  we cubs were herded to this church and next month over to that church; never to a synagogue or mosque because they had not been invented yet evidently.  Mostly we sat numbly through the rituals and stuff with minds adrift and bodies wiggling.

But occasionally I listened and was startled to notice that the big chief or this church was entirely contradicting the big chief of the others.  Very curious!  Because I was innocent and had not yet learned not to try and get meaningful information from adults, I asked our scout leaders and my parents about it.  I learned.  Their answers were different but all the same basically that I wouldn't understand and don't ask such foolish questions.

So there I was, one skinny boy against the High Pondoos of the Church and the Big Scout Chiefs and the Parents.  There was so much fog!  But I listened even more carefully to sermons, songs and all the praying.  I learned about heaven and the multiple incompatible ways to get in.  And about hell and  all the fun ways to get in.

At night falling asleep I considered it all and my lonely conclusion was that church business smelled funny, like bad fish.  Later when the fog lifted I realized it was all lies.