making it official

My BFF is finally getting divorced.
It's been a long time coming.

Yesterday evening, she began the conversation by text.

her: Just said goodbye to Ernie for the last time. Divorce should be final on the 16th.
me: Was he in town?
her: Yup, flying out of Atlanta to Dubai. He wanted to have dinner with me and the kids.
me: Wow. I had thought he was here last month to sign the papers. Right?
her: He had been in Hinesville since New Years.
me: Ok. I see.
her: Yup. Now he's going back there to work (he better) and be with Elise.
me: How are you doing? Want to talk?
her: He did go out to Texas to see if that would work out (it didn't).
me: That is funny.
her: Are you busy?
me: Nope. Hard as that may be to believe.

And we talked, voice to voice, for almost an hour.
Ernie had resisted signing the papers this past summer, when he was stateside. He was so sure she would remain part of his harem that he was going to wait her out.
Now, his harem has dwindled from a wife and two mistresses to only one woman: his South African mistress with whom he is living in the UAR.
The folks over there think he and Elise are already married, because that is the lie he has perpetrated to them.
Over there, they have strict rules about married men having affairs and living with mistresses. He would lose his job, at best, and she would have been deported on the spot.
As it turns out, he's already lost his job.
He smart-mouthed to a general, about who knows what.
Craziness.

Why did he sign the divorce papers?
My BFF told him she had found someone new.
His grown son told his dad that he needed to let Sam go.
His nearly grown daughter told her dad the same thing.

Then he went out to Texas to visit his longtime mistress, Jill, the one he's had since 2009... and closed that chapter in his life.
She had gained seventy-five pounds in the past three years.
That's her assessment, not his.
Once he saw her there in the doorway, he was done.
Pretty shallow fellow.

So, sign the divorce papers he did.
Then to visit his aging dad for a couple of weeks.
He's told my BFF that he wants to come back to the States, live in the house in Hiram with his mistress and his dad.
Well, that will depend on whether her Apartheid-supporting self can gain admittance into the USA.
And whether she even wants to move here and share space with his dad.

Meanwhile, I'll be sending love and support to my BFF.
Please hurry, February 16th.
Her peace of mind is overdue.

talking football to a baseball fan, part 2

Dear Bill,

Did you know this? "To dogs, all movies are film noir." I don't think that's true at all, but that's what Grimm says. I hold that not all black & white films are "film noir", whereas the colors used apparently influence the film genre to that dog. What's Tucker's opinion?

Seriously, I would think Tucker would have a much better grasp on such delineations. Grimm can be so literal-minded!

with my love!

***** ***** *****
The Channel Islands NMS is another one off California's coast. Very special!

talking football to a baseball fan, part 1

Dear Willie,

hey, hey! The 49th Super Bowl is just around the corner! The 49th! That means I was 7 years old for the first one. I don't remember anything about it. I remember "Broadway Joe" Namath in the 4th one, though!

I'm rooting for the Seahawks this year. Last year, I supported the Mariners. I look at it this way - if your name has anything to do with the ocean, then I'll cheer for you!

Plus, I like their uniforms better. :-)

with my love!

***** ***** *****

This notecard promotes the Flower Banks NMS. I so want to go there for the cownose ray migration!

my money's on the Seahawks!

Hey, Dood!

The 49th Super Bowl is almost here! That means it's older than you are. You've never known a world in which the Super Bowl did not exist.

Mind-boggling, isn't it? You know what boggles my mind? Many of my students were just toddlers when the World Trade Towers were attacked in September 2001. To them, that is ancient history, as it has permanently changed the world around them. No mor going early to meet arriving flights at the airport, so you can greet family and friends as they step off the plane. Now, you wait in the cell phone lot for them to call you from the baggage room.

I miss meeting them at the gate. And when I travel, I miss having people in the hall, waiting with a welcoming hug. The young people of today have no idea what that's like.

Ah, well. I'm rooting for the Seahawks this year, for the same reason I supported the Mariners last year. I like their ocean-themed name and I like their uniforms! :-)

with much love!

pa pa ha nou mo kua kea

Dearest Christina,

I do hear tell that school is kicking your "hiney". LOL! Good - that means you're putting effort into it!

Still, I do miss our times together. We'll have to steal away some afternoon and go to Olive Garden and maybe steal away some other time for an after-the-kids-are-in-bed movie.

I've
unearthed
these
two
comic
strips
that
were
torn
out
of
the
paper
for
you.

As soon as I read them, I laughed out loud and knew you would be the perfect person to appreciate them!

I've been seeing some good movies! If you get a chance, go to the new Johnny Depp one, "Mortdecai". What a total hoot! My favorite line is: "I'm standing on a loo, holding a dead man's Goya." Art thieves can be so funny!

Okay, I'm at my Office Hours and a student just came in. Gotta go!

with much love always!

ps. Love to your menfolk! And boyfolk! :-)

***** ***** *****

Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument is located in Hawaii. It is one of 14 national marine sanctuaries on Earth.

humpback whales and headlights

Dearest Sam,

Hey, hey! I'm sitting in the Learning Commons, waiting for any of my students to come by for help. It's been thirty minutes and so far... just tumbleweeds!

This notecard is one of a package of 14 that celebrate the 14 national marine sanctuaries in the world. I picked them up at the Gray's Reef Ocean Film Festival two weeks ago. I think I would like to go whale-watching in Hawaii. I wonder when the whales are at this sanctuary?

The comic reminded me of the story you texted about Morgan's windshield wipers and the flustered mechanic. That was very funny!

Well, I better go and act like I'm a professor.
Later!

with much love always!

ps.

stellwagen that wright whale of mine!

Dearest Melaness,

Just letting you know I'm thinking about you! I do hope the treatments are proceeding without too many side effects along the way.

Hang in there, g'friend!

Have that man of yours to give you an extra hug - or two! - for me.

with much love always!

***** ***** *****

Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary is in Massachusetts Bay, not so very far from Pennsylvania.
Its headquarters are located in Scituate.
Seriously.
(smile)

Great White Sharks and the Gulf of the Farallones

Dear Paul and Cathy,

Hey, hey! I'm taking a few minutes to myself right now, to avoid writing a test. Well, not avoid, but definitely postpone. I need to appreciably change it up, as I have two students who are repeating my class this semester. no unfair advantages allowed!

I've been collecting items from the newspaper, as you can see. I just can't help it! I'll read an article or do a Jumble or laugh at a comic and someone near and dear will pop into my thoughts! That's when I tear the item out of the paper, then recycle the rest.

I was going to cancel my paper subscription, but I've realized that I like that it brings thoughts of family and friends to me. So, I've continued it for another 12 weeks. $3 a week for my happiness = good for me!

The Gray's Reef Ocean Film festival was two weeks ago. I served as usher for the entire two-day event! Loved it! I've been attending since fall of 2007 and look forward to it each year. This card is from a package of notecards which feature the 14 National Marine Sanctuaries on this blue planet.

I selected this one especially for y'all. Woohoo!

with my love!

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Before heading to Las Vegas in 2010, we drove from San Francisco to Yosemite National Park.
Paul wanted to share this area, in particular, with me and Cathy. He has very much enjoyed hiking these mountains.
This place is more incredible in person than this photo can possibly show.

Breads of the world, unite!!!
Stud muffin!
Smart cookie!
Sweetie pie!
All baked for the breadwinner!
This reminded me not only of the fun we had with a Sunday crossword puzzle,
but also of the baking show we discovered on tv on night.
Good times!

This, of course, brought to mind our evening with Philo Cafe, while they were visiting me this past December.
Good discussion about the meaning of time and money to all there!
Definitely a good time!

(As for the special meaning behind the selection of this notecard for my dear friends in San Francisco, check out the website for Gulf of the Farallones NMS.)

cordell bank and dungeness crabs

Dear Sue,

I do hope you are doing well. I know you are very busy with your new practice.

I hope you and Francine were able to get everything done when you were here in town. I had honestly thought I would hear from you, but I didn't want to intrude without being asked. I believed then, and still do, that you would contact me if I could be of help.

I do regret that Cyndi had me leave the carpet in your dad's truck. Christina's husband had met me at the house to help move the ruined mattress from the back porch to the truck, then we were going to the dump with it. Instead, I was told to leave that task for you to handle and I was told to give the house key to Hugh. I did as I was told, much as I hated to do so. (I still have the text messages, should there be any doubt of what I say.)

My condolences on the death of your dad. I remember the good times we all shared at Kevin Barry's, once upon a time.

with much love always

***** ***** *****

Cordell Bank National Marine Sanctuary is a little north of San Francisco.

little things, like punctuation marks

Dear Tony,

Hey! I'm hanging in there... how about you? This week, I'll be writing the first test for my students to take on Monday. Wish them luck!
Actually, they won't ned luck if they've been doing the homework like they're supposed to. We'll see!

I tell you, it's a good sign when I'm using exclamation points. It means I stillhave hope that better days are ahead. That's very good!

Another of my new friends is dying. She is at Hospice House after having a brain aneurysm a week or so ago. I plan to visit her tomorrow. I had tried to do so yesterday, but she had the "Patient is sleeping" sign on the door, so I left a note instead. I have no idea what to expect. A mutual friend sent an email to all in the philosophy discussion group and that's how I found out on Saturday.

I plan to try to visit you at the end of February, on a Saturday. I've already told Sam that I am going to visit her on the Thursday and Friday, then come up to see you... "unless I meet the love of my life between now and then".

So far, that hasn't happened.
:-) Well, a girl can always dream!

Seriously, I do plan to travel then, unless we have snow or you have snow. I don't think I'm any good at driving on that stuff.

with my love,

things i would buy if i win the lottery

Winning the lottery is not very likely, but a girl can - and should - dream.
Here we go!
We'll just start with these two items and add on later...

I don't even have a place for this fabulous,fantastical dragon stair rail in my one-story dwelling... but I want it.

Very much.

Maybe I'll just run it from the front door to the end of the sidewalk...

That'll give the neighbors and the kids on the schoolbus something to gawk at while they're at the stop sign.

Groot!!!

As a swing!!!

No, he didn't show this specific capability in the movie, but he definitely has a soft spot in his psyche for children.
Remember the scene where he grew a flower in his hand and gave it to the little girl?
Well, I do.
I was wishing that little girl was me!

the restaurant at the end of the universe

Here's to me!
The ex was toasting me with a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster in hand.
Sadly, it was just a beer, not the real thing.
This was last night, a day after his endoscopy.
That had been a rough day.
This morning, we caught up a bit with each others lives.
For almost two hours we talked.
Not texted.
We had been doing that for several days, trying to set up a time when we could actually sit down and talk.
A lot has been happening this year and we needed to hear each others voices.
When he had sent me the photo, I had texted back with the Douglas Adams' reference.
Then I had said "ten or two" for us to talk.
He had replied with the morning time.
This morning.
So, we talked.
Catching up on job issues.
Catching up on health issues.
Catching up.
Talking about his younger daughter's problems and his older daughter's pregnancy.
Talking about memories of his mom.
Talking.
I'm really glad he and I can have these good conversations.

RIP, No Kidding!

Today is the celebration of the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., a minister spurred into action by the woes of one in his congregation.
Usually on the evening of this memorial day, I would be attending The White Elephant Swap. That event served as the unofficial first get-together every year for No Kidding!.
Not tonight.
Not anymore.
No Kidding! is no more, perhaps a reflection of the popularity of invites on social media and the groupings of like-minded folks on meetup.
I, myself (and several others from the group), am now actively involved with several groups on that site and have been since the lull in the NK! events this past year. I had chalked that up to new jobs claiming too much time from the schedules of our leaders.
Probably true.
It isn't as if we in the core were not still meeting for dinners and movies and all manner of events, whether those events were officially of NK! origin or not.
Anyway, last week I had sent a query about plans for this year.
The subject line of the response, on January 13th, read "Closing down".
Pretty bleak.
The message it held was not much brighter.

Well, after some discussion, Lauri and I have some sad news:
Savannah No Kidding! is no more. The international No Kidding! organization is officially defunct as of this past December and we've also decided to disband the group. I'll be deleting the email account in about a week or so.
We will miss you all. It's been a great ride, but we feel we're going out on a high note.

Grand pooh-bah,
Lauri

Web mistress,
Christa

So, no "White Elephant Swap" tonight.
I had informed the bfe of such last Wednesday, as I was driving him home from his new evening class. He suggested we dine and watch "Carol Burnett" instead.
Of late, those diners would have been a Tuesday night event for us.
Change is good.

all jumbled up!

More puns derived from the newspaper puzzles... yeah!
(Groan if you must!)

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The wide receiver's wedding day featured a good reception.

The tennis player was double-faulting way too much, so he went to a service center.

He was such a good archer because he understood arrow-dynamics.

The Empire was able to get another Death Star built quickly, thanks to the work force.

He put up so many Christmas lights, the neighbors were in a holi-daze.

He proposed a submarine to reach the bottom of the ocean, but his boss couldn't fathom it.

Yogi and Boo-Boo were taking karate lessons and Yogi was impressed with his sidekick.

The schools' new math teacher was a good addition.

She needed to fix her car and chose a body shop that was wreck-o-mended.

Luckily her seat belt was fastened when her car buckled.

She told her husband if he didn't buckle up, she was going to belt him.

She planned on finishing her lollipop lickety-split.

Since their last trip to the Czech Republic, there'd been much Prague-ress.

He was hoping to get a royal flush, but the cards didn't quite suit his needs.

Happy astronauts come down to Earth.

The Australian marsupial' new treehouse was high koala-ty.

The most popular items at the German deli were the wurst meats.

When she reached the rim of the Grand Canyon, she was on edge.

The canine wanted to be stationed between Canada and the U.S. because he was a border collie.

Having chocolate on her mind gave her sweet dreams.

The dogs that didn't get along were cross-breeds.

They loved their adopted per furrever.

The new quarterback didn't get excited about much. The coach worried that he was too passive.

He practiced the high jump over and over.

When the coach took him out of the game, the starting pitcher was relieved.

After a long day, the telemarketer was ready to call it quits.

The outfielders started their own band and played catchy songs.

The cold weather turned the food-eating contest into a "Chilly" cookoff.

The witch had twin baby girls, but which was which?

He lost weight because he didn't take it lightly.

The fashion shoot featured a model dressed as a hitchhiker with a-posable thumb.

Mary and Joseph, when in Bethlehem, were in a no inn situation.

A begging dog might give you paws for a moment.

An angry kitty requires escape claws.

Storm chasers who are too intent on getting close to a twister have "funnel" vision.

thanks, Mama

Over the last two weeks, I have seen three documentaries.

After attending my great-niece's birthday party, I went to Tim Burton's latest movie, "Big Eyes". The film followed the life of Margaret Keane, the woman who painted the sad waifs with the enormous eyes in the 1950's and 1960's. She had to struggle to regain ownership of her works, after her husband, a genius at commercialization, usurped her identity and her career. At the end of the movie, I thought my life owed her kudos for helping to pave the way for modern women's rights.

Then, last week, I finally was able to watch "The Imitation Game" with the bfe. Joan Clarke was a brilliant mathematician and puzzle solver of the 1940's and was part of the team that conquered the Enigma Machine. I thought my life owed her kudos for changing the way intelligent men regarded intelligent women.

Tonight, "Mission Blue" was the featured film at the first day of the Grays Reef Ocean Film Festival this year. The work of marine botanist Sylvia Earle, from the 1950's to today, was explored. By the end of the film, I thought my life owed her kudos for encouraging the inclusion of girls and women in scientific studies in the 1970's, when I was in high school.

Then I realized the truth.
I was not familiar with any of these women.
Not even the marine scientist.
But I'm sure my mother was quite familiar with two of them, Keane and Earle. In 1970, both women were in the headlines and all over newscasts. Keane successfully sued her ex-husband to regain title to her paintings. Earle successfully joined an underwater living experiment, not only as the first female, but also as the head aquanaut of a later five-female group.
Both women were close to my mother in age.
I was not familiar with them, but she was.
Perhaps they influenced her decision to grant me wings, as well as roots.
Mama is the one who deserves kudos for not only giving me life, but for helping me to have a life.
Thanks, Mama.

there's a new sheriff in town, see

This morning, I laid down the law to my middle brother. I had just picked him up at the EconoLodge, where I had graciously set him up for the past two cold evenings.
He seems to think I'm his personal bank.
I explained to him, in no uncertain terms, that the only way I was able to set him up was by increasing the amount of debt on that piece of plastic. The only reason I had chosen to do so was the extreme cold snap in the weather.
I explained to him, in no uncertain terms, that I would not be responding to any more drunk calls from him. I would also not be transporting his drunk self anywhere except to a rehab center.
I explained to him, in no uncertain terms, that there would be no more cash from me to him. If he had the cash to get beer, then he certainly did not need to ask for funds from me.
I told him about our nephew Damon's addiction to heroin, an addiction which had led to at least two overdoses last year.
I told him about our former sister-in-law getting busted for methamphetamine production and having the good fortune to have a son and stepbrother who convinced the judge to have her enrolled in Bridges of Hope for six months, instead of a prison term.
I told him that when our brother Tony is eventually released from prison, I want him to live and work somewhere else, rather than him running the risk of again falling in with his drug-addicted "friends".
I told Ronnie he might want to consider rehabilitation this year.

I had already sent fair warning to those who would abuse kickstarter backers. That would-be actor and definite scam artist has been reported to the good folks at kickstarter.com.

Tomorrow, my dear little sister arrives from San Diego.
She is going to be greeted by rain-soaked, fouled, carpet in the back of her dad's truck.
That carpet was placed there almost two weeks ago, during the traumatic cleaning of his house. The dump had been full, so the ditching of the carpet had to wait for two days.
On the appointed day, I had shown up to handle the task, only to be told to let it wait for her trip to Savannah. I still have the text messages from her wife, directing me to leave that mess right there.
Since that day, we have had several days of steady rainfall.
Sad.
But I'm glad I still have the text messages on my phone, both those from her wife as well as my replies. The old man across the street can vouch for my actions.
At least it won't be a case of who said what.
Thank God for text messaging.

rat a tat tat!

Dear Tony,

I just realized I had written you about a lot of worrisome things. My apologies. I know you can't do anything to change how folks think... but God can. And you can pray to God on my behalf.

Trust me, your prayers are always most welcomed. I have been doing better than ever since I asked God to intervene and stop Cyndi's harassment of me. But it has been a struggle to get her ugly words out of my head. With God's help, I'll get better every day.

i thank You, God!

On an up note, the Gray's Reef Ocean Film Festival begins tomorrow! I have so enjoyed going to this for the past seven years! I'll be volunteering at the Lucas Theatre, to help with it this year, on both Friday and Saturday. I am truly so excited to be doing that! I'm hoping Lecy and Shane (her fiance) will bring your grandkids to the film. I invited them on facebook, to be sure they know about it.

I think Hope may still be in Mexico. I need to email her and see when she is expecting to return to Savannah. I have gifts for all the children, whenever their schedules will let me see them. Perhaps I should invite them all to dinner sometime soon? Yeah, that sounds like a good idea! I'll see what I can get scheduled and let you know how it goes.

Wishing you blue skies and a happy kitty!

with my love!

sometimes you wanna go

... where everybody knows your name! C'mon, folks, you know the words!

My ex sent me this photo earlier tonight.
As he told me a while back, this is how he keeps up with everybody. He'll take a selfie and send it to some family member or friend, along with the salutation, "Cheers to you!"
Pretty good method of communication, right?
If the person contacted is able to respond, you can text back and forth for a bit, reaffirming each other's existence. If the other person is busy, at least you left your calling card, so to speak.
No one gets tied into a long conversation, because the bar is too busy to allow easy phone chatting and texting gets tedious after a bit.
Yet, you've both made contact.
I still prefer live conversations, but this has its merits.
I think I'll give it a go, too.

the librarian begins a new chapter

Yes, it's true!
My friend, Kristin the librarian, had her little boy this morning!
Baby Landon and his mom are doing quite well and enjoying each others' arms. He's about a month early, but I guess he simply couldn't wait any longer to see his folks!
The baby shower for Kristin and her man, Chaster, was held just over a week ago. Kristin's little sister, who already has a child, stayed here in town to help out her big sister. Nice, right?
I know having the sister is going to be a big help. As you may or may not know, newborns are up every two hours or so for feeding, holding, and pooping, for that first month.
Yeah, you read that right: every two hours.
My first niece and her husband have had numerous experiences with babies in the past two years. As foster parents, they have brought newborns home to tend on more than one occasion. They've also had lots of experiences with older babies and with children all the way up to 11 years old.
Perhaps I'll make sure the librarian knows to use them as living reference manuals!
(smile!)

farewell to an Irishman

Here he is, eating one of his favorite meals at one of his favorite places, MacElwee's Seafood House on Tybee.
Notice that smile on his face? That's because he was sitting beside his favorite daughter, who was visiting from San Diego.
No matter that she was lecturing him about his smoking.
She was there, at his side.
Oh, did I say favorite daughter? Actually, she is his only daughter and the only child that he and his beloved wife, Maggie, ever had.
What was the occasion?
Well, it was August 9th of 2013.
His 69th birthday was on the way.
Her 45th birthday was coming up, too.

Now he's gone. A stroke on New Year's Day laid him low, leading to his death yesterday morning.
No more trips to Virginia to visit his brother and family.
No more high school reunions to attend.
No more hunting and fishing.

He'll be missed at the American Legion meetings in Thunderbolt. Post 36 is the one we shared. At one time, he and Maggie spent a lot of time there. At one time, he served as the Post's Chaplain.
He hasn't spent as much time there in the past few years, so he and I rarely saw each other.
At the news of his death, though, several people have spoken up with words of remembrance of him and words of solace for his daughter.
That is a good thing.
Memories are all that are left now.

how do you measure, measure a life?

To borrow a song from "Rent", how do you measure a life of a car?
Well, mileage is certainly a way.
Rides to and from school for classes, office hours, meetings, theatre, music, and art show receptions.
Trips out of town for film premieres, trips to the beach.
Journeys to conclaves and aquariums and Kevin Costner.
Mileage marking the existence of my freedom to go to movies and museums and musicals! To partake of brunches and lunches and dinners with family and friends! To attend birthday parties and baby showers and Bollywood specials!
And let's not forget the improv, whether here or in Daytona Beach.
So many good times had these past twelve months!
As you may recall, I had some extensive work done on the car about this time last year.
At that time, my car had 142,000 miles on it.
Since then, I've added another 18,600 miles to that sum.
It's been a good ride!
I look forward to new adventures this year!

(un)making Christmas

Time to take down the greeting cards
and put them all away
Until the coming
of the next Christmas Day.
Read again the verses,
read again the notes,
store them away,
but remember what they wrote.
The photo cards
move to the fridge.
(Maybe shift that one,
just a smidge!)

The Christmas Santa
that belonged to my Mom
goes back in the wrap
to protect him from harm.
Dragons once more
shall prance and preen
under the branches
of the cherry tree.

Frank's Energizer Bunny
will take its annual rest,
nestled with the Misfits, Elves,
and Rudolph's friends (the best!).
Mama's Christmas photo
(note the orb near her head)
gets swapped back to its box
for the Mother's Day picture instead.

Even this doorhanger -
made for my Granny White -
will find itself stored away
until some December night.
Then all the memories
will be pulled from their boxes
to find new places to shine
(while I wear Christmas socks)!

What about the Christmas tree
which was put up so late?
That, my dear,
will have to wait.
The sunroom is now
closed until spring
when warmer weather's
sweet birds will sing!



My thanks to "Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas", one of my all-time favorites, and especially to Danny Elfman's "Making Christmas" song, for the inspiration for this post.

red letter days!

Well, here's a resolution I can love!
Have a book of Red Letter Days to go along with my new blog!
Looks like next week has a special event on EVERY DAY!!!
Sah-weet!
I'll keep you posted, either here or there...

the grand delusion

Sadly, my little sister is married to a bigot.
'Tis true.
Her wife is bigoted against Southerners in general, Georgians in particular, and Savannahians specifically.
She is especially bigoted toward heterosexual Southerners.
Like me.
You see, in her narrow-minded opinion, all Southerners are backwards, stupid, racist, and biased towards homosexuals.
It's very sad, considering my little sister is Southern and still has ties to Savannah.

Her wife is from California. Except for a period of time when she was actively heterosexual and engaged to a guy and living in Italy, she has been where she is now.
So, not always a lesbian, not always in San Diego.
According to her, everyone in California is accepting of homosexuals and same-sex marriage.
Of course, she must be overlooking all the Proposition 8 hoopla in that state. Flipflopping between legalizing same-sex marriages and banning them, the latest vote, as of only 2013, is again in favor of marriages between any persons, regardless of gender.
In fact, when she and my little sister wed in 2005, they had to go to Canada for the official ceremony. Sure, back home again in San Diego, they were entitled to domestic partner rights, thanks to 2003's AB 205 in that state.
But they were not recognized as wife and wife.
Not even in California.
Even now, not all people in San Diego, much less the entire state of California, embrace the rights of LGBT people to marry. I had a conversation with my visiting friends from San Francisco concerning homosexuals and they explained, in no uncertain terms, that Islam regards homosexuality as a sin and homosexuals as an aberration. Period.
And they live in San Francisco, generally regarded by the world as a mecca for gays, lesbians, transsexuals, and bisexuals.
Last time I checked a map, San Francisco is in California.

Sure, Georgia does not yet allow same-sex marriage, but Georgia Equality is working on that. However, domestic partner rights are extended to all married couples, regardless of gender. Sure, statewide, that may be a reflection of the IRS' recognition of marriage rights for taxation purposes. However, here in Savannah and larger cities in this state, the First City Network has been paving the way for thirty years to make sure LGBT employees have businesses which welcome them, openly, to their workforces.
Go ahead, check the listings on their page. I'll wait.

See all the religious sites that openly welcome all people, regardless of gender?
Agape Empowerment
Asbury Memorial United Methodist Church
Congregation Mickve Israel
St. Paul's Episcopal Church
Unity of Savannah
Unitarian Universalist Church of Savannah
Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Statesboro

That's right, even here in the Bible Belt, sanctuary may be had by all of God's people, regardless of race, gender, or even religious beliefs. That second church on the list, Asbury Memorial UMC, is the one I've been part of for the past ten years.
I've been a member of First City Network for the past eight years.
And, when I was stationed at the naval base in Imperial Beach, a southern suburb of San Diego, I was a member of PFLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians And Gays). That was in 1983.
No one who knows me would ever claim I was closed-minded.
Everyone who knows me know I support equal rights for all.
When I was in high school in the mid-1970's, I even debated with my Grandpa the issues concerning the rights of homosexuals to marry.
So, you see, fighting for equality is part of my moral fiber. It's as much a part of me as my bones are.

My little sister's wife doesn't understand that about me, even after all these years.
Because I live in Georgia, I must be narrow-minded.
You know, like she is.
Though, in truth, she has boxed herself into this bigotry as a result of the choices she has made. No doubt, because of those choices, her current lifestyle has generated a narrow view of "normal".
She lives in Azalea Park, a gay-borhood developed back in 2003. The three children she and my little sister adopted all attend San Diego Cooperative Charter school, a gay-friendly school. She chooses to only frequent gay-friendly businesses and my little sister owns an LGBT-counseling business.
In other words, everyone she comes into contact with in this enclave are gay-friendly people (i.e., PFLAG), if not themselves LGBT.
Thus, given the limited exposure to general population and immersion into a skewed lifestyle, everyone around her and her family in San Diego, all 3 million of them, as well as everyone else in the state of California, embrace LGBT individuals, gay rights, and same-sex marriage.
My question to her is this: Why is there a need for counseling of LGBT people, if all is so lovely and accepted? How is it that my little sister's business has grown by such large numbers, if San Diego is such an egalitarian place for people of all genders?
Answer: Bigotry and narrow minds exist everywhere, even in California.

I think Cyndi's biggest problem is with the friendship Sue and I have.
I think she cannot fathom why my little sister has such a close friendship with me, if we were never lovers.
I think she resents the memories that Sue and I have, because she was not part of that history.
That is sad.
History is not something which can be changed. Everyone has a past peopled with some who are no longer present, some who are, some who have moved on. No one is going to meet someone in their twenties or thirties who doesn't have a past that included this new person. That's simply life, n'est-ce pas?
This isn't my first rodeo. I have met people before who are jealous of the unshared past of their lover. All you can do is keep presenting yourself honestly and hope that one day they will accept you.
Well, it's been nine years.
I'm still waiting.

Now, my little sister's alcoholic dad is dying, here in Savannah. She had called me last Friday, shortly after I had returned from a long drive from Ormond Beach. She had explained that her dad's house was a mess, as his bowels had released in several areas, according to the paramedics who had extracted him from the house on New Year's Day. She was concerned about getting the house cleaned. Could I help?
Of course I told her I would. I said it might be a day or two, but I would handle it.
The very next day, she sent me a panicked text. When was the work to be done? She was concerned about salvaging the floors, especially the fairly new wood floors. I explained that body fluids do their damage within hours, and it had already been at least two days. No amount of hurrying would change their status at this point. I had arranged to go to the house on Sunday afternoon for an estimate to be done and would get the key from the neighbor then.
And that is what happened. I met with my first niece and her mom, who had cleaned the house a couple of years earlier, again when Sue's dad was in the hospital. We assessed the situation, gave Sue a call and an estimate, and left, to return on Monday at noon, for what we thought would be a couple of hours of work.
Somehow, on Sunday, we had missed the front bedroom, which was inundated with various body fluids.
I had arrived first on Monday and kept smelling a foul stench in the hall, across from the closed bathroom door. I opened the door across from the bathroom and immediately was repulsed - and chagrined. I texted Sue with the bad news: I had missed this room. The carpet, the mattress, the pillows, the bedding - all would have to be destroyed.
I received no response from her.
Instead, her wife called me to talk about it.
I never spoke to Sue again.
I almost felt that I had been bamboozled into helping her. Perhaps Cyndi had her call me that day, to ask for help, knowing I would not deny Sue any assistance?
Who knows? If I were a paranoid person, I might believe that scenario.

So, on Monday, I washed, dried, and folded five loads of bedding, towels, and clothes. I washed, dried, and put away two loads of dishes in the dishwasher. I helped my first niece and her mom haul bags of refuse out to the truck, to haul to the dump. I helped them move the furniture in the trashed bedroom to allow the ruined carpet to be cut into strips for hygienic removal. Those were piled into the truck, for a second trip to the dump.
And I spoke to Cyndi at least twice.
Just before 5:30 PM, we called it a day. The dump was full and could not take the carpet and mattress. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. The impending death of a dear friend's parent is very hard on me, body and soul.
That evening, about 9:30 PM, I decided, justthatfast, to go to a movie. Did Boo want to join me to see "Wild"? Yes, she did! And so we went and thoroughly enjoyed the story and the pacing of the film and, especially, the soundtrack. What a perfect way to unwind after such a stressful day for both of us!
My soul was restored, serenity was mine.
Then I turned my phone on.
I should have left the damned thing off.
I had three accusatory text messages from Cyndi concerning the "before and after" photos I had posted for her to see. I also had a very disturbing voice message from Sue, who wasn't even supposed to have seen the photos. In her message, she even threatened litigation if her dad's house were to be broken into as a result of people seeing the photos and knowing he wasn't home.
I deleted all of the messages from my phone. If only I could have done the same in my mind.
I checked on my fb photo album. Had I mistakenly tagged Sue? Her dad? Anyone besides me, Cyndi, my first niece and her mom?
No.
No, I definitely had not.
Then how had Sue seen the photos?
Only one way that could have happened: Cyndi had shown her.
I changed the access to the photos to "only me", then signed off and went to bed.
Not to sleep.
Oh, no.
Not without tossing and turning, my mind running 90 miles per hour.
Then I slept only a couple of hours before awaking, my mind again racing through the remembered hateful messages and accusatory words. Had I deliberately tried to embarrass Sue's dad? Had I purposely put his property in jeopardy? Had I wanted to cause her that much more anguish at this troubling time?
Of course I had done none of those things.
I was mortified and deeply hurt that she would have thought me capable of such malice.

I waited until the next morning, then called Sue's phone. Of course I got her voice mail, she was working. I left a message, nearly sobbing, clearly hurt, about Cyndi having asked that I send her the photos, about the privacy settings I had on the photos, about what was clearly a misunderstanding on their part.
Then, I did nothing.
Nothing at the house, nothing involving San Diego.
Completely nothing.
When my first niece called about taking the ruined carpet to the dump, I told her "no rush, not today, maybe not tomorrow, either". She could tell something was amiss, but she didn't push. Her schedule was pretty hectic, so the respite was good for her.
Later on Tuesday night, my phone rang briefly, but cut off before I could pick it up. It was Cyndi, but she had disengaged before even the voice mail kicked in.
Good.
I sure as hell didn't want to talk to her.
Sue owed me a call. Our friendship surely meant enough to her that she would be the one to call... I hoped.
That didn't happen.
On Wednesday (yesterday), I had a luncheon in the area and had made plans with my first niece to meet after the lunch was over. Just before 2 PM, I contacted her: I was at the house, so she could come anytime. She was sending her husband, to help get the soiled mattress onto the truck.
And, as if on cue, Cyndi texted me. The old man across the street had not yet received the key. Did I still have it? He also said the truck had been driven. Why?
So, I explained about the dump being closed and the truck being used to get rid of the carpet. Would she rather the carpet stay in the truck and wait for Sue to take it to the dump when she came to town in a couple of weeks?
Yep, that's what she wanted, postulating that there was some uncertainty about what his truck insurance would or would not cover. She also was insistent about the key being given back to the neighbor for safekeeping.
Right about then, Jason had pulled up. I thanked him for his assistance, but we would be leaving the carpet where it was. I then determinedly crossed the street, knocked on the neighbor's door, and gave him the key.
I brushed my hands off, literally and figuratively, of the whole business.

This morning, I had an email from Sue.
Cyndi had misrepresented the photos to her, making her believe they were public instead of restricted access. Sue also explained that Cyndi had broken the news to her as she was leaving work, after a very busy day, and she had simply been overwhelmed by the responsibilities to her clients, her family, and her dad. She was sorry for the misunderstanding and hoped we could all move past the whole sorry mess.
I hope we can.
But the next time Sue needs something done at her dad's house, I'll be recommending that she call in professionals and leave me out of it.
Our friendship is too valuable to me.

baby it's cold outside

I haven't even opened the front door today.
Brrrr!!!
I was supposed to meet my biggest little brother today for lunch at the Sisters of the New South. He's never had their fried chicken and, hands down, it's the best fried chicken in town. White meat, dark meat, it really doesn't matter. The chicken is tasty and juicy and your mouth begs for more of it.
Not for me today.
I called him and flat out told him it was too cold outside and I was not leaving my house.
The sales taxes for December? The 4th Quarter taxes?
Not today, nosirreebob.
My silly self was staying at home.
Yes, as I told him, as I tell everyone, I am a wienie about the cold.
I detest, loathe, and hate being cold.
In anticipation of the Arctic temperatures, I closed off the sunroom yesterday. I hated to do it, I hated to lose that bright space in the mornings. But, as I had discovered last year, it does have a positive impact on my heating bill to have that open room sealed off from the kitchen.
So far today, even staying in the house, even with the sunroom blocked off, I have been cold ever since I got out of my nice warm bed. My bed with the heated mattress pad.
I so look forward to the day being done so I can crawl right back into its warm embrace.
Brrrr!!!

sunday crossword puzzle

It just isn't as much fun working it solo.
The final Sunday crossword puzzle of 2014 had been worked with Paul and Cathy. Between the three of us, we solved every clue.
This is the first Sunday crossword puzzle of 2015. I've been working on it for the past three days.
I'm done with it.
That's not to say I've completely solved it.
Oh, no. It's quite evident in this photograph that I still have much to do to attain that goal.
I could do a few goodsearches, find the missing proper names I'm missing, look up some geographical places I cannot recall.
To my credit, I've worked out the theme for the long answer clues. (Just add "d", leading to lunar drover, dad campaign, dart historian.)
But I am done with working on it. Another Sunday is on its way. Time to put this piece of the past into the recycling bin.
Later!

a drop of water

Sometimes, a different perspective is needed.
This is definitely one of those times.
Yesterday, my first niece, my outlaw Melinda, and I spent five hours setting right the house of my little sister's dad. What a totally depressing afternoon.
I spent most of that time gathering bed linens, toweling, clothing, then evaluating the items. Salvageable? Too badly damaged by body fluids?
I also worked in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher twice, unloading it three times. Why? It had not yet been unloaded from a previous time when he had washed dishes.
I had it easy.
Christina and Melinda had the horror show in the main bathroom and the front bedroom.
Even so, the work, and the atmosphere in the house, took its toll on me, mentally, spiritually, and physically. One of the downsides of getting older, a downside that no one really talks about, is that of helping those dear to you bury their parents and siblings.
My dear Jo, from my high school days, lost her youngest brother on New Year's Day. Still no word on when his funeral will be, due to legal complications.
Sue's dad is again in the hospital. Word is that he may never come home again. We were there yesterday trying to make the house habitable before Sue arrives in a few weeks.
I doubt she will actually be able to stay there.
The smell of cigarette smoke swats you as soon as the front door is opened. It's engrained in the furniture, the carpeting, the very paint on the walls, even the air and the ice in the refrigerator. Even keeping the house open the entire time we were there could not dissipate those many years of smoke inhalation by the furnishings.
We have one more trip to make there, to haul the carpet to the dump.
I wish I was done with it.

there but for the grace of God

At least my youngest brother is still alive.
Sure, he's in prison, after killing his girlfriend, both in a drunken and drugged state, almost eight years ago.
But he's still alive.
For my long-time friend from our high school days, the same cannot be said of her youngest brother.

Both of us have had at least two decades of struggles with younger brothers making bad decisions. Both of our youngest brothers have had problematic relationships, exacerbated by the use of drugs and alcohol.
Problematic, hell. Let's call it what it is.
Abusive.
Any time one person is beating another person is not simply "problematic" - it's violent, brutal, and unacceptable.
When two people feel compelled to use brute force and threats of death on each other, they need to walk away while they still can.

Her youngest brother had been in trouble before for multiple threats, and actions, of violence against his wife.
My youngest brother would have been in the papers earlier, too, for those same charges, except his former girlfriends didn't come forward with any charges against him. They just left and didn't go back.
Except for Ann. She just couldn't stay away.
Sadly, she died and he went to prison.
My youngest brother will be out in 2020, if he serves the full thirteen-year sentence.
He'll be 53 years old.

My friend's youngest brother is now dead, by his own hand. He killed his recently-estranged girlfriend first, then killed himself.
He was only 48 years old, just a year older than my youngest brother.

Rest in peace, Tony Mooney.

blue skies up ahead!

Today was a dreary gray day on the road.

I had already had
two dreary gray days
at the beach
and now I was heading home,
along with lots of other
post-holiday travelers.
And we were all riding
under dreary gray skies.
And stopping on the highway.
A lot.
I guess the folks in McDonough, Georgia, had gone to Florida and were now returning home. Bless their pea-pickin' hearts, they absolutely cannot drive. They seem to think that when approaching an exit, you need to STOP, especially if you are in the far left lane and your exit - or somebody's exit - is nearing on the right.
I am being serious here. Anyone who has ever had to drive that stretch of I-75 between Macon and Atlanta can attest to the total lack of driving skills in evidence around those exits for McDonough. On road trips to visit my youngest brother or my BFF, I have taken to driving thirty minutes out of my way so as to avoid those idiots.
Yet, here they were, repeatedly stopping traffic on I-95, on their way out of Florida.
Sigh.
Very disheartening.

I had tried driving along the A1A,
riding along the Atlantic Ocean,
for a while.
But the gray sky
reflected onto the gray water
and the gray beach
and the gray mist
which hung over all.
So,
instead,
I had relented and chosen the interstate for the path home.
And there they were, the horrible drivers from McDonough.
Or perhaps simply their kinfolk.
Sigh.
Stop and go, stop and go.
Seventy miles per hour, then down to zero.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.

Then, a patch of blue sky appeared!
Not upward
- oh, no,
that remained
gray, gray, gray.
But directly in my vision,
straight ahead of me after
switching to my lane -
blue sky!
I'll take it!

I stayed right behind that vehicle and its patch of blue sky until we reached Jacksonville. Then it turned westward and I continued northbound, relaxed and serene.
The McDonough folks?
Who knows! Who cares!
Traffic seemed to cruise along as it should after that, until I was approaching Brunswick.
There, another spate of stop and go resumed.

But what was that pattern on the back of that truck?
Not just gray there...
it was blue!
Definitely blue!
A bit faded, true, yet still visible against the gray metal on its flanks.
And calmness pervaded my body and mind.
I had another patch of blue sky to lead the way home.
Nice.

i Thank You, God.

not with a bang, but a giggle

Tonight, I ended 2014 with a roomful of strangers, with a few acquaintances scattered about.
What fun!
I was at one of my favorite places in Daytona Beach, the Cinematique, for an evening of entertainment - and dinner! - for only a couple of Jacksons. Very nice! The night began with an opening hour of free wine and beer, with noshes at hand. I sipped two glasses of Cabernet while nibbling on cheese, chips & salsa, and olives - yum!
Then Random Acts of Insanity arrived for their first set! I had caught the last half of their improv last night when I had arrived to town and was thrilled to get more of the zaniness! Andrew Ramos (the lead instigator of frivolity) and Menos were the only ones tonight had in common with last night. Both have voice talents which allow them to seamlessly riff between their own and those of Christopher Walken, Marlon Brando, Jimmy Stewart, and Robert Deniro - fun! They were joined by George, Scott, and JG tonight for quite a few games, including Fractured Fairy Tales, Forward/Reverse, Ding, Two-headed Date, Party Guests, and others. Each of the guys took turns being the emcee and several of them were called upon to be "girls", as in the day of Shakespeare.
Seriously fun!
I made sure to participate by calling out suggestions for game themes, items or words to be included, accents to be used - oh, yes, just as if I were home at an Odd Lot show! About half the audience had never been to an improv show, but by RAI's post-dinner set, everyone was chiming in. Good!
The dinner, a buffet between sets, was catered by an Ormond Beach group, DB Pickles. Big bowl of crispy salad, baked chicken breasts in gravy, roasted red potatoes, and garlicky green beans - quite tasty! Of course I had seconds! Then, for dessert, fabulous chocolate macaroons and red velvet cupcakes, along with an assortment of cookies for cRuNCH!
I was glad the fellows weren't tasked with entertaining us during the dinner. Rather, the dinner was sandwiched between the two hour-long sets of improv, allowing full enjoyment of all aspects of each.
The final game ended just a few minutes before midnight, allowing all guests the time to receive a glass of champagne and get their party favors in hands or atop heads. (I wore my sparkly pink and silver headband-cum-tiara, so I was set from the get-go!)
Then the grand countdown! 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
There were even fireworks, courtesy of the city, visible from our perch on Beach Street!
Nicely done, y'all!