Mr. Eddie Long,

There is only one reason ANYONE takes camera shots of themselves posing in a bathroom. They are varying degrees of a mating display. Any other excuse from you is a cover story. You are lying to your family, your congregation, your victims, and yourself.

I suspect that if you had been allowed to be your true self as a young man you would not have felt like you had to hide your organic nature. If you had not been judged or feared judgement you would not have made it your life's work to cruelly judge others who have the internal strength to live their lives honestly.

I know how abuse works. At some point in your life you were abused. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. And now you abuse. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually.

I know how Narcissistic Personality Disorder works. You have learned to consider yourself infallible as a coping mechanism. The other option was to look at your behaviors and your desires and injuries honestly. And you can't do that can you? You can't do it because you live in a world of hatred that you helped create and perpetuate.

I know a little about fanaticism too. Have you figured it out yet that your external judgements are really about what you hate in yourself...not in others? Probably not yet. You need to hit bottom first, I guess.

With any luck it will be a fast fall and a hard landing.

Sister Knows Best

Big C's fish died last night. It wasn't a surprise. He'd been lingering near the top for a couple of days. We'd all had a chance to say farewell so the grieving is progressing as expected: some tears, some trouble sleeping, and a renewed respect for all life...even the box elder bugs that are currently trying to turn my house into hibernaculum. The cygnets have been picking them up in the house and carrying them outside. Of course, for every one they displace, three more fly in and two ride in on the kids' backs.

It is clearly a battle we are losing.

But there is another one we are winning. It is called "Raising Our Children To Be Friends Not Rivals." For proof I submit Exhibit A:

Miss M finds out about Horace, the the fish, and immediately goes to find her beloved brother. This is what she says into the top of his head as he cries and they embrace:

"I sure wish I knew what a big sister was supposed to say in times like these to ease her younger brother's suffering. (Pause. Sniffle. Sob.) I'm so sorry about Horace. He was a good fish and he never did anyone any harm. We'll all miss him."

Decision Time

Shaved and shivering Goldendoodle.

Serendipitous Scooby-Doo Halloween costume.

What would you do?

Yep, me too! Only, I didn't get any pictures for you yet because I was laughing too hard. And now I am doing laundry, because both Olly and I peed on the sidewalk.

You'll be SO proud of me!!

I finally did it and it didn't backfire! I did not have an anxiety "issue" and I didn't even piss anyone off. Just what did I do and how did I do it so deftly? I'll tell you!

But first, you must know, that I have been practicing for his moment most of my life. One of my earliest memories of it not working was when it got me kicked out of church choir. But since that was kind of my claim to fame for many years it wasn't a total failure. Hell, I still pull that one out if I want to sound like a Wild Child. More recently there was that flight. And that Attendant. And the whole Pre-flight Instructions Situation. Yaaahhh...that one was a flop. I was right, I'll have you know. But a failure nonetheless.

During the 27 year gap between those two events the practice has mostly been in my head. But tonight was the perfect culmination of 30+ years of Thinking Something I Want To Say To An Annoying Person And Then...Actually Saying It!

What made this so perfect was that I was not in trouble when I said it (Exhibit A above) nor was I holding up a crowded flight, risking removal from the plane and flirting with police intervention (Exhibit B). I was correcting the pompous clerk at Office Max.

The 20ish check out boy was the only one ringing on a Monday night. There was a line of two in front of me and by the time I was done there were three more behind. Uncommon, I'll admit, for a Monday night. Staffing was clearly an issue. Which is when anyone with retail experience knows...you cut the chit-chat and move the line. Right?

Not this guy. He was clearly under the impression that because we were standing there to see him we qualified as an audience. It must help him sleep at night. How he justifies dropping out of Community College to pursue a smoking Stand Up career in the Midwest. And how he makes it feel ok that he works nights at Office Max but only when he doesn't have a gig. So, you know, every night.

He used BIG words in his repartee like "neither" and "nor." He even used them correctly, emphasizing them and all. What I gathered while listening to his shtick with Customer 1 was that his "persona" is kind of that smarter-than-you-nerd. Character development was a little weak but his timing and delivery were spot on. I have to give him that. What I gathered from his banter with Customer 2 was that he needs to write some more material. Same lines. Same jokes. Same tempo and pause for the laugh. Customer 2 gave it to him too, that wimp! But not me.

(I am going to break this down because I'd like to be able to repeat my success. There is a fine line between public service and being an ass.)

Clerk: blah blah blah...neither A nor B...(run hand through shoulder length wavy hair)...blah blah blah...can I see your card just to verify that you are, in fact, humanoid...blah blah blah...so if you'll just present me with your Herbie Hancock right there on the screen...

Alpha: Are you even old enough to know who Herbie Hancock is?

Clerk: (all bravado fades) Um, well, I saw it on Tommy Boy. He's like a guy from some band or something.

Alpha: Do you know why that line is funny in the movie?

(chirp chirp chirp--those are crickets)

Alpha: (cont.) Do you know who John Hancock is?

(chirp chirp chirp)

(And here is how I know I was still operating in the realm of public service)

Clerk: (nervously) Well, I know his name is what some people say when they ask for a signature.

Alpha: Declaration of Independence?

Clerk: YAH! That guy! He wrote his name real big, right?

Alpha: He did, indeed.

Clerk: (genuinely smiles) Thanks!

on the lighter side...

I had a 7 year old tell me the following last week:

"You're kind of weird. I mean, from the outside your house looks abandoned. Like no one lives there. But on the inside it is so nice. I am not trying to hurt your feelings or anything. 'Cause your house is really clean. But only the inside part."

I told him we spend the WHOLE year getting ready for Halloween on the outside.

While I died just a little bit on the inside part.

My thoughts on the subject

9-11 started with fear and resulted in fear. It was a violent and horrific fundamentalist response to the fearful sensations of a changing world. The response? An increase in fundamentalism in our own country. That just breaks my heart.

Fear is the spark that ignites fundamentalism of every flavor.

It minimizes internal reflection and correction. It isolates us from any true connection with others because people are taught to apply rules harshly. It requires strict obedience or else. It cuts off any growth.

It glorifies simplistic moral reasoning.

It is the absolute opposite of love.

A Confectionary Life

Have I told y'all I live next door to a cupcake? She is 4. Nearly 5. Miss Lil is not one of those vegetables-disguised-as-dessert kind of cupcakes. Not a speck of carrot or zucchini in this kid. She is like spun sugar on a windy day. With sprinkles.

Miss Lil was playing with Miss M the other day. It is worth mentioning that Miss M is the only one who notices the 8 year gap in ages but doesn't mind it one bit. She really enjoys playing with cupcakes. So they walked through the kitchen while I was making dinner and I showed her what we were having and invited her to join us. After checking with her mother, she skipped back over and helped set the table. (You think that is something, I had her 2 year old sister washing my windows this week too!)

We were all on our best behavior and having a genial conversation when she asked me this:

"So, Alpha, were you fired or something?"

Which is, I guess, her way of asking why I am home during the day when the women in her family work outside of the home like the men do. It was a tricky thing to answer because, yes, I was fired from the last job I held. I was fired for being pregnant. In 1998. No shit. But that seemed a sullied path to drag a 4 year old cupcake down. I didn't want to be responsible for smudging her frosting or knocking some nonpareils off the top. So I frosted my answer too.

But I am sitting here today with my kids back at school and I miss them so much I washed curtains and upholstery this morning. But now that the afternoon is here I feel my mind settling and thinking about why I stay home. Not what I do or how I fill the time. But actually why.

And I don't know how to answer that completely. For myself or for her. As the morning's sun gives way to the afternoon's gust with the smell of rain on its heels I am remembering a day like this almost a year ago...

I was just home from the morning deliveries (both boys AND both lunches thank you very much). I picked up our Netflix movies and grabbed an umbrella to go take them to the mailbox on a cold and rainy Fall day.

But when I looked out there was now a kid's bike in the road that was not there just 2 minutes ago. It wasn't parked. It was thrown aside.

At first I thought it was our neighbor Teddy's and I was going to walk it up to his house. But then I had a horrible premonition that I should not touch the bike.

I'm looking at this bike, up and down the street, and back to this bike with its handle bars at a drastic angle.

A neighbor pulls out of his driveway and sees it too and stops me. "What's wrong?" the lawyer asks when he sees the bike in the road and me with my concern under a frog umbrella. "I don't know, Dave."

And just then the neighbor boy comes out from between two houses. Riley is a good kid. He should be in school. But it is his week on for chemotherapy so he is home.

Last winter Riley's family had to put their old dog down. And Riley LOVES dogs. He had spent months asking for a dog.

Then in June, he doubles over at a soccer game and they ran him to the ER thinking it is his appendix. Nope. It is a grapefruit sized, very rare, and very aggressive cancerous mass in his abdomen.

Riley is Miss M's age. He is smart and polite but with an edge of sass to him--just the way I like them. And I have ALWAYS had a soft-spot for this kid who never stops smiling. Who will wave every time he rides by.

From falling on the field, to arrival at the little ER in Wisconsin, to being taken by ambulance to the Children's Hospital, to surgery took about 4 hours.

They had a new puppy in the house within a week.

The pup is SO cute. And I totally understand why they bought the red headed golden retriever. Oh, he is so vintage golden! None of that square-headed blonde thing going on. Snipey and shiny golden-red. He is a good puppy. He will be a great dog. But the dear family does not have the time to train him. And even if they did the dog is 6 months old and SASSY.

Anyway...Riley comes around the house with an empty leash and I tell the lawyer in the car it is ok. The boy stumbles over. He is wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt and a stocking cap. His feet are bare with bits of grass and leaves pressed to the wet between his toes.

And my heart just cracks down the middle.

He has no eyebrows and he is pale and bloated. And he is standing in the rain in his jammies, crying.

He won't take my jacket. He won't get in my car and drive around with me to look.

But I go to get my car anyway to help him look. I grab a jacket to make him wear it. And I planned on finding the pup and then calling his mom and making the boy hot chocolate.

But...

When I stepped out after grabbing my keys and a coat for him, his mom is stopped with her car in the middle of the street.

She came home from running an errand and Riley was gone. So she drove around looking for him and found his bike in the middle of the road.

And then my heart shattered.

I yelled for Riley and he came around from behind another house, she looked up and saw him with the empty leash in one hand and the puppy in the other. And she fell to her knees. In the leaves. In the gutter. In the rain.

And here is this beautiful boy. His tears hidden by the rain. Smiling and holding his puppy and waving at his mom. The puppy which, more and more, seems like a symbol of this battle they are fighting.

He put the dog in the car. Picked up his mom. And then picked up his bike.

And if I'm not here who would see this? Who would hold this in their heart and never forget it? I am reminded, once again, how lucky I am to have this time at home. This sweet, frosted time in my life.