Prissmas is coming! Prissmas is coming!

Prissmastime is almost here. So unclench and get ready for a stream of "I told you so!"

You may not know that each year, for several years now, we've been celebrating Prissmas in April. Traditionally, Prissmas falls on the Saturday nearest Hitler's birthday. We make this reference not because of any affinity for Hitler, but because it's fun to point out that Lady Prisspott shares the same birthday - perhaps even the same year, we can't be sure, (there's an eraser hole in Prisspott's birth certificate).

"What," you ask, "is Prissmas?"

Prissmas is the celebration of the spirit of "I told you so."

You told your dear, dear friend the Dorothy Hammell look went away with the previous century, but did she listen? No. She went and got the awful bob and is now telecommuting until her hair grows out. You've been tactfully supportive and understanding, but now it's PRISSMAS! Call her up and scream "I TOLD YOU NOT TO GET THAT HAIRCUT!" then bask in a warm feeling that's reminiscent of peeing in the pool.

Let's get you started on YOUR Prissmas celebration.

Traditional Garb:

An apron and lei. You can wear other things in addition to the apron and lei, but it's not required.

Decorations:

A dead tree branch, painted pink. Stick it in the ground outside and adorn it with rats and crabs. The original Prissmas tree also had plastic martini glasses and orange ribbon.

Food:

Anything that can be cooked in a bonfire that would at first cause one to think, "Hmmm. No. I'm not eating that." But in actuality, really isn't half bad.

Mountain Pies: Two slices of bread, slathered with anything, enclosed in a pie iron and stuck into the bonfire.

Pre-Packaged Stuff: Bags of chips, cookies, easily shared finger foods in burnable packages.

Beverages:

Liquor. There's no explanation necessary. Liquor is liquor. You know what to do. Besides, it'll help loosen your tongue. "I told you those pants made you look . . . fatter."

Beer. For those who have to drive.

Other. It doesn't matter which. In fact, don't even bother. If someone needs to drink 'other' beverages, they're probably not at your Prissmas gathering.

Events:

Prissmas Bonfire: It's not Prissmas without a bonfire. And it's not a Prissmas bonfire unless it's secretly doused with gas before some unsuspecting fool lights it (THWOOM!) More than a few eyebrows have been lost in this manner. For many months we've been carting our scrap wood and burnables out to the field at Prisspott Manor and piling high the Prissmas pyre.

The Bonfire Ballet: You set your chairs up around the, as yet unlit, bonfire and chat and gab with your 'friends.' Of course (ala Musical Chairs) there's never enough chairs for everyone, so some have to stand around and chat. THWOOM! You get up from the ground, shield your face from the fire while reaching for your overturned chair to pull it further away from the fire to a more comfortable temperature. (Like, say, Cleveland.) Those without an original chair can take this moment to snag a chair from one of the other people who haven't yet come to. The fire begins to burn down a bit and you start to notice the nip in the air. So you scootch your chair closer. You might take this opportunity to refill your drink - or, if you're drinking from the bottle, to open another. Again - people without a chair can take this refill time to commandeer a seat for themselves. Rinse and repeat.

The Who-Catches-On-Fire-First-Pool (Also known as Flaming Queen): This is probably self-explanatory, given the details of the Prissmas Bonfire. In our circles, we can't actually have the betting pool, because everyone predicts it will be Lady Prisspott. Clearly, she's a crowd favorite, what with the tree incident, and the flaming gas can incident, and, well, these would just take up an entirely different blog entry to explain. Suffice it to say, she's a shoe-in to win every year. (Sometimes, when the spirit of Prissmas hits us, we even try to set her on fire at other times of the year. What fun. Good times.)

Liquor Spitter: Take a swig of cheap, gosh-awful-tasting liquor straight from the bottle. Swagger as close to the bonfire as you (safely?) can. Spit the liquor into the bonfire. The bigger the FWOOSH!--the more right you are when you said 'I told you so.' You'll need others to watch, because after the FWOOSH, you're either getting sick from the icky booze or running around screaming "MY EYES! MY EYES!" like a big sissy.

Walk the Plank: You did it when you were little, why did you ever stop? It's the let's-see-how-this-burns game. Take those little plastic soldier men and afix them to the end of a stick, then put him in the fire! "I'm melllllltingggg!" Empty wine bottle? Most of them melt (some may even explode - or so I'm told by old One Eye). Place it in the perfect spot of glowing embers and argue with the others who try to move it with the stick to the OTHER perfect spot. (The next afternoon, you can collect from the ashes anything that didn't entirely burn up and make jewelry!)

Prissmas Carols: Bore your friends to tears by singing EVERY LAST Prissmas carol in your own Prissmas Carol Book. Here's the first ever Prissmas Carol.

Prissmas is Coming
(To the tune of Christmas is Coming - and can be sung in a round!)

Prissmas is coming
We’ll rub it in your face
Time to bust your chops and
Put you in your place

If you’ve had a lapse in judgement
(A small faux pas will do)
If you’ve made a slight mistake
You know that we’ll tell you
We’ll tell you!

The Burning of the Prissmas Tree:

After you've removed your keepsake crabs and rats, the Prissmas tree is 'uprooted' and with great whooping and fanfare, tossed onto the bonfire. You may even choose to sing O Prissmas Tree.

O Prissmas Tree
(To the tune of O Christmas Tree)

O Prissmas Tree O Prissmas Tree
We’re so much more superior

O Prissmas Tree O Prissmas Tree
You can kiss our posterior

We’ve come to say “I told you so!”
And lift our thumbs up to our nose.

O Prissmas Tree O Prissmas Tree
We know that you’re inferior.

The greatest compliment that can ever be bestowed upon a Prissmas event hostess is -- "You've RURNT Prissmas!" And it must be pronounced 'rurnt.' (It means ruined.) If someone says this to you at Prissmastime, it means you've sufficiently shattered any hopes that some faux pas they've performed over the past year has been forgotten. You've crossed the line then. It's progressed from a frivolous outting of light-hearted, friendly jabs to the true meaning of Prissmas, self satisfaction that you were, indeed, right. And now, everyone knows it.

Thank you for your generosity !

My hopes of a smooth transition to college life is becoming a reality. The donations have started pouring in from all over the country.

Well, THE donation has poured in and it should put a dent into the price of some books.

I promise that everything donated to this college endeavor will be used for college.

So, pull out your change jars and dig in the sofa. Pennies make dollars!

And I swear, we will NOT eat Dora.

Train of Thought

A common term, bandied about on the train, is 'management.'

Management, in that circle, means "my wife."
Senior Management means "mother" or "mother-in-law."
The Cartel is the circle of commuter's wives [management] who know and talk to each other.

Used in a sentence, "I'd love to come to the pub tonight, but the cartel told management what I did last time, so I'm on lockdown."

Now, since I'm gay, I happen to be a curiosity for the eunuchs. There is no female in my household, who is management?

I tell them, there IS no management, but then they insist it must be me. "Because," insert circular logic "Only management would deny being management." [Remember Life of Brian? - "Only the true Messiah would deny his divinity!"]

Seriously, I live in a cooperative. Co-ops, for short "are based on the values of self-help, self-responsibility, democracy, equality, equity and solidarity. . . . Co-operative members believe in the ethical values of honesty, openness, social responsibility and caring for others." - Wikipedia

They vehemently deny the existance of such an entity in a married household.

Once, I told my husband I wanted to go to the strip club (See Strip Club Epiphanies) and did he have any objections? A courtesy, really.

"Ah HA!"
What?
"You asked permission to go out. HE's management."

So, time passes and they ask a question here and there, trying to nail the title of management to one of us.
"Who handles the money?"
My paycheck pays for [list], his paycheck pays for [list].
"Who does the dishes?"
Like that would determine it? We both do.
"Who decides where to go on vacation?"
We both agree on when and where to go out, but I am more social than he is.
"Ah HA!"
What?
"YOU'RE MANAGEMENT!"

[I shake my head.]

Time passes again and we're all at a pub. I am observed coming from the bar multiple times with our beers.
"Ah HA!"
What?
"Your serving HIM ! HE must be management!"

[I shake my head.]

Really, I suspect they only do this to rankle me, but they come across as wild animals, raised in captivity, who have no IDEA that there is a better way of living. Their pea-sized, henpecked brains cannot be wrapped around the philosophy of a cooperative existence. It MUST be dominate or be dominated. (Which, of course, can be fun now and again - but I digress.)

[Still shaking my head.]

It has now occurred to me that the Eunuchs claim I am part of the cartel. I must confront them this evening and solve the conundrum: If HE is management [which they are currently insisting] then how can I be in the cartel?

Hmmmm? One of two things will happen:
1) More circular logic or
2) Their heads will explode.

I need to buy a slicker.

Save Dora !

How to raise tuition for college.

(I)
The order in which we would eat our pets if we run low on funds because of college.*



(II) (These ideas were inspired by my train friends.)

1) $100 dollars for every time I answer a commuter's wife with "I don't know." when she asks about your TR (Train Romance).
2) $30 dollars and I won't 'act straight' and charming when there's a new girl on the train.
3) Sell individual beers to train riders for a profit.**
4) $40 dollars and I'll promise not to do the open-mouth-insert-beer-bottle trick that makes the straight guys nervous.***

(III)
$500 and I'll cut my hair.

(IV)
$100 and I'll wear to work the ugliest sweater (that I'm knitting right now) for a whole week. - This offer has been withdrawn. First I'd have to finish the damn thing.

(V)
$40 + Materials and I'll knit you a scarf or a hat.

(VI)
$50 and I'll retract my statement on this jacket/dress ensemble

(*We would certainly NOT eat our pets.)
(** Probably illegal, so I wouldn't do it.)
(*** Another $40 would eliminate the beer CAN option.)

Strip Club Epiphanies II

I started to watch the women at center stage ply their craft. Chairs line the curved edge of the oval-shaped, knee-high stage, which was divided lengthwise with a mirrored wall.

As disinterested as I was in any parts that the women shaved or jiggled, I focused on their faces and their shoes. Wait a minute. They wear makeup? Aside from me, who's ever going to be paying attention to their faces? That's not where one stuffs the dollar bills. Every single performer had a far away look in their eyes, like the expression a cat gets in the litterbox. Ironically, as disinterested as I was in their bodies, they were just as disinterested in the men looking at their bodies.

Like, I said, I'm watching their faces and when they faced their 'client' they shook and jiggled and gave them a you're-the-only-one look, but when they turned away to gyrate and expose other parts, their faces transformed to a mental shopping list. You could actually see them go somewhere else in their heads--like, "Did I leave the iron on?" Right, like you own an iron.

So, guys - and girls - this epiphany is going to be a little difficult to digest, so you'd better sit down. It's better you learn it hear than face the harsh reality in the field. Ready? When you're getting a lap dance, they don't really mean it.

I spent the rest of the time waiting for my friends with my back to the stages, playing video games and getting multiple high scores in all of the spelling and strategy games until they arrived. (If you ever want to feel really good about yourself play the spelling games at a redneck bar.)

While I played, one of the diminutive performers in her street clothes took the bar stool next to me and ordered a drink. ("Is it her? Can it be? Is she one of the performers?") I tried not to stare and while trying not to stare, I had another epiphany. I was in a place where one is supposed to stare. All this time, I'm politely trying NOT to stare, when I paid a cover charge in order to do just that. (Like I said before, this is not one of my usual haunts.)

She smiled at me as she took her drink and cigarettes and deftly climbed down from the stool, without spilling a drop, then headed to the dressing room to prepare. The performance time was drawing closer and the big, mirrored stage was transforming. The wall of mirrors were slid back into the wall to reveal an entire other room! Chairs were placed all the way around a now 360 degree stage. This new room had couches that surrounded mini stages with poles. There were steps up to another bar, neon and pool tables and a mechanical bull! Very exciting.

All of the non-dancing employees scurried about to make this new room ready. These busy men all wore their "court clothes." You know, jackets and ties, slacks and button down shirts that working stiffs wear to court to appear, I dunno, respectable? Innocent? (I'm sure judges are fooled all the time.) It's hard to describe how these men didn't look natural in what they were wearing. Maybe it was the expression on their faces, or the haircuts that didn't really go with the ensemble, or even the L-O-V-E / H-A-T-E tattooed on their knuckles, I'm not sure.

You'll remember, I took some time to think about what to wear to a strip club. It was a wasted effort. In a sea of flannel and Lynard Skynard t-shirts , I was wearing a nice black button shirt with a subtle vertical design in a shinier black. What a mistake. Do you know how well the black lights pick up ANY specs of lint on a black shirt? So, for you who may take that first visit to a gentlemen's club, dress for a bar room brawl, because whether you look nice or not, what really gets their attention is the denomination you wave near their Jello.

And while speaking of clothing, I was amazed at how stretchy some of the women's clothing was. Some of the girls would finish their shift and pull what seemed like a scrunchy, or one of those sporty rubberbands off of their wrist. These would magically be stretched over their head and arms then be tugged wider to cover their goodies. I'm telling you, I have never seen anything like it, but again, none of my sisters shop at the Hoochies Be Us either. (Well, maybe one, based on what she wore to our sister's wedding, but I digress.)

Next epiphany: Just TWO rubberbands, and all your naughty bits are covered. Why, oh WHY then do women need walk-in closets? Oh, nevermind, I know. The shoes.

Still more to come.

Send Chuck to Finishing School !

I know that many of you would agree that Chuck could use some refinement.

Years ago I was well on my way to a degree in English and Education at St. Mary's College of Maryland. A strong student with A's and B's, Dean's List all that jazz, I overloaded with credits every semester and studied while I worked the night audit at the local motor inn.

But then, tragedy struck. (Cue melancholy music, cut to me walking in park in Winter, as you hear my taped story.)

My father became gravely ill. He was hospitalized and diagnosed with cancer. He was too far gone and remained unconscious. I left my job and took some time off from my classes to be with him and console my sister. Eventually, I made the difficult decision to remove him from life support. When he died, he was penniless and it took whatever college money I had to get his affairs in order and take care of his funeral arrangements, so I withdrew from school completely.

I decided then that I could be penniless and jobless anywhere, so I moved to Washington, D.C. (Cue That Girl theme music.) At first I paid rent with credit card cash advances until I found work as a flower delivery guy - which paid for beer, while I still paid rent with the credit card.

Eventually I succumbed to pressure from friends and found a 'real' job that has benefits and holidays and the like.

But now, after 11 years of cubicle nonsense, I've decided to quit my job in D.C. (goodbye commute!) and enroll at Shepherd University in West Virginia to complete my English and Education degree with the goal of teaching (Cue Laverne & Shirley theme music).

Nearly all of the 'General Studies' and electives bologna have transfered as well as a number of the classic English courses, so I'll be taking pretty much only Literature and Education classes. (YAY!)

But how on EARTH are we going to pay the mortgage and buy groceries and pet food (not the same) on top of college tuition? (Would someone PLEASE think of the children! - Soldier, Maxi, Dora and Blue.)

Here's where you can help Chuck in finishing school.

Sending money with PayPal is as easy as typing in an e-mail address and clicking send, and it only takes a minute to sign up.

My e-mail address is

poizniv@gmail.com

I am, of course, leery of publishing my street address, but if you know it already, I will gladly deposit any checks I receive in my mail box.

When you visit, you could also drop any spare change into the 'College Fund' jar as well.

I am proud, but I am also not rich.

Beauty is in the Eye

On the discussion of beauty, Just Chuck and Lady Prisspott bored some of their good friends with an endless and painful diatribe.

Boiled down for blog visitors:

LP says: there must be things that are considered beautiful in all cultures.

Chuck reply: Are there? I don't think so.

Blah blah blah blah ....nature
Blah blah blah blah ....nurture
Blah blah blah blah ....jab at Chuck's hair

The whole conversation stems from:
LP likes P. Cruz's Oscars dress and Just-Chuck doesn't AND because the majority of people (interested) agree with LP, LP must be more right.

LP feels: a majority attraction must point to a universality.
Just Chuck says: No. It merely points to a majority.

I'd like to put it to a test, but all a response would show is that a portion likes this and a portion likes that.

But on a whim, for the pitifully few people who actually visit my blog:
what do you think of this blonde's dress and jacket ensemble?

Please, no comments about the blonde.

Blasts from the Past.

I hopped on Myspace a little bit ago. Created a profile - which pretty much redirects folks to this spot.

It was SO depressing. It's a place where you link to other friends spots and they link back to yours and your profile keeps a running tally of ALL your friends.

SO.

You create a profile and it says.

"You have ONE friends."

And that's TOM. Just a myspace guy. I guess they feel NO ONE should be friendless. So they automatically stick TOM in there.

Thanks, Tom.

Delete Tom yes/no?

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

Okay so now,

"You have ZERO friends."

Okay, that's just plain awful. SO, you search around (during work of course) for people you know. Send invites and friend requests and you build yourself up to the current, "You have 13 friends."

Okay, not as bad as one or zero, but nothing near as good as the friend whores who still have "TOM" and hundreds of other people linked to their page.

SO, you start broadening your search......

Hmm. Who do I know, who did I know, whom have I ever known my entire life?

Which brings me to my point today.

I located a friend from 20 years ago. We were stationed at the same place.
Hung out with the same folks and had much the same interests and pursuits.

Lots of fun.

We later went to the same college. He and his wife let me bunk at their house for a while. Still good stuff.

But, then I left that college for another one.

We didn't really write.

Pretty much lost contact.

But now he's found again. And I've redirected him to THIS page.

SO- NOW I have to hurry up and add a post here so the FIRST thing he sees when he gets here isn't "GAY CARD REQUIREMENTS."

HI MILES ! Good to find you again. How's Carla?
Click around a bit to get caught up. And I'll chat with you soon!

Gay Card Punch Stock

Okay, thinking some more...

None of the items on the card would necessarily be requirements.

But a certain percentage of punches on the card would signify gaydom.

Divide the card into quadrants: Movies/Shows, Creativity and ?? ??

List the top ten movies/shows all gay men MUST see and quote lines or songs.

The top ten abilities the man must possess
Sewing
Cooking
Figure Skating
Hairstyling
Aesthetician

What about taboos? You, know, for the flip side of the card.

If you do these things, you could lose your card.
Socks with sandals.
Dark socks with shorts.



This is too hard.

How to wash a cat - easy step-by-step video.

"How to wash a cat."

Gay Card Requirements

Sunday night four guys and two girls (three gay, three not) gathered 'round the television set to watch the 79th Oscars, make our predictions and play Oscar Bingo.

"I can't believe no one has said 'Who are you wearing?' yet."
"Come on, just thank your 'amazing wife' and I've got Bingo."
"If someone trips, I've got two Bingos."

"BINGO! He screwed up reading the teleprompter!"

So anyhoo, Lady Prisspott was commenting on all the notched lapels and ill-fitting this and that. When looking at all the long gowns and the care the women are taking to keep people from stepping on their trains, Lady Prisspott said "I know how they feel."

To which I truthfully replied, "Me too."

It occurred to us both, that this could be something that belongs on the gay card.

According to the Urban Dictionary A Gay Card is a mythical figurative membership credential carried by gay men to commemorate the innate knowledge, ability, or sensibility with regard to any subject matter traditionally and generally considered to be the purview of gay men, such as show tunes, color coordination, fashion, hairstyling, interior decoration, or knowing whether any particular man in the vicinity is gay without requiring him to present his gay card.

A Gay Card can also be stamped or punched when a man (usually straight) performs a stereotypical gay action such as interior decorating, color coordinating, etc. At a certain point the card is filled and the person is deemed gay.


So, help me out here. Aside from the obvious sexual events, what ARE the requirements for a gay card? What categories / events / talents / abilities do you think should be listed and punchable?

Hmmm. Let's get you started.

Talents:
Floral Arrangement
Color Coordination
Interior Decorating

Have seen and can quote lines from these movies:
Valley of the Dolls
Mommy, Dearest
The Women

What aspects of fashion are required?
What show tunes must be in the repertoir?

Send them in ! The most appropriate will be chosen and incorporated into the 2007 Gay Card.

Too Stupid to be True

Our local paper, The Journal (Serving the Eastern Counties of West Virginia Since 1907), has a feature on page A6 called the Journal Junction. It's where people call or write in their short comments, complaining or praising whatever has recently soured their milk or sweetened their pot. (In the old days, one would just blame it on the local witch, but in today's enlightened society, you send your 'bitch' to The Journal.)

I came across this gem last Friday. I absolutely cannot believe this was a sincere newspaper entry--someone HAD to be playing stupid when they submitted this entry....

Apparently it's in response to another person's post regarding the outdated practice of daylight savings.

"From Hedgesville:"
To the Inwood caller complaining about the change in March to Daylight Savings Time. Don't you realize that the flowers need all the sun they can get in the spring? Any grade school child knows this.


I love it.


Oh oh oh! THIS JUST IN . . .

In Monday's Journal Junction....

"From Martinsburg:"

To the caller from Hedgesville about changing to daylight savings time in March. It has nothing to do with more sunglight for flowers to grow. The amount of sunlight is still the same. The difference is there will be more daylight in the evening.

New Jersey beats 47 other states in the race to enlightenment!

Teaneck, New Jersey
(AP)

State Officially Recognizes Civil Unions of Gay Couples
Hundreds of gay couples were granted the same legal rights as married couples Monday as New Jersey became the third U.S. state to offer civil unions. More than a dozen other couples applied for licenses for ceremonies later in the week. The civil unions were granted automatically to the hundreds of gay New Jersey coupls who had previously been joined in civil unions or married in other states or nations. (AP)

Terrorist Cell Phones

I just got off the phone with Cingular (Now AT&T).

Months ago, I sent them e-mailed inquiries about sweet deals on new phones (with all the bells and whistles).

I asked them, where are all the huge discounts for loyal customers? The sent me a response about when I was available for an upgrade.

I told them - I don't want to sign a new contract. I want a cool new phone at the outrageously low LOW price!

They sent me information on when I was available for an upgrade.

I wrote back "Don't tell me about your upgrade thingy. Tell me about fantastic discounts for loyal, already Cingular customers."

So they didn't write back.

Okay, so now my contract is up in just a few short months, and I called Cingular and explained their logic to them.

If the only way to get a cooooooool phone that plays music and videos and does the dishes and walks the dog is to sign a new 2 year contract, what's to keep me WITH Cingular?

All the phone companies offer that. If I can't get a brand spankin' new phone without a 2 year contract, I'm going to shop around.

"Well" they say "we can offer you this one time discount bringing the phone down to [something] dollars with a 2 year contract."

"I DON'T WANT A CONTRACT!"

They just kept pushing the contract.

I told them I'm going to shop around because there's no real incentive for me to stay.

Yes, I'll admit it. I want something for nothing. It's that simple.

Consolidating my E-xistance

I've been feeling fragmented lately. Kind of spread thin and in more places at once than I ought to be.

"SIMPLIFY !" Should be my mantra, but I find it hard to self-enforce.

SO, trying to simplify - I'm migrating all my Web existance to this one place.

(LOOK UP AND TO THE RIGHT!)

That means - my pagan notes, my letterboxing, my stage reviews, and the like, should all be linkable from this very spot.

I'm thinking, it's cleaner, it's streamlined, and I can give out one url and let folks navigate on their own.

I have one log in to remember and one template to work from.

SIMPLIFY !

Strip Club Epiphanies I

After a work day of the usual length (leave the house at 6:15 a.m. and get home at 7 p.m.) I flopped down on the couch in zombie state until it was time to get ready to go out.

What DOES one wear to a strip club? I assumed that one would want to look nice. So I showered and took the time to tame my hair and scrape a razor across my cheeks. Clean, stylish jeans, black button-up shirt and black boots.

I stopped to kiss the hubby and promise I wouldn't be at the strip club too long - he didn't seem worried in the least. Along the way, I stopped at 7-Eleven for a small coffee to keep me awake, then drove - almost directly to the strip joint. (Only one wrong turn!)

I finished off the coffee in the parking lot and joined a gaggle of oglers at the door. The gaggle looked like they were on a family outting to the strip club. Two, older parent types with their drinking age children on a lark. (That's why I was there, anyway.)

I paid my $10 at the door and walked in to a surprisingly nice, almost elegant atmosphere. Tasteful lighting everywhere provided just enough glow to make all the ladies passably attractive.

Imagined conversation between regular patrons.
RALPH: Evenin', Sam.
SAM: Evenin', Ralph. Wow, it's kinda dark in here tonight.
RALPH: Yeh, Susan's working.
SAM: Ah, riiiiiight.

There are stages on the left and directly in front of me that are equipped with floor to ceiling poles that are getting a LOT of attention from women who are wearing only high-heeled shoes. So, of course, I made an immediate right to the bar. I found a spot at the end and ordered a beer and turned the stool to observe the scenery.

First thing I notice is the guys sitting at the bar watching "the game." I don't remember what sport was on, because I was too busy thinking that they just paid a cover charge to come watch "the game" at a strip club. I guess that gives a whole new meaning to 'boob tube.'

Interupted by a deeply thought out, insightful theory here -
If you're at a strip club, watching television and it's not "the game" - you're gay.

While looking around some more, a certain women stopped in profile, directly in front of me, quite close and blocking my line of sight. I leaned left, then right, to see around her, and she moved on. I thought nothing of it, until it happened the third time.

I mean, she's standing really close, making it impossible to look at anything but her, forcing me - an avid reader - to ponder what Ramone did to earn a permanant signature upon her hilly valley (not to be confused with her mountainous peaks - I didn't read those chapters). So, as I pondered the depth of her character plot, it occurred to me

- this scantily clad woman is invading my personal space -- a lot.
This was immediately followed by another thought -
"Idiot. She's working and you're treating her like an obstructed-view seat at the opera."
Well, no sooner did I have that epiphany, then I guess she realized I was blind or gay and deleted me from her paper route.

More to come.

Just a Small Tease

I heard about it on the train . . .
Midget dancers at the strip club.

As soon as I heard it, my mind just boggled. At first, I couldn't think in complete thoughts.
"Wha.... "You mean.... "It can't just...."

Then my first complete thought, "I MUST GO!"

You must know by now that a strip club is not my cup of tea. Especially one that caters to straight men. Anyhoo, I wasn't going to go for the boobies or the wahoos.

Need reasons to go?

Reason 1) I've never been to a 'gentlemen's club.' I'm all for experiential living. There are some opportunities one should just not let pass by. If you get the chance,

• Sky dive
• Bungee jump
• Ride the elephant
• Go to a strip club to see diminutive dancers

Reason 2) Cocktail party conversation, which can be delivered in oh, so many ways.

• Taunting - "Guess what I did last Friday."
• Dropping smart bombs - "Oh yes, they have that kind of pool table at the strip club and . . ." "Wait, what were you doing at a strip club?"
• Blurting out - "OH MY GAWD ! I JUST SAW . . ."

So now you know what I did last Friday, but you don't have an account of the evening. This is just a small teaser of an evening that is still burned into my mind's eye.

Be patient, my pretties, I will write about it soon.

Impulse Not Buying

I wrote in an earlier post that we paid off a credit card bill and a college loan rather than buying Solstice presents for each other at home.

Well, ... Retailers report disappointing December sales
NEW YORK (AP) - An already disappointing holiday shopping season turned out to be even worse than expected for many of the nation's retailers, who Thursday reported tepid sales gains for December.

Speaking of not buying presents . . . If you are committed to reducing your debt and simplifying your life, I found The Compact quite interesting. (Though maybe too extreme for me.)

Here's the blurb from their Yahoo Group.

Welcome to The Compact.
We are a group of individuals committed to a 12-month flight from the consumer grid (calendar year 2007).

The Compact has several aims (more or less prioritized below):

• To go beyond recycling in trying to counteract the negative global environmental and socioeconomic impacts of disposable consumer culture and to support local businesses, farms, etc. -- a step that, we hope, inherits the revolutionary impulse of the Mayflower Compact.
• To reduce clutter and waste in our homes (as in trash Compact-er).
• To simplify our lives (as in Calm-pact)

We've agreed to follow two principles (see exceptions etc. on our blog).

#1 Don't buy new products of any kind (from stores, web sites, etc.)

#2 Borrow, barter, or buy used.

And this from another source:

New members, who sign up on the group's Yahoo Web site, include seniors on fixed incomes, farmers in Alabama and self-proclaimed shopaholics who say they have a problem and need help. (Read the full article in the San Francisco Chronicle .)

And this from Wikipedia

Retail pricing
The pricing technique used by most retailers is cost-plus pricing. This involves adding a markup amount (or percentage) to the retailers cost.

So, think about what your throwing your money away on and to whom you are throwing it. Are you getting your money's worth? Where is your paycheck going?

Will not buying anything new for a year hurt the economy? Doubtful.

There will always be a demand for things that are new, because things wear out.

There will always be an abundance of folks who MUST HAVE that purse to match their shoes - ALL OF THEIR SHOES.

However, if retailers price what the market will bear, (how much you're willing to spend for an item) we can send a message (even though it may fall on deaf ears) that their pricing is becoming unbearable.

It's a thought.

Turn Your Head and Cough

Anticipating the need for a graphic for an upcoming blog entry, and searching Google images with the word 'midget' - I came across (or rather, found) this photo, at www.history.navy.mil which just begs for a witty caption.

Any suggestions?

Hypocrite Alert

7 Va. Episcopal Parishes Vote to Sever Ties
By Bill Turque and Michelle Boorstein, Washington Post Staff Writers
Monday, December 18, 2006

Excerpts from The Washington Post article:

At least seven Virginia Episcopal parishes, opposed to the consecration of a gay bishop and the blessing of same-sex unions, have voted overwhelmingly to break from the U.S. church in a dramatic demonstration of widening rifts within the denomination.

The defections are likely to continue. Two other small Northern Virginia churches, Our Saviour Episcopal in Oatlands and Church of the Epiphany in Herndon, are expected to vote on separation early next year.

Conservative congregations have left the church in the past, including in the 1970s, when ordinations of women began, and a number have done so since Robinson's election.

Click here for the full article.

Okay, okay, okay, I KNOW I'm going to be pissing off some Episcopals, but I don't know any so that's fine. (Just as some of you don't know any homosexuals.)

A "shaken" Katrina Wagner is quoted in the above article as saying "the issue is: Are we going to follow Scripture?"

Which scripture, Katrina?

"As in all the congregations of the saints, women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the Law says. If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home; for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church." 1 Corinthians 14.

You, Katrina, remain a quiet member of the church as they ordain women (which assumes that after ordination they are allowed to preach in church rather than remain silent), but wave a battle flag when they consecrate a gay bishop? Come on.

Hire Me!

Charles Walker
Martinsburg, West Virginia

walker.chuck@gmail.com

Objective
A position that allows for my organizational skills and creativity in a positive environment in the Martinsburg, W.V. area.

Work Experience

Project Manager
9/1997 - Present Graduate School, USDA, Washington, D.C.
Primary editor and coordinator for all print marketing (catalogs, brochures, postcards, etc.) for the Graduate School, USDA. Discuss requirements for design of marketing materials with customers, identifying key information and offer guidance and direction based on an assessment of product specifications and customer needs. Schedule projects and manages internal staff to assure that customer’s project requirements are communicated and met. Determine need for outsourcing and takes appropriate steps to assure projects are kept on schedule. Act as manager and liaison between graphic designer, client, proofreader for all marketing materials. Develop and communicate project schedules and budgets (with cost estimates). Adjust to reflect customer feedback and staff input. Share weekly projects status reports with Communications Office and Business Development staff. Develop marketing proposals and options for enterprise wide and individual unit participation. Research alternatives, assess cost implications and determine if and how the effort can be tracked.

Member
1/1995 - Present Federal City Performing Arts Association, Washington, D.C.
A member of the Federal City Performing Arts for over a decade, bringing organizational skills and performance talent to numerous productions, serving as property master, stage and set design and construction, costume design and construction, master of ceremonies, vocal and instrumental performance, assistant stage director, choreographer and stagehand. Also performed on the stages of such places as Carnegie Hall and The Kennedy Center, for presidents and royalty.

Designer
4/1996 - 9/1997 Florist's Workshop, Bethesda, Maryland
In addition to floral design, responsibilities included company reorganization and planning to raise profits and lower overhead, creating forms for daily sales records, calculating yearly income from various categories of sales and monthly percentages of those sales, creating a system to make wired orders more profitable, company tax preparation, and customer service. My experience at the Florist's Workshop gave me the skill and confidence to later organize and prepare the flowers for two weddings, which included bridal bouquets, boutonnières, corsages, pew clips, centerpieces and large sprays.

Auditor
3/1994 - 3/1996 Belvedere Motor Inn/Days Inn, Lexington Park, Maryland
Maintained computer records of daily accounts and yearly running totals for 250-room hotel, daily cash deposits, electronic credit deposits and reports, customer service, telephone operator, and reservations while attending college full-time.

Customer Service/Night Stock
6/1992 - 6/1993 Wal-Mart, Toccoa, Georgia
Performed register sales, customer service, maintenance and stock of modular items, and kept three departments organized while attending college full-time.

Customer Service
10/1990 - 5/1991 Baltimore Aircoil Company, Laurel, Maryland
Responsible for production of various standard business letters, maintained sales files for national sales representatives, maintained monthly and yearly sales numbers for Maryland, California, and Canada plants, and performed as customer service liaison.

Cryptologic Technician Interpretive
9/1985 - 10/1990 U.S. NAVY, United States and Korea, Maryland
Korean Translator

Education
Pursuing information to complete English and Education degree at Shepherd University, Shepherdstown, West Virginia

1994 - 1996 St. Mary's College of Maryland, St. Mary's, Maryland
Major in English and Education.
1991 - 1993 Toccoa Falls College, Toccoa, Georgia
Major: Performing Arts

Skills
Ÿ Adobe Acrobat

Ÿ Adobe Photoshop

Ÿ Hypertext Markup Language (HTML)

Ÿ Lotus Notes

Ÿ Microsoft Access

Ÿ Microsoft Excel

Ÿ Microsoft Project Manager

Ÿ Microsoft Word

Ÿ Microsoft PowerPoint

Ÿ WordPerfect

Ÿ American Sign Language


References available upon request.

Against the Spirit of the Season / What's in Your Wallet?

My husband and I gave each other our Solstice presents early this year.

I was 'doing math' last Sunday. In our household, 'doing math' means adding up the bills that are due, the minimum payments, the monthly payments, looking at what we have coming in, what absolutely must go out right away, and finally, our total debt amount.

After the situation was thoroughly assessed, I turned to Mike and told him the news.

We had a choice to make. After we pay everything that's due, we have enough left over to buy each other presents, or pay off a credit card bill completely.

Against the spirit of the season, we chose to pay off the credit card. I called the company and asked for a total payoff amount and made it happen over the phone. Then I wrote "PAID IN FULL" on the remittance slip and put it under the Yule tree.

Since then, we smile and make happy reference to it. "We paid off a credit card bill. Happy Solstice, Honey." And when we watch television and see all the 'must-have-hot-items-for-Christmas' commercials, we just smile to ourselves or at each other and sit content that we got what we really wanted for the holidays -- a little bit closer to our dream of being debt free.

Baptist Witch Hunts / Catholic Closets / Anti-Lesby Presbys and Lunatic Ravings

Roman Catholics say Stay in the Closet!

The nation's Roman Catholic bishops, meeting in Baltimore, declared [recently] that Catholics who minister to gays must firmly adhere to the church's teaching that same-sex attractions are "disordered." Catholics with "a homosexual inclination" should be encouraged to live in chastity and discouraged from making "general public announcements" about their sexual orientation, the bishops said. (Herald Sun)

Baptists Begin Witch Hunts

The Baptist State Convention of North Carolina voted [recently] to cut ties with congregations that affirm or approve of homosexuality, formally adopting a rigid anti-gay policy that allows the group to investigate whether member churches are gay friendly. (Washington Post)

Presbyterian's Kangaroo Court

And recently in Pittsburgh, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), a mainline Protestant denomination with about 3 million members, put a minister on trial for conducting a marriage ceremony for two women. (Herald Sun)


Here's a little test. Who is not going to hell? (A trick question.)


A) The new mother attending a church social dinner (shrimp and steak tar tar!) in the church sanctuary with her husband and month old daughter. The mother is sporting a mohawk, and a neck tattoo is just visible above the rabbit fur trimmed patchwork sweater that goes quite well with the artfully faded men's Levi's.

B) The kindly, hunched over, nearsighted virgin priest/pastor.

C) The slaveowner

D) All or None of the above

I do not cotton to or subscribe to the Christian religion, so why does it bug the heck out of me when one of them believes that I and others like me are going to a hell of their making?

Their afterlife punishment for transgressions against their law should not bother me in the slightest.

I know, it shouldn't matter to me what they think. Yet still, I know that in their heart of hearts those people have judged me against their biblical standard and found me unrepentant and wanting. They may be nice, talk to me, even visit and offer presents, but in the back of their mind they're thinking, "You're going to hell." I doubt that many are pleased with that idea within themselves, but there it is.

They have judged and yet refuse to acknowledge judgement by the same measure. As they point out failure to adhere to Levitical strictures of the Old Testament, they themselves fail to abide by all the obsolete guidelines found in the same book. All or nothing people. You can't pick and choose.

This is not a discussion of old covenent vs. new covenent or the arbitrary distinction of moral/civil/ceremonial law. This is selective enforcement.

Just browsing Leviticus you'll find you can't eat rabbit or pork, or even touch the dead rabbit's fur or pig's skin. You can't eat lobster, shrimp or crab. Women can't wear men's clothes. Men can't wear women's clothes. You can't wear clothes woven of two different materials. You can't eat fat or rare steak. You can't go to church for a month if you gave birth to a boy -- two months if it's a girl. Slavery is fine. Priests can't have any defects, not even poor eyesight. Of course one must observe all the feasts, some sans yeast. Oh, and no tattoos or mohawks.


I recently sent a USA Today link to someone about religion and homosexuality. I said it was a great article. She said "I'm sure it is 'great' from your perspective. Please drop the subject." (I picture covered ears and a loud "LA LA LA LA LA LA.") Purposeful ignorance! They won't think logically or absorb any facts that are contrary to their application of biblical law. (The earth goes 'round the sun. HERETIC! ) They will not continue the discussion through to logical ends. They often close their ears or talk over you. Or get to the point where they "drop the subject," "agree to disagree,""hate the sin, love the sinner," or chalk it up to blind faith. (Translation, "No one can prove any of it, but we can still be friends until you go to hell.")

This invasive bigotry changes YOUR quality of life. If YOU don't speak up, and get justifiably angered, it will invade YOUR HOME even more than it does now. I can't get my marriage acknowledged in my state - because of religion. That may not effect you. Can you buy alcohol on Sundays? I can't buy alcohol in my county (at least it's not a dry county) until after 1 p.m. on Sundays. Why? I'm guessing because of an outdated religious-based statute. What other religion-based laws effect you?

As an opiate for the masses, or a coping mechanism - I think religion is fine. More in the way of philosophy and guidelines. (Be kind to others and all things in moderation, you know.) Religion and prayer in most usage is simply verbalized hope and a displacement of worry or anxiety--a tool, used to help people not to obsess about something over which they have no control. It is my opinion, that if they need to personify an energy or create a deity to which they hand these control issues, let them. It's got to be less stressful for them.

I understand but do not feel the need to personify or create a deity to explain anything, to justify my existance or to give me an ultimate goal or destination.


http://www.heraldsun.com/state/6-788517.html
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/11/14/AR2006111401337.html

When Religion Loses its Credibility

How Many Shopping Days 'til Solstice?

Okay, it has officially begun. I've started getting the cutesy e-mails from friends and relatives who push the Christ in Christmas. The same ones who send me the e-hugs and e-Jesus and e-prayers. (Egads.)

So, I've compiled the information below from various Internet pages and saved it so I could hit 'reply all' and push back.

It is not a CHRISTmas tree. It is a Yule tree. Say it with me, YULE tree. Get it right.

The Christmas tree is often explained as a christianization of the ancient pagan idea that the evergreen tree represents a celebration of the renewal of life. The exact origin of the Christmas tree seems under debate, but it is safe to say that this symbol evolved from Pagan tradition.

The Norse pagans and Celtic Druids revered evergreens as manifestations of deity because they did not "die" from year to year but stayed green and alive when other plants appeared dead and bare. The trees represented everlasting life and hope for the return of spring.

The first Christian use of the Christmas tree symbol is credited to 16th century when devout Christians also brought decorated trees into their homes. German born Prince Albert, husband of Queen Victoria, is credited with starting the trend in England in 1841 when he brought the first Christmas Tree to Windsor Castle.

Yule falls approximately on the Winter Solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the year. After Yule the period of daylight begins to wax, until it reaches the longest day on June 21, the Summer Solstice. For folks in Northern climes, the Winter Solstice was a most welcome day to anticipate at the dark end of the year, and although months of darkness lay ahead, folk could rest assured Sunna's might was on the increase and darkness was waning.

Yule is actually a span of thirteen days, usually counted from the night before the solstice (19 or 20 December, as it varies from year to year ), to the thirteenth night, (usually January 6 called "Twelfth Night" later by Christians). Bede called Yule eve "Mother Night", and it is thought this night was devoted to honouring the Idises (or Disir, female ancestral spirits) the family protectors. The Solstice itself, either 20, 21 or 22 December, is the most important of the days, when the dead and other beings of the dark fare most freely, Winter arrives, and humans are closest to the spirit worlds.

The druids decorated their trees with symbols of prosperity -- a fruitful harvest, coins for wealth and various charms such as those for love or fertility. Scandinavian Pagans are thought to be the first to bring their decorated trees indoors as this provided a warm and welcoming environment for the native fairy folk and tree elementals to join in the festivities. The Saxons, a Germanic pagan tribe, were the first to place lights on the their trees in the form of candles. Ancient Romans decorated their homes with greens at the Festival of Saturnalia, their New Year and exchanged evergreen branches with friends as a sign of good luck.

No matter what you choose to celebrate, a birthday or the increase of daylight, fertility or the miracle of light, Yuletide is a time of peace, renewal, thanksgiving and remembrance. Be sure to tell your family, friends, and friends who are family how much they mean to you.

Tea with the Hedge Sisters - Chapter 2

"Woo hoooo!" Called Magnolia, sweeping into the house, arms laden with an eclectic bundle of items; a flower pot with what used to be a mum plant in it, a tray of her signature horrendous biscuits, two lengths of brightly colored fabric, a glass jar of crushed mica flakes and a cigarette case. "I brought prehhhhhzzzzents!"

Ivy, and well, truthfully anyone, could always hear Magnolia's arrival in whichever part of the house she happened to be. Though the house wasn't the size of Versailles, it wouldn't have mattered. Magnolia had a way of making her presence unmistakably known in any establishment--like a lorry through the brick wall of a busy cafe.

"Boo," shouted Magnolia over her shoulder through the still open door, "Please be sure to bring my purse when you come in."

Bougainvillea could be seen through the parlor window taking her time to admire and wander among the plants in the small front yard.

"For what on earth will she need her purse?" Bougainvillea said to the roses, then turned back toward the motorcar just as Hydrangea's stylish auto careened into the driveway.

Hydrangea's fender delicately brushed by Bougainvillea's hemline at an alarming speed before narrowly missing the birdbath and, less delicately, pounding the well-established oak tree with a sudden and quite solid thud.

"Boo! You won't believe what I found at the market this morning!" Hydrangea chattered obliviously as she stepped from the car, straightened her hat and reached into the back of the car to pull out and triumphantly present in her best imitation of a magazine model, a pair of shiny red riding boots.

Bougainvillea stood wide-eyed and motionless, two inches from the swath of tire tracks through the pansies, silent, but for the sound of her short, rapid breaths. One white-knuckled hand clutched her pearls in a death grip, and the other hand pressed at her femininity to prevent an untimely and embarrassing release.

"I know!" Hydrangea squealed," I was speechless too! I could barely take my eyes off them as I drove over. Be a dear and help me with these bags, won't you?"

By this time, Magnolia and Ivy had appeared at the front and kitchen doors, having heard the unfamiliar 'whump' of car on tree. "What on earth is going on?!" Cried Ivy, rushing to the scene. "Hyde, why are you parked in the yard? Where is your driver? And...MY PANSIES!"

"Oh I had to let him go." Hydrangea explained, pointedly ignoring the condition of the pansies "I suspected he was stealing. But who needs him anyway? I tell you, it's very liberating. I just enjoyed a wonderfully spontaneous trip through the market, and I drove all the way myself!

"Through the market?" Said Magnolia with a raised eyebrow, "That would explain the fresh fruit pulp on the grill."

"Well, they made those streets too narrow." Hydrangea dismissed defensively, pulling bag after bag out of the car. "And that fruit vendor practically robs you with those prices anyway. I did the village a service. Oh and, Ivy," she said, passing by, into the house and out of earshot, "you should think about moving that tree. It's was right in the way! I really think th . . . ."

"She . . . she . . ." Stuttered Bougainvillea, "she's driving? No. . . No, this can't happen. No, no, no, no, no." She shook her head, looking at her two sisters with a confused plea, "We have to DO something!" She then marched resolutely for the handle of a nearby garden hoe, raised it high over her head and made for Hydrangea's car.

Ivy and Magnolia immediately moved to intercept. Magnolia, taller, liberated the hoe while Ivy caught Bougainvillea by the shoulders. "It's all right, dear." Ivy crooned, "Yes, we'll take care of it." she continued in a soothing voice to a protesting Bougainvillea who allowed herself to be turned toward the kitchen entrance. "You're absolutely right. We'll talk about it over tea. Won't you help me in the kitchen?"

Ivy's calming words and voice did not extend to her eyes as she shot a frantic 'what-the-hell-are-we-going-to-do?' look over Bougainvillea's head at Magnolia. Magnolia shot back her own eyebrowed shrug, replaced the hoe and followed after Hydrangea.

You're Not Paranoid - You ARE Being Watched

You have much more of an impact on the world

than you think you do.

and

You are never as important as you think you are.

Do you ever catch yourself watching someone -- be it a stranger or someone you know -- and thinking about their actions, their words, their motivations?

What do you think about the person who constantly interupts conversations? Why do you think this person let you cut in line? How did that lady who callously smacked you with her carry on luggage influence your morning? Why on earth is that blue SUV honking their horn? Didn't it make you feel good when that person offered their seat?

Are these people aware that you are watching and thinking about their actions?

Now turn it around. What do you do? How do you carry yourself? What is it that you do that makes friends and strangers take note? What kind of an influence do you have on the people around you?

I'm often amazed at times and wonder about the motivations of the people with a 'me first' and 'better than you' attitude. I find myself making up excuses for the rude rush of other drivers. Of course, it doesn't get me anywhere faster or make my ride sweeter if I become angry with them. And it makes me smile when I sit behind them at a light after they just cut, swerved and zoomed by about a mile before.

I make room for the pedestrian hogs who walk three people abreast through the crowded corridors of malls and mass transit terminals. I like to think I'm being considerate when I alter my route for people to pass. But, flip the coin and I find myself grumbling "Why should I be the one to make room? What makes them so important? Next time I'm going to stay my course. Someone needs to teach them consideration of others." But when next time comes, I instinctually make room.

I saw a woman purposely stomp on the heel of another traveler as they walked through a crowded terminal - then blame her actions on the person she stomped on. The other traveler graciously shook it off, accepted the blame, apologized and moved on.

I was right behind them and witnessed the whole nasty thing. I went up to the traveler and told her that she was very kind and carried herself well -- that I was impressed.

Anyhoo, the point is this, you are watching people and people are watching you. I don't mean people are stalking and peeping. I mean that anywhere you go in public, your actions are being silently scrutinized by complete strangers as well as by acquaintances and close friends. They see you smoke, litter, drink, fart and belch. But they also see your random acts of kindness, alms to the poor, thoughtful compliments and gentility.

Your watchers may make comment or they may not. And the strangers may just file it away. If they ever see you again, or you ever pop into their memory, you'll be (good or bad) 'the person who ____ that time at the ____.'

Why am I writing this?

I have recently discovered an online description of me. I had no idea that this person gave me or my actions much beyond a friendly but passing thought. But there I am plain as day in the eyes of another.

Wow.

I mean, I already had this philosophy, (I even have the tattoo to prove it) but sometimes it really smacks you. The single line of your life, short or long, wide-reaching or narrow, weaves in, around and through everyone else's lives with whom you come in contact, making them weave in, around and through as well.

How does your zig make them zag?

Martinsburg Journal - Letter to the Editor

This letter to the Editor was printed a couple weeks ago in the Martinsburg, W.V. Journal Newspaper.

Put yourself in my shoes.

If your husband or wife were gravely injured, you could not visit them in the hospital without their family's permission. You would have no part in the decisions of emergency medical treatment. If they died, you would have no legal stance regarding burial or estate.
In these traumatic moments of your life – when they need you the most – you would be separated from your loved one.

The privileges of marriage are extended to people like Britney Spears who was married for 55 hours and to Mickey Rooney who was married eight times.

Why does West Virginia deny my family even the most basic rights and privileges of marriage? Whose idea of the 'sanctity' of marriage includes a two-night stand and serial divorces, but excludes a relationship of years of love and commitment?

No logical argument can be made against same-sex marriages. Childless couples enjoy the benefits of marriage and single people procreate all the time so one can't argue that children are the purpose of marriage. If one argues using religion, by whose religion are we creating law? Observe the natural habits of the animal kingdom before arguing same-sex marriages are unnatural. The tradition of marriage is made by man, and can be changed.

We live here. We work and pay taxes. We vote and deliver your mail. We sit next to you in church and on the train. We're your neighbors and family. Give us equality, West Virginia.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Byrd

Mr. Robert C. Byrd

In response to my letter, in which (if memory serves) I inquired as to why you are against same-sex marriages, your office sent to me Volume 150, Number 97 of the Congressional Record dated more than two years ago, July 14, 2004, with page S8084 tabbed—which referenced your vote against Senate Joint Resolution 40, a joint resolution proposing an amendment to the Constitution of the United States relating to marriage.

Although I am pleased to have received a tailored response, I am extremely disappointed with the content and can only surmise that the response from your office was intended placate and befuddle a reader of lesser education or skill. How little your office must think of the average West Virginian.

In a June 7, 2006 statement (Ref. 1) that followed the procedural vote on the Constitutional amendment on gay marriage, you clearly state that you strongly oppose same-sex marriages. The only support you offer for that stance is your personal religious conviction, misquoting the Bible and using such words and references as; holy, Bible, Good Book, sacred and God-fearing.

Your religious zealotry is denying my family what the United States General Accounting Office has identified as a “total of 1,138 federal statutory provisions classified to the United States Code in which marital status is a factor in determining or receiving benefits, rights, and privileges.” (Ref. 2)

You do not accurately represent me.

Charles E. Walker
Martinsburg, W.V.

Ref. 1
http://byrd.senate.gov/newsroom/news_june/marriage_amdt.html
Ref. 2
GAO-04-353R Defense of Marriage Act - Update to Prior Report

Walking East into Autumn

The other morning I walked the few blocks from my home to the train station. It was just about six and the first Monday of Autumn. The sun, not yet risen, was tinting the dark morning sky with patches of deep blue behind silhouettes of cloud.

Autumn is furthest away from my favorite season, and the smell of 'back to school' in the air always used to pull me into an emotional funk. Inexplicably, I would be overcome with the blahs. An apathetic, everything-is-dying, there is no future, why-am-I-here sort of existence.

Fortunately, years ago, I recognized that funk and began to question and think about it rather than wallow in it.

"Okay, I feel yucky.
Why do I feel yucky?
Is there any good reason to feel this way?
Yes? What can I do about it? Something? Okay I will.
No? Nothing? Okay, then I'll suck it up and ride it out."

Add to the blahs the ravages of time. Here I am at 40, (pleasantly surprised I made it past 30), walking through the dark, deserted, leave-ridden, Autumn streets, thinking these sort of thoughts, "I hate Autumn. My arm hurts. It smells like 'back to school' and it's getting cold. I'm old. I leave home in the dark and come home in the dark. . . . .

. . . Stop it, Chuck! It's just a season. Adapt yourself to nature. You need to change with the season. Become attuned. Your future awaits."

As I chose to think and not wallow, I noticed the striking blue in the sky, and thought of the promise of morning and a new and potential-filled day and the days that lay beyond. I remembered that, although I'm entering Autumn myself, I'm still learning and experiencing new things.

I had just learned to knit and started a rectangle the night before. It's symbolic, I thought then, of new beginnings. Here I am, an aging dog, learning new tricks. (I learned to purl today.)

Yes, it's the end of the bright growing seasons of light and the beginning of long patches of darkness, cold and damp. It's a new moon too. (New beginnings!) It's a season to try my acting ability in a non-musical, courtroom drama. I know I can sing, but can my acting carry me too? Let's find out. I will be assisting in a friend's art opening this weekend, I'll be painting my house, going to a show or two, drinking and playing cards with friends.

What is so freakin' bad about Autumn?

I tell you, it can be freakin' great. The key is to consciously make it freakin' great. If you are like me, I know I'm not alone, and this season sucks you down - just wrap your mind around it. Turn depression or apathy into introspection and self-knowledge.

The first day of Autumn is Mabon, the second harvest. Use Autumn to reap your abundant harvest (tangible and intangible) and think about your next garden.

How are you?
Where are you?
How's your family?
How are your friends?
Where have you been?
What's important to you?
Where do you want to go?

What would you like to do?

To Governor Joe Manchin, III (West Virginia)

I just finished writing a note to my Senator asking why he opposes same-sex marriages and a note (below) to my Governor asking why I'm denied basic rights of marriage.

If I get anything beyond a form letter, I'll keep you updated.



My letter to the Governor of West Virginia.

A thoughtful, personal response would be appreciated.

I am a man, married to a man. We married in Massachusetts and later moved to West Virginia.

A recognized marriage provides state protection to married couples in many important ways, including allowing hospital visitation, the right to make medical emergency decisions and the right to inherit without a will.

Put simply, if my husband were gravely injured or died, I could not visit without his family's permission, have no participation in the decisions of his medical treatment and would have no legal stance regarding his burial or the fate of his estate.

What is your stance, Governor, on same-sex marriages and why does West Virginia deny my family even the most basic rights and privileges of marriage?


My note generated this automated response.

Thank you very much for contacting me by e-mail. As always, it's good to hear your concerns and comments.

Please also be sure to visit my web site at http://www.wvgov.org for information on some of the most important issues I am working on right now.

If you did not include a U.S. Postal mailing address in your e-mail, please re-send your original email message and include your address so that I may respond to you directly.

Thanks again for getting in touch, and I look forward to responding more fully to your e-mail in the future.

Sincerely,
Gov. Joe Manchin III

West Virginia State Capitol
1900 Kanawha Boulevard, E
Charleston, WV 25305
Toll-Free: 1-888-438-2731

. . . For I Have Sneezed . . .

I understand (kind of) the archaic practice of saying "Bless you" when someone sneezes.

If memory serves, it stems from plague-ridden times where if someone sneezed, obviously they had or were contracting the plague, so a quick "bless you" before they died would be quite welcome.

Nowadays, with modern medicine, plagues aren't as prevalent and diversity renders a "bless you" a throwaway phrase that's potentially offensive.

First of all, you don't mean it, but you feel compelled to say it. It's a socially expected, sort of habitual Tourette syndrome. If you truly WANT to express vocal concern for a sneezer's wellbeing, personalize it, and don't tack any sort of religious meaning to it -- Because, secondly, are you a priest - priestess - shaman - monk - warlock - friar - nun - witch - etc.? And do we attend the same rituals? Your unthinking blessing could be received as well as holy water to a wampyr - and that means you're crossing the line.

As I type this, my neighbor just sneezed! (How timely.) And I sit here thinking "I really should say something." "Must . . . acknowledge . . . sneeze."

Why do I feel this? It is purely only habit and tradition. But NO MORE! I'm going to break the pointless cycle and ignore the sneeze.

Now, when I sneeze, I'm sure I will experience a thoughtless blessing. What should I do?

Acchoo!
Bless you.
Yeh, whatever.

Acchoo !

Gesundheit !

WHAT?!

Acchoo!

God Bless.

Which god? Bless what?

Acchoo!
God bless you.
AAAAAGGHHH ! IT BURNS ! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE !? I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS !

Defending the Sanctity of Marriage.

First of all, can we just start with a track record of the sanctity of marriage?

Renee Zellweger - Kenny Chesney, 4 Months
Britney Spears - Jason Alexander, 55 Hours
Drew Barrymore - Jeremy Thomas, less than 3 Weeks
Drew Barrymore Tom Green, less than 1 Year
Lisa Marie Presley - Danny Keough, 6 Years
Lisa Marie Presley - Michael Jackson, 19 Months Lisa Marie Presley, Nicolas Cage, 107 Days
Zsa Zsa Gabor - Filipe de Alba, 1 Day
Micky Rooney married 8 times.

Now that same-sex marriages have been around for a couple years, I am hoping that the large number of idiots, who live in fear that the sanctity of marriage would be somehow threatened, can rest assured that the instution remains unblemished. Well, at least there aren't any new, unique bruises to the reputation of marriage. Like a tarnished silver tea service, however shiny underneath, black is black.

Less than seven months after Massachusetts began same-sex marriages, same-sex divorces began in Suffolk County, Mass.

The first couple to be married in Cambridge, Marcia Hams, 57, and Susan Shepherd are now facing an impending divorce just two years later.

A lesbian couple in Ontario, who separated after five days of marriage, faced problems getting what could have been Canada's first same-sex divorce because the law could be read to limit divorce to male-female couples.

So what's the problem? Why is there constantly a bill or proposal or some legal action before state and federal courts and panels that is designed to prevent, outlaw or annul same-sex marriages?

What logical argument can be made against these marriages?
Please, if you need a moment, I'll wait.

. . . .

Yeh, there's no real argument.

Religion? - By whose religion are we creating law?

Tradition? - Tradition is made, and is mutable. Tradition made women 2nd class and allowed the husbands to beat them. Helotry (look it up) was a tradition that reaches much further back than traditional marriage. Even today's 'traditional' marriage is only a few decades old because it was changed to recognize interracial couples.

You're not comfortable with it? - Fine, don't do it. Thongs on morbidly obese people give me the willies, but I'm not going to fight to prevent their right to wear them.

It's unnatural? - Please take some time to observe the sexual habits of bison, gazelles, antelope, sage grouse, Guinean cocks-of-the-rock, silver gulls, black headed gulls, Japanese macaques and bonobo chimpanzees. (Just as a starter.)

Marriage is for procreation? - Although it has been proven that unmarried individuals can produce offspring (and often do), someone tell the barren, sterile, infirm and geriatric they are forbidden to marry. Annul all pre-existing non-procreative marriages after a certain deadline, as well as those that continue to remain married after the last child has popped out.

It's not healthy for children? - Again, Oh, please. How can it be unhealthy for a child to be reared in the environment of a loving, committed relationship? If your answer is any of the above objections, then please reread them. If it's because of the absence of a father or mother figure, then please organize the release of children from all single parents.


Where do you stand on this? Have you given thought about why?

Tea with the Hedge Sisters, Chapter 1

"I have biscuits too . . . or, . . . " Magnolia cried over her shoulder as she laid out the tea time spread.

"I don't want any biscuits, Maggie." Declared Hydrangea, already enthroned in the exact center of the sofa with her perfect skirts, the latest fashion, of course, spread expertly from pillow to pillow, providing the most aesthetically pleasing display.

Catching Magnolia's pause, Hydrangea became uncommonly interested with the silverware, "My, these are nice, Maggie. Are they new?" Hoping to divert Magnolia from reciting a list of alternate items in the pantry available for tea.

"Why?" Stared Magnolia "Don't you like my biscuits?" She asked, with just the hint of a tremble in the voice, before moving to the sideboard for napkins.

"Just hush and take a biscuit Hyde." Bougainvillea whispered harshly through gritted teeth as she passed Hydrangea with the tea tray. "If you think Mag's biscuits are awful, try spending the rest of the afternoon listening to her go on about how you insulted her cooking."

Bougainvillea punctuated with her patented 'hush-up-and-keep-the-peace' look, which was met and acidly destroyed by Hydrangea's own patented triple combination high-octave-'hmph,'-overly-exaggerated-eye-roll-and-invisible-lint-pick.

Rounding out the foursome in what can only be deemed an unmannerly 'holler' from the next room, "Bou, there's no beer in the icebox!"

"Ivy, this is tea time." Replied Bougainvillea patiently.

Ivy popped her head through the doorway, "I'm not here for tea. I'm here to visit my deeear sisters. But if it'll make you happy," popping back out "just pour the beer in a tea cup and I'll drink with my pinky extended."

"Now there's something wrong with my tea?" Magnolia breathed, turning her disappointment from Hydrangea and the biscuits to Ivy and the clinks and thumps of items being shuffled in her search.

"Your tea is fine, I'm sure. It's just not beer." Said Ivy blithely as Magnolia joined her in the kitchen.

"Or coffee." Uttered Bougainvillea to the air.

"Barbarian. I'll never fully believe that Ivy comes from the same bloodline as we do. " Hydrangea said, leaning into her sister. "Haven't you noticed the resemblance between Ivy and the milkman?"

"Well, she does tan awfully nicely." Began Bougainvillea thoughtfully. "Do you think that mother . . ."

"Not that milkman. I suppose you would have been to young to remember Mr. MacGregor."

"Careful Hyde, that statement shows your age." Glared a triumphant beer-wielding Ivy from the doorway.

"So does direct sunlight." Added Magnolia, the eldest sister, nudging Ivy toward her usual place by the window as she passed and replaced Ivy's teacup with a glass. Pausing once to be sure everything was out, "Now," Magnolia seated herself with a 'whump,' "Would someone at least try the biscuits?!" and began to pour.

"I love your biscuits, dear!" Bougainvillea affirmed by reaching for the tongs and passing the heavy, flour and lard stones to the others with a stern 'you'll-eat-it-and-you'll-gush-loudly-about-how-scrumptious-they-are' look.

"But they clash with my outfit!" Sputtered Hydrangea, desperate to avoid more dental work.

"What doesn't?" Said Ivy, who dressed in men's clothes and clashed with pretty much everyone.
"Ivy, you hold your tongue." Hydrangea began, "I'll have you know that this is an orig-- . . ."

"What a grand idea!" interrupted Bougainvillea forcefully. "Why don't we all hold our tongues?"

So, as it inevitably happened every Saturday, the foursome sat quietly and stared at nothing in particular, especially not at each other and certainly not at the biscuits, sipping their tea -- and beer.

Kernal Knowledge

My friend, Cookie, would ask "What's the number one rule of show business?"
And I'd say "Sleep with the casting director?" knowing full well that Cookie's answer is "Know your product."

I do so love the tests that tell you all about yourself if you answer just a few questions. I take those personality/sanity tests all the time. (Mostly due to a court order, but that doesn't detract from the pleasure.)

My friends could've told you this without me taking the test. Which alcoholic drink am I? The test totally pegs me as beer.

You Are Beer!

You don't need to get totally wasted when you hit the bars. More of a social drinker, you just like to have fun with your friends. And as long as the beer keeps flowing, you're a happy camper. But don't mix things up: "Beer Before Liquor, Never Been Sicker!"

What Alcoholic Drink Are You?

Wow, that is SO true. My friends, my TRUE friends, fear repurcussions if they've invited me over and I find they have no beer. "What!? No beeeeeer?" (Picture the guy in Oliver. "You want mmmMMMMOOOOORE?!")

It's the same way in the morning with / without coffee.

One morning at a sleepover I awoke and stumbled through the house and into the kitchen, following the sweet gurgling sounds of the coffeemaker. [gurgle......gurgle.....sput....gurgle] "Ahh, yes I can almost taste it," I'm thinking as I pass two friends in the kitchen. They know better than to approach me at this point in the day. Don't make eye contact, don't smile, don't approach. But, THIS morning, the two (innocent?) bystanders were in a precarious catch-22. There was a SERIOUS bit of information that MUST be conveyed to the sleepy-eyed monster fumbling with a coffee cup before he reached the gurgling brew. [gurgle....gurgle] "I'm coming my preciousssssss." Cup in hand, I step forward and reach for the pitcher. [gurgle....ominous music....gurgle....minor chord....slow motion....guurrrrrgle.]

Cookie makes a life-altering decision and in dramatic slo-mo jumps in front of the proverbial bullet "CHUUUUCK ! IT'SSSS DE-CAAAFFFF !" Then crumples to the floor, fearing the worst.

You Are: 50% Dog, 50% Cat

You are a nice blend of cat and dog. You're playful but not too needy. And you're friendly but careful. And while you have your moody moments, you're too happy to stay upset for long.

Are You More Cat or Dog?

To pass the time with self-discovery I'll take pretty much any test and try very hard to answer the questions honestly, without trying to sway the outcomes. But some of the tests are pretty much geared toward the traditional if-you-answer-this-way-you-must-be-this-gender. I took one test (Which X-Man are You?) that asked which of the X-Men were sexier. I chose Wolverine so the test chose for me a female character. Grrrr. I don't want to be Storm! I could NEVER carry off those outfits. Even though this test says...

You Are 36% Lady

You tend to make up your rules of etiquette, throwing all conventions aside. And while you try to be a lady (sometimes), your behavior is often quite shocking.

Are You A Lady?

So no matter the absurdity of the test, I welcome the questions that provide a kernal of insight. Too often we the people act out of emotions rather than thinking a situation through and giving a real and practical response. I mean, what rational practical person votes republican? Meaning, most people vote for a political party rather than a qualified individual. "Oh, HE'S republican? Then I'll vote for him." Disregarding he's spent 12 years in prison for whatever. "Oh, SHE'S Catholic? Then I HAVE to vote for her." Disregarding that the only reason she's Catholic is because her family dragged her to that church on Christmas and Easter and she doesn't know any different. It's not like either one of these examples of people have knowledge or values.

Saying all that prompts me to say this: Be inquisitive as to your nature and make decisions based on thought. Be sure to truly appreciate your friends who tell it like it is. They will argue, disagree, fight and bicker. They will piss you off, be extremely obnoxious and take you to your very wits end. But keep that weekly date for dinner, hooch and cards. Those are some of the most insightful and valuable times you'll ever have.

Get to know yourself - visit this site www.blogthings.com/quizzes/