Went to bed at 10:30 p.m. Woke up at 2:00 a.m. I hope four hours a night is not going to become my norm. I'm a zombie all day. I'm a daybie all zomb. D'm a iayzie all bomb . . . budda puh da blang . . . zibluh?
I won $20 Thursday night at the annual Teacher's-Credit-Union-membership-meeting-and-cash-giveaway, got a free barbecue dinner also--that's what woke me at 2:00. Net profit for the evening: $25 in cash and food. Last year I won $50 or $100 dollars—can't remember which.
Also, I spent the meeting and dinner with a pretty blond lady. We were lunch buddies, a whole table of us always ate together, though the group has broken up a bit with schedule changes this year. One day last year I misunderstood a comment she made at lunch, concluded she was a divorced lady, and asked her out. She was gracious about declining and telling me she was married, but since then she has been particularly friendly. I don't think she is secretly interested in going out on her husband, rather she is flattered to have been asked out. I, in turn, am flattered that she apparently found my invitation flattering. *flash of image: butterflies flattering across a rainbowed sky* Guess we have gained mutual affirmation as a result of my misunderstanding and invitation. Anyway, she came into the auditorium, saw me sitting down front—I hoped to have shorter trip to the cash table during the drawing—and went out of her way to sit with me. She had been dropped off at the meeting, so I gave her a ride home.
It was nice to be with someone. I know, *sigh, glance at floor* I should have found someone to sit with, been all pro-active and positive, but sometimes I just don't muster. It's easier to gaze straight, avoid eyes and faces, purpose in and collapse alone; takes muster to brave the uncertainty of another's space.
So, after a delightful evening Wednesday *gaze, glaze, smiles*, an evening of validation from the friendly, but married, blond lady Thursday—plus free dinner and cash, and the total stranger *looks over shoulder, leans forward, placing back of hand to side of mouth—an aside—saying, All senses of "stranger" apply.* who has cold-called me at school *pause* twice *pause and blinks* introduced herself, and is suggesting—without asking directly—we "go for coffee" this weekend, I'm feeling less troll-like and reclusive—a good week. Now if sleep would only come.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Fifty-five, Single, Readheaded, and Rich
...so I am going home via Wal-Mart about 7:30 p.m. and Ellen calls. She wants to come over. I have three things to buy, so I tell her I will be home in twenty minutes. I go into the store and the little greeter/ pass-you-a-basket also is standing behind a cabinet of locked metal drawers that look like the place they lock up the cashiers’ drawers between shifts—she has new duties. It occurs to me that a kicker could back his truck up to the doors, lasso the cabinet, and drag off a box full of cash.
I notice that all of the cripple cars have plastic bags over the control boxes. I was in the store earlier in the week at the other door half-a-block away and all of the cars had dead batteries—that clerk said she thought they all needed new batteries. I thought this did not bode well for my quick trip for three items. The girl reads my body language and says, “Do you want a car?” I said it looked like they were all dead. She uncovered one control and said. “I think this one is okay.”
I took the cart, left her my crutches and hummed off to grab the quick three items. At the furthest point from the door, the cart goes dead. I’m left sitting, regretting leaving my crutches. Fiddling around, I discovered if I pushed the lever all the way, I could reach up to the product display racks and pull myself along. The cart was only mostly dead. With a muscle assist, the cart powered along. Eyes flicked toward me even more than they usually do as I shop through under full power. I’m sure it was an odd sight, me pulling myself along, reaching ahead from shelf to shelf, aisle to aisle.
I got within sight of a door and found a wheelchair with attached basket. I commandeer it, abandon the cripple car, zip through the checkout and headed for the house, calling Ellen in route. My twenty-minute trip had taken over an hour. I was hacked. Somehow, it seems worse to give you a cripple car that takes you into the bowels of the store and dies, than not to have them available at all.
I decided that was it. I wasn’t going to marry Sam’s daughter. I would have been just what she needed to bring joy into her life, but I wasn’t going make him happy by redeeming her. He obviously doesn’t care for his handicapped customers, and doesn’t deserve for one of them to bring happiness to his daughter. Not that I even know her. As a flippant defense against people’s pity and their well-meaning, sincere attempts to mate me with someone who “would take care of me,” I began to tell everyone that I was looking for a redhead, fifty-five, single, and rich. In the right company, I would pause and add, “come to think of it, a nice change would be someone with a bosom.”
One day, Jen e-mailed a picture of a redhead who fit the description. It was one of Sam Walton’s daughters, but the picture was of her being taken into jail on a drunken driving charge. Since that time, my comic patter has been to say I was going to drive to Bentonville and woo Sam Walton’s daughter, that I was going to straighten out her troubled, unhappy, but wealthy life with my pure love and wise ways. But not now, he can’t, or won’t, keep his cripple cars running.
I notice that all of the cripple cars have plastic bags over the control boxes. I was in the store earlier in the week at the other door half-a-block away and all of the cars had dead batteries—that clerk said she thought they all needed new batteries. I thought this did not bode well for my quick trip for three items. The girl reads my body language and says, “Do you want a car?” I said it looked like they were all dead. She uncovered one control and said. “I think this one is okay.”
I took the cart, left her my crutches and hummed off to grab the quick three items. At the furthest point from the door, the cart goes dead. I’m left sitting, regretting leaving my crutches. Fiddling around, I discovered if I pushed the lever all the way, I could reach up to the product display racks and pull myself along. The cart was only mostly dead. With a muscle assist, the cart powered along. Eyes flicked toward me even more than they usually do as I shop through under full power. I’m sure it was an odd sight, me pulling myself along, reaching ahead from shelf to shelf, aisle to aisle.
I got within sight of a door and found a wheelchair with attached basket. I commandeer it, abandon the cripple car, zip through the checkout and headed for the house, calling Ellen in route. My twenty-minute trip had taken over an hour. I was hacked. Somehow, it seems worse to give you a cripple car that takes you into the bowels of the store and dies, than not to have them available at all.
I decided that was it. I wasn’t going to marry Sam’s daughter. I would have been just what she needed to bring joy into her life, but I wasn’t going make him happy by redeeming her. He obviously doesn’t care for his handicapped customers, and doesn’t deserve for one of them to bring happiness to his daughter. Not that I even know her. As a flippant defense against people’s pity and their well-meaning, sincere attempts to mate me with someone who “would take care of me,” I began to tell everyone that I was looking for a redhead, fifty-five, single, and rich. In the right company, I would pause and add, “come to think of it, a nice change would be someone with a bosom.”
One day, Jen e-mailed a picture of a redhead who fit the description. It was one of Sam Walton’s daughters, but the picture was of her being taken into jail on a drunken driving charge. Since that time, my comic patter has been to say I was going to drive to Bentonville and woo Sam Walton’s daughter, that I was going to straighten out her troubled, unhappy, but wealthy life with my pure love and wise ways. But not now, he can’t, or won’t, keep his cripple cars running.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Who's The Most Pathetic?
Friday was the last performance of the play featuring my son. I knew many were planning to attend the last performance. About 6:00 p.m., my stomach was in a knot, bulking toward being in a boulder. My hands began to shake; my body developed the booga-boogas. In an hour-and-a-half in my theater, watching the plays I would have my parents, Connie, Jean--Connie’s mom, several B’wood faculty members and Center Stages folk.
I began to realize, I had no idea how my parents would behave, nor was I sure of Connie’s behavior. Usually she “doesn’t see me” in public, but after the last performance of my last play "not seeing me" stretched to include inviting my whole play cast over to Bruce’s house for a cast party and keeping it secret from me. However, the presence of her mom usually means Connie will actually acknowledge me and speak to me rather than look through me as if I were invisible. Included in the faculty/theatre group were some of the “well intentioned friends” who had first come to me with the news that “something might be going on” between Bruce and Connie during that nightmare two years she and Bruce were in a relationship before she finally moved out.
Some of those people had come to me with intense concern, telling me I “needed to know.” Oddly, later, those same people seemed to avoid me and place themselves in close proximity to Connie and Bruce when we were all at Center events. During Connie and Bruce’s, affair these people talked as if they were "on my side" even though they seemed disappointed I would not join them dishing dirt about Connie and Bruce. After the divorce, they seemed to choose “the other side.”
As my stomach knot grew boulder size, I realized I was on the edge of coming unglued. I called to make sure some of my friends were going to be at the show to make sure I would not be alone. I did not want to be in the middle of that mix alone. I was afraid I would melt down. Becka came, entertained my parents while I walked around and played host. She sat with me during the show.
The most surreal moment came after the show. Jean crossed the floor to speak to my parents, and mom struck up an easy, familiar, conversation with her. Connie walked up, stood directly in front of me and began to speak directly to me, making small congratulatory talk. There was something strange about the way she was standing. She seemed to be holding her car keys in an odd way.
Maybe I was imagining it, but she was facing me squarely, telling me she “liked the play” etc. etc. but her elbows were bent, hands in front, holding her car keys in both hands, almost as if she was about to present them to me as an award. I noticed the key on top—she had one hand holding the top as if it were a product she was displaying for a commercial, and the other hand supporting/cradling the part of the key that goes in the ignition. I noticed it was a car key with a jagged groove in it, rather than jagged edges. She kept holding the key as if she was going to present it to me, while making non-specific positive statements about the show.
I looked her in the eyes. She seemed to be concentrating on my face. I nodded, glanced around, listened to her generic “it was good” statements, watched her face, wondered why she was holding her car keys that way, and eavesdropped on my parents and Jean talking about Jean's knee replacement surgery. I wondered, idly, at the pleasantness of my mom’s conversation, heard her say something to Connie and was relieved that she was being pleasant, not calling Connie a slut or anything like that. However, at the same time I was irritated at the bland politeness of their conversation. In the middle of all that, I realized the key Connie held poised in her hands was to a new car.
It was not a Honda key and it did not have the Toyota logo that would match Jean or Bruce’s cars. I suddenly got a flashed mental picture of a girl with a new engagement ring holding her left hand in an obvious manner hoping someone would notice and ask about it. I slowly and thickly began to believe she was displaying her new car key for me to notice, and maybe comment on. I am probably wrong about that, but the thought persisted.
The moment passed. Everyone cleared the theater, murmuring bland pleasantries, and I began to feel sad. I do not know who is more pathetic: me for still loving her, or her for trying to build a happy life out of consumer goods.
I began to realize, I had no idea how my parents would behave, nor was I sure of Connie’s behavior. Usually she “doesn’t see me” in public, but after the last performance of my last play "not seeing me" stretched to include inviting my whole play cast over to Bruce’s house for a cast party and keeping it secret from me. However, the presence of her mom usually means Connie will actually acknowledge me and speak to me rather than look through me as if I were invisible. Included in the faculty/theatre group were some of the “well intentioned friends” who had first come to me with the news that “something might be going on” between Bruce and Connie during that nightmare two years she and Bruce were in a relationship before she finally moved out.
Some of those people had come to me with intense concern, telling me I “needed to know.” Oddly, later, those same people seemed to avoid me and place themselves in close proximity to Connie and Bruce when we were all at Center events. During Connie and Bruce’s, affair these people talked as if they were "on my side" even though they seemed disappointed I would not join them dishing dirt about Connie and Bruce. After the divorce, they seemed to choose “the other side.”
As my stomach knot grew boulder size, I realized I was on the edge of coming unglued. I called to make sure some of my friends were going to be at the show to make sure I would not be alone. I did not want to be in the middle of that mix alone. I was afraid I would melt down. Becka came, entertained my parents while I walked around and played host. She sat with me during the show.
The most surreal moment came after the show. Jean crossed the floor to speak to my parents, and mom struck up an easy, familiar, conversation with her. Connie walked up, stood directly in front of me and began to speak directly to me, making small congratulatory talk. There was something strange about the way she was standing. She seemed to be holding her car keys in an odd way.
Maybe I was imagining it, but she was facing me squarely, telling me she “liked the play” etc. etc. but her elbows were bent, hands in front, holding her car keys in both hands, almost as if she was about to present them to me as an award. I noticed the key on top—she had one hand holding the top as if it were a product she was displaying for a commercial, and the other hand supporting/cradling the part of the key that goes in the ignition. I noticed it was a car key with a jagged groove in it, rather than jagged edges. She kept holding the key as if she was going to present it to me, while making non-specific positive statements about the show.
I looked her in the eyes. She seemed to be concentrating on my face. I nodded, glanced around, listened to her generic “it was good” statements, watched her face, wondered why she was holding her car keys that way, and eavesdropped on my parents and Jean talking about Jean's knee replacement surgery. I wondered, idly, at the pleasantness of my mom’s conversation, heard her say something to Connie and was relieved that she was being pleasant, not calling Connie a slut or anything like that. However, at the same time I was irritated at the bland politeness of their conversation. In the middle of all that, I realized the key Connie held poised in her hands was to a new car.
It was not a Honda key and it did not have the Toyota logo that would match Jean or Bruce’s cars. I suddenly got a flashed mental picture of a girl with a new engagement ring holding her left hand in an obvious manner hoping someone would notice and ask about it. I slowly and thickly began to believe she was displaying her new car key for me to notice, and maybe comment on. I am probably wrong about that, but the thought persisted.
The moment passed. Everyone cleared the theater, murmuring bland pleasantries, and I began to feel sad. I do not know who is more pathetic: me for still loving her, or her for trying to build a happy life out of consumer goods.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Against All Natural Impulses
Against all natural impulses, she took slights and disappointments inside and held them. If she had sipped a foul tasting drink, she would have spewed it out. She never would take a drink, find it bad tasting, and, rather than spit it out, hold it in her mouth until it became increasingly more bitter. Nor would she, when she could no longer stand the bitterness in her mouth, swallow it and hold it inside until it festered into poison and infused her whole body. Yet she took emotional slights, swallowed and brewed them inside until poisoned. When full of poison, she spewed all over those closest to her, all over those who loved her. Against all natural impulses.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Celebrate Joy
November my daughter asked about the Today’s English Bible we used in Bible Hour when she was little. I remembered the book, but couldn’t find it on the shelves at home. I went looking on Amazon Marketplace:
$7.00 Good
Seller: VVVV (Safe buying guarantee)
Rating: 4.9 stars over the past twelve months (45 ratings). Seller has 49 lifetime ratings.
Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days; Ships from United States.
Comments: 1976 American Bible Society, hardcover, Donor Edition. Pages clean with no markings. Pages have a wrinkled effect at outer edges.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Sunday, December 12, 2004 2:52 PM
To: VVVV
Subject: Good News Bible on Amazon
Does this one have a vinyl cover they called “gold” (possibly looks slightly yellow green)? If so, I want it.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Sunday, December 12, 2004 3:02 PM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
The color sounds the same but the cover I wouldn't call vinyl. It's a hardback...does have gold lettering. I hope that helps...best wishes. VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Amazon.com Payments
Sent: Tuesday, December 14, 2004 12:47 AM
To: Sage
Subject: Your Amazon Marketplace Purchase
Dear Sage,
We're writing to confirm your purchase of the following Amazon Marketplace
item from VVVV: 1 of Good News Bible: Today's English Version/362Nbg
The seller has agreed to ship by 15-December-2004. This message serves as
advance notification of your shipment--most sellers will NOT send a
separate shipment confirmation.
The arrival expectation is 4 to 14 business days. If your shipment does not arrive by 03-January-2005, please contact the seller to check the status of the shipment.
Here's your receipt.
---------------------------------------------------
Amazon Marketplace Receipt
Date: 13-December-2004
Order #: *****-******-*******
1 of Good News Bible: Today's English Version/362Nbg by [$7.00]
Buyer: Sage
Seller: VVVV
Shipping & Handling: [$3.49]
Your Total: [$10.49]
Paid via Amazon Payments
Your Shipping Address:
* ****
** *******
**** *********** ** *****-****
---------------------------------------------------
Thank you for making your purchase via Amazon Marketplace.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Tuesday, December 14, 2004 12:54 AM
To: VVVV
Subject: RE: Good News Bible on Amazon
Just got the Amazon web to take the order. Must have been jammed up yesterday. Thanks for the e-mail, it helped. Be well.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Wednesday, December 15, 2004 6:26 AM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
Your Bible is in the mail...I wondered what it was that is so special about this Bible to you. Just noisy. VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Wednesday, December 15, 2004 9:38 PM
To: VVVV
Subject: RE: Good News Bible on Amazon
When my daughter was very young, my ex-wife and I always taught Bible class and children’s Bible hour together. My daughter grew up with us as her teachers. As she grew older, she co-taught with us and later with me. The line drawing illustrations, the heft and feel of the binding, and even the pages that tended to go crinkly at the edges on that particular “Donor’s Edition” were all parts of her earliest Bible lessons at church and at home. I remember her commenting on all of those things as a three, four, and five year-old. In particular, she liked the simple illustrations. Some of her early drawings were attempts in that spare style.
Now she is a young married; she and her husband co-teach children’s classes and are anticipating starting a family. She mentioned needing a Good News Bible to help prepare lessons. Our family copy left when my wife left and is unavailable to us now. I think my daughter’s reasons for wanting that translation to prepare lessons for their little students go deeper than its readability, so I am gambling a few bucks that the book you sent is the same edition, exactly--binding, pictures, and crinkly pages. If it is, I believe it will be a happy reminder of some childhood feelings she wants to pass along to her students.
Yes, I’m a sentimental sap. Thanks for letting me know it’s on its way.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Thursday, December 16, 2004 4:37 AM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
Oh, I love your story. I hope it is what you wanted, please let me know. Your daughter will love your thoughtfulness! Sorry about your pain otherwise. You did a good job teaching and preparing and your joy is watching your daughter follow in your footsteps. No greater joy is there than to see your child follow the Lord. It is a priceless reward for your many years of teaching.
Have a great Holiday! VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Saturday, January 1, 2005 10:00 PM
To: VVVV
Subject: Re: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
The Bible arrived just in time. I received it as my son and I were packing for our trip to my daughter’s home. It is exactly what I wanted.
I noticed her sitting with it Christmas afternoon for quite a while, flipping through the Old Testament, looking at the illustrations. When she noticed me watching her, she mentioned her strong memories of being read to as a little girl. She was smiling. Her smile was my best present.
The book was packed perfectly and arrived in excellent condition. Thanks for the quick delivery, and for your e-mail. You reminded me of a joy I should celebrate. My holidays are still diminished, somewhat. They may always be, but your sensitivity and encouragement brightened this one for me.
Thank you. Sage
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Sunday, January 02, 2005 12:03 PM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
Thanks, what a great story! Snif! VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
$7.00 Good
Seller: VVVV (Safe buying guarantee)
Rating: 4.9 stars over the past twelve months (45 ratings). Seller has 49 lifetime ratings.
Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days; Ships from United States.
Comments: 1976 American Bible Society, hardcover, Donor Edition. Pages clean with no markings. Pages have a wrinkled effect at outer edges.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Sunday, December 12, 2004 2:52 PM
To: VVVV
Subject: Good News Bible on Amazon
Does this one have a vinyl cover they called “gold” (possibly looks slightly yellow green)? If so, I want it.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Sunday, December 12, 2004 3:02 PM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
The color sounds the same but the cover I wouldn't call vinyl. It's a hardback...does have gold lettering. I hope that helps...best wishes. VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Amazon.com Payments
Sent: Tuesday, December 14, 2004 12:47 AM
To: Sage
Subject: Your Amazon Marketplace Purchase
Dear Sage,
We're writing to confirm your purchase of the following Amazon Marketplace
item from VVVV: 1 of Good News Bible: Today's English Version/362Nbg
The seller has agreed to ship by 15-December-2004. This message serves as
advance notification of your shipment--most sellers will NOT send a
separate shipment confirmation.
The arrival expectation is 4 to 14 business days. If your shipment does not arrive by 03-January-2005, please contact the seller to check the status of the shipment.
Here's your receipt.
---------------------------------------------------
Amazon Marketplace Receipt
Date: 13-December-2004
Order #: *****-******-*******
1 of Good News Bible: Today's English Version/362Nbg by [$7.00]
Buyer: Sage
Seller: VVVV
Shipping & Handling: [$3.49]
Your Total: [$10.49]
Paid via Amazon Payments
Your Shipping Address:
* ****
** *******
**** *********** ** *****-****
---------------------------------------------------
Thank you for making your purchase via Amazon Marketplace.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Tuesday, December 14, 2004 12:54 AM
To: VVVV
Subject: RE: Good News Bible on Amazon
Just got the Amazon web to take the order. Must have been jammed up yesterday. Thanks for the e-mail, it helped. Be well.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Wednesday, December 15, 2004 6:26 AM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
Your Bible is in the mail...I wondered what it was that is so special about this Bible to you. Just noisy. VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Wednesday, December 15, 2004 9:38 PM
To: VVVV
Subject: RE: Good News Bible on Amazon
When my daughter was very young, my ex-wife and I always taught Bible class and children’s Bible hour together. My daughter grew up with us as her teachers. As she grew older, she co-taught with us and later with me. The line drawing illustrations, the heft and feel of the binding, and even the pages that tended to go crinkly at the edges on that particular “Donor’s Edition” were all parts of her earliest Bible lessons at church and at home. I remember her commenting on all of those things as a three, four, and five year-old. In particular, she liked the simple illustrations. Some of her early drawings were attempts in that spare style.
Now she is a young married; she and her husband co-teach children’s classes and are anticipating starting a family. She mentioned needing a Good News Bible to help prepare lessons. Our family copy left when my wife left and is unavailable to us now. I think my daughter’s reasons for wanting that translation to prepare lessons for their little students go deeper than its readability, so I am gambling a few bucks that the book you sent is the same edition, exactly--binding, pictures, and crinkly pages. If it is, I believe it will be a happy reminder of some childhood feelings she wants to pass along to her students.
Yes, I’m a sentimental sap. Thanks for letting me know it’s on its way.
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Thursday, December 16, 2004 4:37 AM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
Oh, I love your story. I hope it is what you wanted, please let me know. Your daughter will love your thoughtfulness! Sorry about your pain otherwise. You did a good job teaching and preparing and your joy is watching your daughter follow in your footsteps. No greater joy is there than to see your child follow the Lord. It is a priceless reward for your many years of teaching.
Have a great Holiday! VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: Sage
Sent: Saturday, January 1, 2005 10:00 PM
To: VVVV
Subject: Re: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
The Bible arrived just in time. I received it as my son and I were packing for our trip to my daughter’s home. It is exactly what I wanted.
I noticed her sitting with it Christmas afternoon for quite a while, flipping through the Old Testament, looking at the illustrations. When she noticed me watching her, she mentioned her strong memories of being read to as a little girl. She was smiling. Her smile was my best present.
The book was packed perfectly and arrived in excellent condition. Thanks for the quick delivery, and for your e-mail. You reminded me of a joy I should celebrate. My holidays are still diminished, somewhat. They may always be, but your sensitivity and encouragement brightened this one for me.
Thank you. Sage
_____________________________________________________________________________
From: VVVV
Sent: Sunday, January 02, 2005 12:03 PM
To: Sage
Subject: Re: Good News Bible on Amazon
Thanks, what a great story! Snif! VV
_____________________________________________________________________________
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