A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

I'm not sure why I started blogging. I know I unequivocally decided to blog on Postmenopausal Day, but I'm not sure why. Am I wasting my time? Probably. All I have to show for my blogging are some nasty emails from Bob Jones University, an increased knowledge of html (I think I'm up to the average 14-year-old, by now, at least) and a handful of great New York expressions from BelleDame (which really impress my friends). Does anyone read this? Well, Sitemeter says a few dedicated folks actually do, so I charge onward, boring the masses (okay, a tiny fraction of the masses) with my postmenopausal, post-hippie existence.

Thank the Lord for Halloween, or should I say, thank the pagans! (Thanks, yall!) Currently sipping some yummy, decadent Fresh Market Pumpkin Spice coffee, which I am aware is not bird-friendly, free trade OR organic, and so, Catholic Guilt and Shame (herein known as CGAS) accompanies my warm and tingly Halloween-Autumn vibe. (Alas, there is no escape from Searching and Fearless Moral Inventories, whether we ever really wanted them or not.) My TV is tuned to the lovely Adrienne Barbeau, ex-wife of John Carpenter, who bravely battles The Fog, and I am comforting myself that at least I am not in a horror movie. Although if Dubya continues on his present course and destroys the world as we know it, we very well may be, so this is a form of meditation and preparation. Horror movies explain what NOT to do in life, and this one reminds us to stay out of the fog.

Speaking of fog, I have several foggy things on the agenda for the week, so stay tuned, fight fans.

~*~

There I was yesterday, re-stocking amino acids and having an existential dilemma about blogging (see above), when Ron Paul Guy (herein known as RPG) approaches me to ask if I am going to the gay movie. Gay movie? BOYS IN THE BAND? BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN? THE CHILDREN'S HOUR? (*nods to Belledame*)

RPG just rolled his eyes, as he usually does when I don't know what is happening. NO, the GAY MOVIE, titled For the Bible tells me so. It's the Soulforce gang again! There is going to be a counter-demonstration!

A counter-demonstration of a MOVIE? Oh, God. I refer everyone to the videos I posted on Tuesday. I was morally exempt (I told myself) from the April Soulforce demo because I was already scheduled to work. However, I will not be scheduled to work during this movie. Oh, God. Well, I said, under the laser-beam glare of RPG's eyes, I guess I will go.

And then, late last night, sitting with local Deadheads on their shadowy terrace, beautifully lit by green light, crystal wind-chimes that spin rainbows in the dark, and candles that illuminated their jungle-like maze of plants, I said, again: Yes! I will go and blog about it! They were very supportive. Deadheads rule, always.

And now, I am committed to doing this. And frankly, I don't want to. It's the kind of thing that if I weren't blogging, I'd find a reason to put off. But now, I feel I have to Witness to the Truth, and all like that.

RPG enthusiastically agreed, and then informed me I had to go see Ron Paul on November 1, which also has the distinction of being All Saints Day. Since I pointedly missed my last Holy Day of Obligation (see CGAS above), I have to go this time. (I'm also gonna try to make All Souls Day, which many of you know as Day of the Dead.) I guess Ron Paul can fit into my All Saints Day itinerary. I am not voting for him and there is plenty about his politics that I intensely dislike, but I was so impressed by how he shook up the last somnambulist GOP debate with some righteous fury over Iraq, I figure I can mosey on over to Pleasantburg Drive and tell him so. I'm also curious about who else might show up. More demonstrators? Positive? Negative?

And then there is the gay movie.

Leading the counter-demonstrators will likely be Badass Preacher Man (herein known as BPM). He is, in fact, in one of the aformentioned videos I posted. He knows me through my work, and he likes me. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. How could this man who preaches like a lunatic-on-cocaine actually like me? I dunno, but I can honestly say, if I had never seen him preach, I'd unreservedly like him, too. BPM literally has two personalities: a sweet, kindly southern gentleman and then, well, see for yourself. I've always known this, since he's been a local Religious-Right fixture for years, and has been prominently featured on numerous national newsclips as well, feverishly preaching against sodomy. And yet, he has been very sweet and friendly to me.

If I show up at the gay movie, will that change? I don't mind telling you, that makes me nervous. I don't know why, but it does. I would like to keep business, religion and politics all separate, but as you all know, life doesn't usually work that way, does it? Perhaps I like him more than I am willing to admit. Hopefully, his fondness for me will carry the day, too?

And what will happen if it does? I can tell you what: a day or so later, when BPM has calmed down, he is likely to ask me why I was there. He knows I am married, a grandmother even. He has no idea.

Should I tell? We are back to the bisexuality question. I am fixin to have a 20th wedding anniversary this month. Bisexuality doesn't even seem relevant, but of course, it is; it is who I am. Should I be honest? I have never told anyone who might be hostile; I've never had to. This will be a first. And even though most old-school southerners would never ask, BPM will ask, since he does like me and will consider my soul in jeopardy.

It's a hairy situation. What's a mother to do?

Of course, I know. At this stage of my life, I will have to tell the truth. I no longer have the wherewithal, the temerity, the ability, to lie, to cover-up, to equivocate.

And then, what happens?

Stay tuned, fight fans. A fun All Saints Week awaits us.

----------------
Listening to: Social Distortion - Don't Drag Me Down
via FoxyTunes