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Some people swore that the house was haunted. Pedestrians, heads down, felt an odd shiver as they passed it, on the way to their ordinary lives. The feeling that went up their spines was not the result of a poltergeist however, and would never have made the plot of a Hitchcock movie. The thing that repelled most people from this house, the palpable thing in the air that chilled one, was sadness.

The house had the look of a grieving soul. It’s frame looking ready to collapse, burdened by some unseen weight. She looked out her front window and longed for ordinary. She prayed for her ordinary life to come back on a daily basis. She remembered rushing to go to the grocery store after work, the kiss at the back steps every evening. The smell of his neck as they embraced…she wanted to smell him again. Drowning in grief and self-pity, she wondered if this was the day it would all stop.

She had locked herself in a suburban prison for the last five years, hell-bent on a life sentence. She had created her own form of cosmic punishment for living, for breathing in and out every day. In her world food had no taste, flowers were devoid of color and sadness was a badge she wore on a dirty smock. Self-loathing was her hobby and she had become quite adept at it. She didn’t abuse drugs or alcohol, they would mask the sadness…she wanted to feel every particle of it. She wallowed in sadness and refused to allow anything or anyone to deny her. Sadness welcomed her to each new day and was lying beside her each night.

Like the rest of the world, she was stunned to see the second plane hit the tower. Anger flushed her face as she, like everyone else, surmised this was a planned terror attack on America. She watched TV non-stop most days, but even for her, leaving it on for three straight days was unusual. The pictures were what did it, the photographs stuck to every sign, telephone pole, and wall in New York. The faces of the lost met her gaze in the sad house. She heard her own voice come out of the survivors on the television. The desperation, the prayers, the tears flowed from them over loved ones that were never coming home. She ached for the people she did not know, she cried for America.

After a couple of days of being mesmerized at the television, she realized something. She had stopped wallowing in self-pity and was actually thinking of others. Her hands started to shake as she began to think about leaving the house. She would drive as far as they would allow her, and then set out on foot. She didn’t know what she would do, hand out water, pick up trash, it didn’t matter. She had to get down there and lend a hand to help the people of New York.

Pulling out of the drive-way she looked at the front of the house and slammed on the brakes, exited the car, and ran back inside.  She unfurled the flag and placed it in the holder mounted on her porch. The stars and stripes flapped sharply in the September air. She trotted back to her car and took off towards the city. The man walked by and looked at the house with the flag out front; she passed him in her car. The two of them exchanged waves and knowing smiles. Nothing was ever the same again after that.

We all hopefully have had them in our lives…a perfect moment.  Whether it be the first time you held your child, or the first kiss with a life-long love.  They are magical moments that although fleeting, stay with us forever.  My blog has touched upon the seconds and minutia of everyday life, it has been a running theme in my posts if you have been with me since the beginning.

My OCD makes me obsess in the small things in my life, but I am convinced that the perfect moments are life itself, the true meaning of life. They are why we have evolved to be here in the first place.  Religious people will tend to think that the moments I am talking about are devine moments, moments of true inspiration.  The word “inspiration” has several different meanings, but the breath of a divine being…the intensity and purity of a moment is one way to perceive this unit of time I am writing about today.  I tend to regard the moment or moments as our reward for fighting through what can most certainly be a tough existence on this earth.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not getting all mystical on your ass, nor have I started to watch Joel Osteen on Sunday mornings.  I just want to express that I have these moments tucked in my jean pocket and I rely on them when times are hard. These short, cerebral films are touchstones for me, snippets of happiness, sometimes sadness, but perfectly edited.  Sadness you say?  Yes, sadness and sad memories can reach perfection as well.  When we are sad or devastated at some point in our lives, the level of sadness equals the level of loss.  For example when I am feeling sad over the loss of a loved one, what follows are moments of perfection that I shared with that person.  The bitter is always followed by the sweet.

One movie I have on my DVR is , Home for the Holidays, directed by Jodie Foster and starring Holly Hunter.  A grown woman goes home for Thanksgiving. The movie shows her dealing with real middle-aged problems as she comes face to face with her dysfunctional family for a holiday weekend.  I have watched the movie about 12 times because of two reasons.  First off, it shows me that there are other families as screwed up as the one I am in.  And secondly, it shows a scene about a perfect moment at the end of the film.

The great character actor Charles Durning plays the patriarch.  Toward the end of the film he is shown watching old 8mm films of his kids in the basement of his house.  The Holly Hunter character joins him for a talk and he tells her of one of his pieces of perfection that he keeps in his own pocket of memories.  Durning tells the story of working at the airport and one afternoon in the 60s his wife brought his 3 kids out to see where he worked.  He stood close to the tarmac with his kids and watched as a jet took off, rumbling over the family.  The father remembered holding tight to his kids, the squeeze of a hand, the exchange of excitement and love.  Raising 3 kids, now drastically different adults, those few moments he had held onto as tightly as the small child’s hand had grasped his so long ago.  Sixty seconds he guessed….approximately 30 years ago…the perfection sustained, the smile eases across his face.

As we get older we tend to pull these moments up more often, with time we increase the need because as we know, all is not perfect in this world.  I write this today knowing in my heart that my best moments are in front of me, not behind me.  I believe that the best day of my life has not occurred yet.  How wonderful a belief that is to me, because my history has some mighty fine moments!

I will leave you with this today.  If you don’t think you have enough of these mental vacations in your vault….look again.  They are not all births of children, marriages, or parachute jumps.  One of my moments came in May of 1981 in Oklahoma City of all places.  I was 18 years old and working for my softball coach in a summer job.  He owned a cookie company and I was driving a large van to OKC to deliver a load of chocolate chip cookies.  After the first week of working for the company, I never wanted to eat another cookie again…I think I broke their record!

The smell of the cookies was nice though and it was wafting to the front cab of this van.  I was driving down the road and I remember the song “Make Me Smile” by Chicago came on the radio.  I rolled down the window and the temperature was a perfect 75 degrees, cool for May I thought.  I felt like an adult in that moment doing something very adult-like.  I was making my own money and in college.  I had traveled to another state for the first time alone.  I was my own person for the first time, you know what I mean?  Sounds silly, but that cookie delivery was a benchmark for me….that moment was about 3 minutes of greatness.  3 minutes described 30 years later…..must have been friggin awesome.  It was……perfection.

Go ahead, sweat the small stuff….and file the good.  Your life is a motion picture and you are the editor.  Cut and paste at will, do whatever it takes to get through this…enjoy the scenes.

Juju sat in the tan 1962 Cadillac and waited for her mother to exit the post office, she was six years old.  She was looking down at her coloring book when she heard the driver side door open and shut.  She began to ask her mother a question and looked up to meet the gaze of a complete stranger!  You aren’t my Natalie, the woman shrieked!  You are not my mother!

Juju and the woman simultaneously looked at the car next to the Cadillac, a tan Chevy Impala.  A teary eyed child had her face pressed against the window, her yelps silenced by the separation of glass.  The woman’s faced reddened and she made a hasty exit, switched cars and drove off.  Juju’s mother exited the building and now was seated inside the car looking for her keys in her purse.  Juju stated, “you know there was another mommy in here while you were gone.”  Oh yeah, her mother asked…where is she now?  ”She drove off with the other kid.  I am the right kid for you.”  Yes you are dear, now we have to go to Piggly Wigglys for some grocery shopping.

Grocery shopping was pretty fun stuff Juju thought.  She liked the cereal aisle and all the stuff at the ends of each aisle tended to be good too.  Juju’s goal today was to get her mother to buy a boxed Chef Boy-ar-dee Pizza mix, in addition to the obligatory two boxes of fish sticks she required a week.  Juju had made the brave decision to insert this particular boxed pizza into her daily diet of fish sticks for one reason.  Chef Boy-ar-dee had his picture on the box and he looked surprisingly similar to her dad.

Juju wondered if all chefs looked like her dad?  This guy had the same hat, mustache and handkerchief around his neck.  Plus the pizza was plain cheese, Juju’s favorite.  She didn’t like cheese on a sandwich or hamburger, but on pizza is was just right.  It was made with just the red sauce and sprinkles of fake cheese, the absolute best fake cheese though, for sure!  Juju thought her mother would be happy too, she was willing to try real Italian food.

With a minimal amount of negotiation, (Juju was child number seven), the boxed pizza was securely in the basket beside the two green boxes of Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks.  Juju had been eating nothing but the cylindrical white fish for the first several months of first grade. Juju’s mother had informed her that she would have to eat one piece a fruit a day for the entire week and then on Friday night she would help her make the pizza.  Deal!

Juju wandered up and down the aisles for a while, then met her mother at the check out line.  Something for the road was secreted in the front pocket of her blue shorts.  She had to lift up her skirt to get to her shorts underneath, but didn’t think anyone had seen her.  The shorts were required at Harrison Lane Elementary because boys and girls had P.E. together.  Juju heard the teachers talking that maybe the next year they and the female students might be allowed to wear pants!  Juju thought 2nd grade was going to be much better because of that one possibility!

The groceries were placed in the backseat and Juju and her mother took their places once again in the car.  The right mommy this time Juju chuckled.  Her mother, still not knowing what she was talking about, looked over to see Juju unwrapping something.  Juju was nonchalantly unwrapping one Brach’s Neopolitan candy with four more on her lap.  What on earth do you think you are doing!!  I didn’t pay for any candy Juju!  ”But this candy is not in a box, everybody takes a piece, it’s free,” said Juju.  It is most certainly not free Juju.  You march your butt right back in the Piggly and give it back.  Be sure and say you are sorry!

Juju begrudgingly exited the Cadillac and walked back into the Piggly. carefully re-wrapping the piece she almost had in her mouth.  She walked up to the young bag boy in the starched white shirt and black bow-tie.  She handed him the candy and confessed her theft.  ”I took this candy and didn’t pay for it. Will you accept my sorry?”  Yeah kid, it’s okay, said the pimply sixteen year-old, who himself probably ate 10 pieces of Brach’s a shift.

Juju’s mother spoke to her about shoplifting on the way home and said that people actually went to jail for it.  Juju was happy her mother had helped her stay out from behind bars, but still had a hankering for some candy.  As the car pulled into their drive-way on Oak Street, Juju’s mother patted her on the shoulder.  Remember you still have pizza for Friday, we can eat it and watch The Partridge Family.    That put the smile back on Juju’s face, Friday was nine fish sticks away!

Boy, what a day, the wrong mother had almost taken her and then the police could have thrown her in jail.  She wondered if Natalie’s mom would have let her keep the candy?  She had seen her mother eat grapes in the produce section before, she would go for those next time.  Wow, Juju did have the right mom after all.

A friend posted an item on Facebook today and the gist of it was that gay people don’t call marriage “gay marriage.”  Just like in China, they don’t call dinner “Chinese food”…they just call it food.  It occurred to me that the biggest issue that faces people on a daily basis is seeing things from a different perspective.

It’s like that old adage, walk a mile in my shoes.  Look at this life through my eyes, I won’t make you stick your feet in my Nike….you thought I was going to say Birkenstocks, didn’t you?

Congress could benefit from changing perspective, if not for just a few moments.  I watched the NBC special last night on a day in the life on the Hill and it disgusted me.  The personality types that run for office and who wind up sitting in those prestigious offices are sorely inadequate to govern the greatest nation on earth.  That is the main problem.

They could learn a thing or two by looking at different perspectives and not just standing firm in their stance on the debt ceiling.  They always come to a solution at the last-minute that makes no one happy.

Republic. That form of government in which the powers of sovereignty are vested in the people and are exercised by the people, either directly, or through representatives chosen by the people, to whom those powers are specially delegated. NOTE: The word “people” may be either plural or singular. In a republic the group only has advisory powers; the sovereign individual is free to reject the majority group-think.

Democracy. That form of government in which the sovereign power resides in and is exercised by the whole body of free citizens directly or indirectly through a system of representation, as distinguished from a monarchy, aristocracy, or oligarchy. [NOTE: In a pure democracy, 51% beats 49%. In other words, the minority has no rights. The minority only has those privileges granted by the dictatorship of the majority.]

Newsflash people….the United States of America is a Republic.  I wake up everyday very happy about that fact.  I have blogged before today that we would be in trouble if we were a true Democracy.  Oh, it’s fine and dandy if you are in the majority on an issue, but my friends it is a bitch if you are not.

The men and women on Capital Hill are reminded every day that they are representative of the people in our fine republic.  They choose to ignore it by acting like petulant children.  Is this what we want the rest of the world to see as “us”…is it??  The current members of Congress are embarrassments, with few exceptions.  Idiocy comes in all forms, Republicans, Democrats and Tea-Baggers.

There are 22 registered lobbyists for every member of Congress.  Behind every lobbyist there is a company or group…and behind that company or group is money….lots of money.  That money is buying perspective.  That money is not allowing people to jump out of their shoes and to take a hike in mine or yours…it comes down to that.  Money makes the world go round…money corrupts, money discriminates, money kills spirit and people.

Brian Williams said it last night and it is true, the system is broken. In fact, he said it about 12 times.  A republic is a beautiful thing…but you have to elect people who know the meaning of perspective and agree to open their heart and mind to others….to not be swayed by the dollar.

Remember….representatives chosen by the people, to whom those powers are specially delegated.  By the PEOPLE, for the PEOPLE….the people on the Hill are not for me.  Are they for you?  I looked at it from their perspective today…I did try my best.  They get paid five times what our field soldiers in combat get paid.  They wear $1000.00 suits and their shoes are made of Italian leather.  I tried people…I saw their perspective and it sickened me.  The shoe just didn’t fit.

The three sisters and their mother, Jewel, entered the gate and sat next to the closed pool. It was about midnight on a hot June night and the country club had been closed for two hours. Juju’s mother worked at the country club three days a week making salads and other side dishes for the daily buffet. It was her mother’s way of helping her aging and not so healthy father, the chef at the club.

Jewel had a second job during the day at Bell Helicopter in Hurst, Juju’s hometown. At Bell Jewel prepared and served a daily lunch buffet as well, only there, to employees of the worldwide helicopter company. Jewel had taken the Bell job when Juju entered fifth-grade as a way to supplement the family income. Jewel had worked hard her entire life, raising seven children, odd jobs and this, the summer of her fifty-second year, was no different.

Jewel had worked at both locations that Friday night in 1973 and she was hot and tired..tired to the bone. Sitting there, gazing at the pool, she suddenly got to her feet and started to disrobe! “Mother! What are you doing!!??” asked Joyce. I think that water looks damn good, Jewel responded, it looks like an invitation to go skinny-dipping! Juju started laughing as she watched her mother strip!

Two of Juju’s older sisters, Joan and Joyce, had come down to the club on the premise of a late night swim, but not a skinny dip! It was daring enough for them to swim after the pool had closed…daring for Jewel meant no swimsuit. One spotlight illuminated the front of the clubhouse and another at the rear. There was sparse light flickering off the water as Juju jumped off the diving board in all her glory!

The older girls, giggling and nervously chatting followed their mother’s lead and all four were soon cool and relaxed on a long ago Texas night. Jewel regaled her daughters with stories about skinny-dipping while growing up in Fort Worth during the Great Depression. Cheap entertainment she said, who could afford a swimsuit back then?

Juju wondered aloud if they could get in trouble for what they were doing? No said Jewel, she had gotten permission to swim after hours from the club general manager. “Did you neglect to tell her we would be naked??” Joan inquired. Everything they said that night was met with laughter…everything is funnier when you are staring at three naked women. Maybe we shouldn’t call this a skinny-dip Juju said, I don’t see anyone close to skinny here!

Juju watched her mother and couldn’t believe what she was witnessing! The woman who usually got her cardio chasing her around the house with a fly swatter was doing laps in the pool and mooning her!

Friday nights at the club were “all you can eat” shrimp peel night. Juju and her family loved Friday nights because her father would come home with the leftovers! Newspaper would be put all over the kitchen table and a big white tub of shrimp would be dumped out in the middle.
The night had started with a shrimp feast and now was ending with Juju seeing another side of her mother…a goofy, care-free side. Juju marked the moment in her memory. She floated under the diving board and watched her mother and sisters giggle into the night. Even at twelve, Juju knew that certain events tend to stick with you a long time….this was one of those times.

“You are trespassing!! I am calling the police!” said the man’s voice. Juju, startled and scared…nowhere to run…saw a man’s shadow walking from the back door of the club. As the man got closer, Jewel recognized him as Emmet, the dishwasher. The four not-so skinny dippers swam hastily to the front edge of the pool and pulled themselves in tight! “Hey there Emmet, it’s Jewel! I have some of my kids here swimming, everything is okay!” An exchange of pleasantries took place, and Emmet was heading home. Jewel, not seeing any cars in the parking lot, had thought they were safe from discovery, but had forgotten Emmet always had his wife pick him up. More laughter bounced down the hills of the golf course as Emmet got into his ride. Poor, old Emmet was never the wiser, never knowing how close he had come to seeing four sets of Billhymer…shall we say…flotation devices.

The girls, having enough, exited the pool to get dressed. Juju looked back and watched Jewel enjoy herself a few minutes more swimming back and forth alone in the pool. The next day Jewel would be the salad lady again, making sure the club women had the best produce in town available to them. She would walk past the pool on her way to the back door kitchen entrance, carrying only a secret.

Juju worked the snack bar the next day and sat there staring out the window at the packed pool. On that particular day she was not envious of the club kids and their leisurely fun. The crowd before her disappeared and all Juju could see was her mother. There was Jewel throwing her bra over her left shoulder and running butt-naked into the water. Not many people have a memory of their mother like that, Juju thought. From that day on, the moonlight swims her mother suggested took on a whole other meaning.

So I’ve heard some press that the world is coming to an end tomorrow. That means two things to me; the Texas Rangers will never win the World Series and I don’t have to pick up my dry cleaning this afternoon.

I actually don’t care if the world is ending tomorrow. Humans are going to figure out a way to screw it all up anyway…just a matter of time if it doesn’t occur in the next 24 hours. And talk about eliminating all grief, pain and suffering….if we all go together, what does any of it matter? What does matter….matter?

The thought came to me this morning that I could tell everyone I know what I really thought of them today. Then I realized everyone I know already have an inkling of what my feelings are towards them. If you haven’t picked up the phone in a year and asked, “hey Juju, how the hell are you?” Odds are you know I don’t waste my energy thinking of you…except as I type this sentence.

If the world ends tomorrow I will not find out who would have won this season’s American Idol….pity. I told Linda the first week of the final 25 who would be in the finale. The same voting block that brings you the likes of Taylor Hicks, Lee DeWyze, and Carrie Underwood are the tween kids of the people that bring you Rick Santorum, Joe Wilson, and Glenn Beck. That show is about as predictable as Rick Perry’s hair…stiff and totally in-line with the Puritanistic core of America.

I might have donuts for dinner tonight. We all get to share in the delight of those death row inmates in the Texas Department of Corrections….we all get to pick our last meal.
What will yours be? Don’t want to die tomorrow…didn’t do anything wrong to warrant that type of treatment? Neither did a percentage of the inmates on death row…now do you feel their pain? Oh and I might eat a big T-bone steak….screw the vegetarian diet…the cow is dead already….pass the rolls and butter while you are at it.

To the people that owe me money….I am not forgiving your debt. Even if we meet at the gates of hell, you still owe me for that DWI defense…I will bring the tequila.

I honestly think that the end and hell for me would indeed involve Rapture….the Blondie hit from the 80s. Hell for me would be that song on eternal “replay”…with interjected commercials about Oxyclean screamed by a coke snorting guy in a blue shirt.

.. and the dead in Christ shall rise first: Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Thessalonians 4:15-17

Notice the citation for this biblical passage regarding the rapture…4-15-17. That is when I am guessing the end of the world will happen. You heard it here first folks….my soul will be flung on the roof and no one will be able to retrieve it on tax day, 2017.

That gives me some solace and comfort….first knowing that tonight is not my last night on earth. Secondly …knowing for the tax year of 2016 we can all thumb our nose up at the IRS together. What a glorious, bipartisan way to go out?!! A national, unified finger lifted together…an appropriate hand signal for one last hurrah for Americans of all walks of life.

But just in case….just in case this is the end and this is the last blog ever for me….I have one last confession.

I voted for Ronald Reagan in 1984.

Juju stood there at the podium and looked out at the faces of about 450 disinterested teenagers. She could feel her thighs sweating, the crotch of her mother’s panty hose hanging down just a little north of her knees! The smart, maroon print, polyester jacket and short skirt would look fantastic on maybe .001% of the earth’s population, needless to say Juju was not in that minority. Scabs on both knees were visible through the tan stockings, badges of honor really, the result of a dive into the dugout for an errant foul ball the previous Saturday morning. She cleared her throat and tapped the microphone to make sure it was working. From the back of the gymnasium she heard, “You Suck!”

Juju gave her speech for student council secretary, periodically looking down at the bullet points she had jotted down on index cards. As she spoke she wondered what on earth had made her want to do this??!! The entire election was just a foregone conclusion, five popular ninth graders had lined up to take the council officer positions. The assembly for the speeches was kinda like the Dating Game she thought. Even though the guy couldn’t see the girls, you knew the blonde sitting in the middle with the large….uh…with the cute answers was going to get picked. Juju enthralled a couple of teachers and her best friends with her plans for the infra-structure of the school and her hopes to create a student charity account for the community. She heard about six people slap their hands together as she swished (panty-hose) back to her seat and sat down.

Juju’s competitor for the office of student council secretary was the head cheerleader of the school. Her name was Kim and this was her entire speech. “Hey, you guys all vote for me. Student council will be so much fun!! Far out!! Kim sat down to thunderous applause and whistles. It wasn’t so much an ovation as it was a victory celebration, case closed. Kim was the expectant. giggling date sitting in the middle.

Kim sat down next to Juju, in her nicely pressed cheerleader uniform, tanned legs, and bright white Keds. Juju wondered if she could walk home at lunch and change into her jeans, no use in being miserable for the rest of the day. She was embarrassed to tell anyone that she hadn’t owned a dress and had bought it special. Juju’s mother had taken her shopping the previous night to help her get ready for the big speech. Juju knew she didn’t stand a chance, and she believed her mother was of the same opinion. “You just march right up there and show them what you are made of Juju! Sometimes in life you just have to do things that might not allow you to grab the brass ring, but perhaps will yield the unexpected” That is what Juju heard that evening at her house in another speech…her mother’s.

The election day came and the five ninth graders, the hip kids, all won in a landslide. Juju got about twelve votes, eleven if you didn’t count her own. She was trying hard to find the big yield like her mother had told her about.

A couple of months later Juju was working her school job as student aid in the principal’s office, it was the period right before lunch. Secretary Kim came bopping into the office on an errand to retrieve the cheerleader coach’s mail. Juju got the mail and handed it to Kim saying, “hope you are doing well on the council, I don’t have any hard feelings toward you.” Kim got a quizzical look on her face and wondered why Juju had said that? The cheerleader didn’t even remember Juju was the one she had slaughtered in the election. “Whatever” was her response and she turned and cheerleadered herself down the hall.

The yield….there it was. The election was decided because Kim was a hot cheerleader and Juju was a sweating, 7th grade nerd/girl jock. The school got what they deserved Juju thought. In life if you choose for reasons that are not on point, you get someone who can’t stay on that same point. Kim had been more focused on that starched cheerleader outfit than her own opponent…and it had worked for her.

Juju managed to fulfill one of her campaign promises to be more active in her charitable efforts. Not long after, she unceremoniously dropped the maroon polyester skirt set at the local Goodwill Store. As her mother drove off Juju wondered if the next owner of the outfit would be in the .001 percentile or if they would have the guts to go for the brass ring? She was hoping for the latter…and possibly a Slurpee on the way home.

President Charlie Sheen announced today that he had appointed Lindsey Lohan as the new U.S. Ambassador to Columbia. The forty-five year old Lohan said at the press conference, “I am interested in opening up the import/export of product out of Columbia by working on easing up trade restrictions between the two countries.”

Ms. Lohan was asked about the recent New York Times article stating that the melding of the entertainment world with Washington D.C. was the worst thing to ever happen to the country? Lohan retorted, “Well, I have to dispute that. Did you see George W. Bush on Law and Order last night? Not only did he look fantastic for 85, I thought he played the part of the lying, cheating, murderer spot on!”

In other news, President Sheen announced that he would be spending the entire month of August at Camp David with his goddesses, or First Ladies 1, 2, 3, and 4 as they are known throughout the world. He divulged little about the vacation other than the fact that next week there will be a private party on the grounds. P.Diddy IV will be performing live with the likes of Zachary Jackson Levon Furnish-John and others on the playbill.

Right Wingers and Tea Party members continue to rally in middle-America. The premise of their complaints is basically that legalizing gay marriage in 2014 was the catalyst that made our country go to hell in a hand basket. They had always thought that after that we would legalize goats marrying dogs….they didn’t think we would get a coke-head in the White House. They are still trying to perfect their agenda and are earnestly trying to tie everything into one catch phrase: “It’s the Queer’s Fault!” In response to the attacks the HRC pointed out today the divorce rate in heteros has stayed steady at 50% while the divorce rate of queers was only 20%.

Vice-President Justin Bieber declined to comment after repeated requests to his office. Bieber is planning a trip to Israel this summer at the Seventy-Eighth Middle East Peace Talks. He stated he feels confident peace will come soon between the Israelis and the Palestinians…if only they can work that Gaza Strip issue out. Post Israel, the Vice-President is stopping at Euro-Disneyland to be the headliner in the Oldies, But Goodies Tour of 2031. Other headliners for the big show are Willow Smith, Usher, and Jerry Lee Lewis. Lewis, 96 is still touring he says to support his new cousin-bride, who just turned 18.

Washington was shocked today when the Speaker of the House announced that she would not run for re-election in 32 and was stepping down. Speaker Paris Hilton stated she wanted to focus more on her humanity work and besides, “they won’t let my little puppy in the House Chamber and I am sick of all the dark suits.”

Both Houses of Congress approved a amendment today eliminating the Electoral College and our system of voting for a U.S. President. President Sheen is expected to sign the document into law at Camp David. Sheen, in his second term, welcomed the change and stated that he was sure voter turn out would triple in the new format.

The 2032 elections will be the first cycle where we will vote for the new leader of the free world via telephone. The producers of American Idol are very proud to be the designated phone bank for the election. Starting next year Americans can vote on their favorite singer and while on the line, cast their vote for President. Past Idol winner Taylor Hicks is testing the waters and gathering campaign funds as I write this, eager to toss his grey mop into the ring. “I am kinda tired of playing Branson, I thought I might try politics,” stated Hicks.

Governor Joel Burns of the great state of Texas announced good news today. The state has gone an entire year without a child being born and named “Bubba.” Burns also announced that the Texas Education Board is finally seated with educated Texans, a first for the state.

So it seems, even with the mixing of Hollywood and Washington celebrities, the U.S. is still the best place to live in the world. We no longer go to air strikes first to solve international problems and conflicts. We send Oprah, she gives everyone involved 12 free sessions with Dr. Phil and a new Chevy. The sparring factions are also given a copy of “The New Earth” and invited to Winfrey’s Santa Barbara ranch at a later date as a follow up.

The former President and Nobel Peace Prize winner, Winfrey says she is happy to help humanity, that is why she is on earth. When asked what she does when talks hit a stalemate? Winfrey yelled, “I say things three times and loud and it just somehow works out. It does work out. I don’t know how it works, but it does.”

In sports today, Peyton Manning, Jr. threw three touchdowns and beat the North Texas Cowboys. The Pokes continue to struggle internally, but Jerry Jones refuses to step down as General Manager. Coach Tommy Buttlicker had no comment.

This blog was originally published under the title “A Love Letter.”
It has been updated and is currently featured on Blogher.com so I re-post it today for that reason

Some of you have asked if I currently have a life-partner. I do, I actually have a wife….we were married in Dana Point, California on October 3, 2008. We are two of the 18,000 queer people who are legally married in California, having married during a brief time of legality before the passing of Proposition 8. Prop 8 made marriage between same-sex couples illegal again after its passage.

Perry v. Schwarzenegger is making its way up the judicial ladder, currently awaiting a setting in the California Supreme Court. Perry is the landmark California case concerning the fight over Prop 8. The basic argument by the Plaintiff’s is strong legally, based on the Due Process and Equal Protection Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. California has no rational basis or vested interest in denying gays and lesbians marriage licenses. Anyone with the ability to read can come to that conclusion, the hard part is getting people to admit it. Gay bias makes people turn away from cold hard facts…it takes ignorance to discriminate when the laws in place are on point!

Imagine what you would feel like if strangers were deciding if you could marry the person you loved? Americans against gay marriage argue we are a democracy and the voice of the people shall stand…always!
Frankly, I always have thought that is the biggest problem with people’s definition of that style of governing. It took Loving v. Virginia to allow interracial couples to marry…the majority would have never allowed it.

The majority of Americans read on a 7th grade level and have actually never even picked up a copy of the United States Constitution. If you haven’t read it lately, Google it today when you have time. It is actually good reading, a beautiful document.

The 14th Amendment, Section 1 to the Constitution reads as follows:
All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

Plain English? As a queer girl I get the same rights as a straight girl and equal protection under the law. I cannot be denied any right or privilege heterosexuals have by any state as long as I am a citizen of the United States…it is illegal to do so. Wow, that sounds surprisingly simple!

Notice it doesn’t mention religion, we have that little rule “separation of church and state” in America. My marriage has nothing to do with your religion or any one else’s religion. It is a civil ceremony and a civil right if I am a citizen of these United States.

Facebook recently decided to add two categories to the information section regarding your relationship status. They have added “in domestic partnership” and “in a civil union” to the descriptor list. To me, that is the equivalent of saying to a black person, “you still have to sit at the back of the bus, but we have added extra cushion and really nice red velvet to the section!” Thanks, but no thanks!! Members of the LGBT community must not cave!! REFUSE ANYTHING BUT TOTAL EQUALITY!!

The Declaration of Independence is worth a re-read…check out this part of the preamble, in particular:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I had the officiate of my wedding read that very passage at the beginning of the ceremony. We were pursuing our happiness as every day, good old, law-abiding, American citizens.

Oh, okay…back to my wife. For the purpose of this blog we will call her “Linda.” Well, because her name is Linda. We had been together for nine years when I proposed, having lived through previous relationships that were not the right fit…this was indeed, the right fit.

I met Linda through mutual friends and knew right away that my life would never be the same. She is as good, honest, and caring of a person as you will ever meet. It’s ten years later and I am still trying to figure out what she sees in me. I will go the rest of my life protecting her interests, her happiness is always at the forefront of my mind.

We booked the trip, making reservations at the St. Regis at Monarch Beach. It is a glorious, 5 star resort…the setting would be a white gazebo, at sunset, overlooking the Pacific. We were surrounded by a great group of family and friends that were witness to our testimony of commitment. Customs and ceremonies do matter…rituals matter, the the word “marriage” matters….legality matters. It changed our relationship for the better and continues to do so, we are legit.

I am not as tough as my appearance would suggest. I blubber like a baby all the time and my wedding was no different. It had not occurred to me when I was a child that I would ever get a day like October 3, 2008. I didn’t have a phrase for it then, like I do now….but I felt I was a second-class citizen.

Wedding showers and walks down the aisle were for all the other girls, not me. Some argue I could have had it all, if only I had married a man.
My pursuit of truth and the drive for my inalienable rights does not include living a lie…that looks like the contradiction it is, even as I type this sentence.

This is a love letter. I am unabashedly in love with Linda, my spouse….who just happens to be a woman….I feel good today and every day because of that love. I want to spend the rest of my life with her…wouldn’t it be nice if we could do that legally in Texas? The law is clear, our hearts are full, we demand equality. Take your civil-union status and domestic partnerships and put them…well, you know. We are a married couple, it is a lawful union, we are not second class citizens!

I cannot change anything about me or her…the genetic groundwork was done for us long ago. If this was a choice, why would we choose to be part of a minority that is disparaged and rebuked daily? To my detractors, I say, “Why does our love lessen yours?”

I don’t know, maybe I am missing the boat. This all seems unmitigated when you see it in black and white…if only a 7th grader could understand it.