Tuesday, October 13, 2009

ZZ Top Didn't Have A Better Beard














I was going to write about a memorial service I attended with Sierra this afternoon. About a crowd so large it filled the auditorium and an additional open area set up with a large screen view of the whole sad affair. How Taylor Swift’s voice sang, “This ain’t no fairytale,” and how Uncle Bob said, “Death is a nightmare we wish we could wake up from but we can’t”. About one family member referring to this as a promotion to glory and another’s comment that we will miss them in our humanness. I was going to write about nine lives that were saved through organ donations. The little girl who received lungs and the mother who received a heart. But darned if it hasn’t already been a downer of a day.

I stayed up way too late with a feverish Josh. Some other bug has hit. It’s been cold and rainy all day and although I made a big pot of beef barely soup and whole wheat bread for dinner, in order to consider the meal a success I had to sit and listen to Kenny and Sam complain about it until they finally, finally ate some. Sam was smart enough to eat most of his bowl; he didn’t have to march straight to bed. To top it off, my friend’s puppy died. The weather seems appropriate.

I’d really like to write about something entirely different. But what? Hmm. How about I tell you a story.

Once upon a long time ago, I was a junior in college. I lived in Walla Walla and attended Whitman College. I had a friend with many “townie” friends. People who didn’t go to our school. One of these people was Sean and he attended Walla Walla College in College Place because, I imagine, his folks were Seventh-Day Adventists. He didn’t seem to be much of one.

Sean was from Hawaii. I forget which island but it sounded awfully nice. We got along very well and before long he was spending a lot of his time at my house. I have no idea how he accomplished any school work. I don’t know; maybe he didn’t. But he did paint. He was a pretty talented guy. And darned good looking.

Any time we’d go anywhere, girls would stop and stare. What was he doing with me? I’ll tell you what he was doing: Pretending he wasn’t gay.

I was slow on the uptake. I just didn’t occur to me. Oddly enough, it took him much longer to admit it to himself but I was, my dear friends, a BEARD. No idea why it took me so long to figure it out; when I guy looks like this, your options are pretty limited.

P.S. About the other day: I took the bull by the horns and spoke my mind. I burned some bridges but I there was nothing to see on the other side anyway.
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