Odd day - endless parade of the clueless. Odder evening - book study at the church with LaElu, Grandmother, sane brother & sil, several others. For one who purports to be so widely read, I've rather several gaps in my education. In response to an observation about Dan Brown's book which postulated a romance between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, several ladies present said that Jesus wouldn't have done that. I rather blundered into disfavor by agreeing that maybe he had the right idea. It seems that for the last month, every guy in trouble I've met has started the conversation with either "I was in this bar . . ." or "There was this woman . . ." Hmmmm - I wonder if by admitting that I'm reducing my already non-existent chances of getting lucky with any of the Ladies of the Shelf. Ah, well, perhaps I'm in reality dreadfully dull and thoroughly domesticated.
Well, I hope I never quit learning.
My dear friend Leah just got back from SF - secreting the ashes of her in-laws (whom she loved) in some out-of-the-way place. Our rituals of death, those are strange. Personally, I would go for the cave thing or, failing that, the platform thing, so that I can return to the earth through my friends.
More fun in federal court tomorrow. At a dinner party thing with LaElu Friday night, I was basically consumed with getting back to No. 3 to file something in federal court -- but how do you explain that? This is a part of my world.
An acquaintance of son Tim was murdered, apparently by an ex-husband, Saturday night. He's affecting no effect, but I know it bothers the hell out of him. But knowing murdered people, that's part of my world, too. Friend Dave and I were reminiscing a few months ago about how many people we've known who got whacked, and it was an impressive number. When we go for coffee, he never sits with his back to a door, which is a wise precaution in his job.
The whole gift and partying thing for Christmas is a gigantic pain in the ass. I cannot help but cringe at how many days No. 3 will be out-of-service this month.
Oh, and permit me to wish a warm welcome to the busybodies who visit here who don't know where to go buy a clue about what I'm saying.
Mizpah.
R
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2 comments:
I don't know one murdered person. Why do you know so many? Your career? Your country? Or are you a jinx?!?
I think the only person I knew personally who was murdered was my uncle. Though, when I was in college, a guy I knew's entire family was murdered by his younger brother.
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