Q to M, Girl!

The following is based in part on a true story. True to me. I was there when she told the story.

One evening at a cocktail party of about twenty gay men, our host invited his female friend Cindy. A lovely woman about my age. She was the only women in a room of gay men and was used to the attention. Although she arrived very late she immediately became the focus of the party.

She had a certain quality about her that made you wonder about her secrets. She appeared to be a lady in her black skirt and Prada mules. A red cardigan sweater and pearls. She had the unmistakable figure of a woman, curves in all the good places, A voluptuous woman whose elegance was well paired with a shocking wit. She appeared to me like a First Lady at a Junior league Luncheon.

Then she spoke.

"The other day the phone rings and I answer” She said. "On the other end of the phone is this voice I'd never heard." "Cindy?" the voice asked. "Yes, who is calling please?" "Cindy replied." "It's me Linda" answered the harsh raspy voice on the phone.

Cindy did a voice to give us the idea, a voice that must have been created from a diet of broken glass and scrap metal, two packs of cigarettes a day and pools of cheap whisky. This was no Celean Deon calling.

"So as everyone knows" Cindy explained "Years ago I was a dancer, OK, a stripper." (I did not know this and was glad to know her secret!) "I danced with this girl Linda; out of the blue she calls me. Last I heard she was still dancing. She lived with a truck driver in a trailer and drank. It was Love!"

"Girl! How have you been? I have missed you..." Cindy made the voice, I have tried to make this voice and it hurts to fake it when I tell the story. Cindy stood before us like a former Miss Mississippi recalling the pageant days.

The women talked for a while and exchanged history and finally Cindy said "Linda, I hate to ask what happened to your voice, but you sound like someone else."

"Girl! (Linda evidently punctuated most sentences with a long drawn GGGIIRRRLLL...) "I tried to kill that worthless bastard I married, but he woke up and I accidentally stabbed myself in the throat."

"HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU STAB YOURSELF IN THE THROAT?" Cindy said in her own voice. "Linda was always tragic in one way or another, she got beat up or mugged more than anyone could imagine. After a while we just got used to her in a cast or with a black eye. You expected it." Everyone was now gathered around our floor show and all other conversation fell silent.

"Anyway, somehow she convinced me to go to a concert at Louisville Fair Grounds. I agreed but remembered that I'm married and have kids and I'm a good girl now. "GGGIIRRLL, I'll meet you there." Linda said. "It's a big place to meet someone; It's like saying I'll meet you in the airport." I guessed Cindy was willing to risk not running into her old friend.

"Well I went. And She found me. She looked older in the face and we are no longer dancers, however she wore a pair of stirrup pants, this is 2004, Who wears stirrup pants?" Cindy paused, "I do not mean to be judge mental, but, we have both gained some weight, I'' she gestured to her waste" I have learned to love my girdle. Linda has never heard of one. She wore white heels with the black pants and a sheer blouse over a tank top. It would seem that she has no use for any foundation garment, not even a bra."

"GGGIIRRRLLL!, You looks tooo goood!," Linda said. "I done had me about three jack and cokes and these boys over there got me high, You want some?"

"No, thank you I..."

"GIRRLL, I took a hit of X at the house..." It seemed she waited for Cindy to be shocked.

"I'll see you after the show, OK" Cindy and her husband went to their seats on the other side of the lobby. "How I wondered could anyone be so tragic and have that much fun. She was so funny when we were in our twenties, but now I just feel sorry for her."

Cindy and her husband waited in the lobby after the concert. Linda came toward them with a drink in her hand, a bloody knee, a gash on her forehead, her sleeve was torn and she was missing a shoe.

"Linda WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?"

"GGGIIRRRLLL!, I stood on my chair to see the show and some BITCH behind me pushed me and I fell from row Q to M."

I laughed so hard that if this had been a White House Dinner, I would have been asked to
leave.

Cindy said they have lost touch again.

I dedicate this to my muse, you know who you are.

Little House

Today was my first of two days off in a row in about three months. The day began with 'Little House on the Prairie'. "I just love that Michel Landon" anyway, as normal I cried. Deeply moved to tears by the unsubtle way love and God guide their everyday lives. The Prairie family seems to be the core of all that is good and right. (Although Pa had an episode with a wealthy widow that had a hawk-eye for the handsome Pa of the Prairie. Pa however was just doing odd jobs for the new neighbor to buy his wife a set of china for their anniversary. ) Still, the rays of that goodness serve as a beacon to guest stars like Morgan Fairchild, Meredith Baxter Berne and the FTD/ football player guy. I guess the show was something like Love Boat to stars that wanted to have a more family image. To me it was church.

Every episode demonstrates how goodness and God is in our lives. Like Suzie Orman and our fico score is to our lives today. Times were simple then and nobody worked for Home Depot and worked on Sunday. EVERY Sunday! God has to sneak in on your day off, usually split by at least 1 day. And help clean the gutters and do laundry and pay bills and and and... It seems the residence of Walnut Grove had it easy. I grew up on "Little House". It gave me the religious foundation I maintain to this day.

This past January my life changed. I took a leap of something with a friend from Chicago. We embarked on a journey together only to see where the road would go. Our time together was inspiring, to be slight. During this union we collaborated about everything to include God in our lives. (I mentioned the Little House thing) Barkley had a real church. Partly because our time together was unexpected and fabulous we wondered what was up. Did God have a plan? Have we been friends for years and live other lives until now so that we would become the men we are today? Thus, bringing our separate, yet somehow related stories to the same party.

Times have changed. Walnut Grove has a Wal-Mart where the Olson's store used to be. Everyone is refinancing the farm and moving to the "Mill" that is now Walnut groovy-loft style apartments. We think God and all his friends are busy too. We allege that in heaven, the suburbs of the universe, God is having a party with all the Gods. Buddha, Ra, Mahatma, Ala and many others are in attendance to have a drink, resolve that God is the most popular and everybody likes him the most. (We all have a friend like that. I'm sure.) They laugh and talk and watch us like an interactive 'MTV The Real World'. Only they can make things happen. Like if you ruin the show. They kill you off. As in you die. Sometimes this is the plan and they say "I just hate that Rush Linball, I know lets get him addicted to pharmaceuticals" Everyone agrees, they laugh and it happens. Other times, the Gods are drunk. Nations go to war good people get run over by a former Miss America.

It is to be Known from this day forward as the Universal Cocktail Party! I would like to think heaven is a party and no one has to work the next day and the music is good and the lighting is flattering form every angle. Urns of your favorite libation seems to magically stay "half full". When you arrive the Gods say "Oh my God!" And wink at you..."That time your car stalled and you were late to work and got fired, I did that because the car was about to explode from the fuel leak and you needed to leave that dead end job anyway and you my friend would have stayed there for another three years if I 'I mean WE,' had not done something! For each time in your life you said "Why is this happening to me?" It is explained to the best of his or her recollection.

The Gods love prayers like fan mail. Hell means you are the caterer or service staff.

Although I have not been in a church for years other than to do flowers for a wedding, I feel God in my life and do appreciate his or her humor. I ask questions and hope for guidance. And yes I do wonder what the 'UCP' has in store some days and wonder why I ordered drapes wrong twice! It is a modern yet similar faith to that of the Ingals family that I allow to guide my life. More good than bad.

May the UCP bless us all, and invite us to the party in about fifty years.