Back to back jacks!

The Cubs got back-to-back homeruns tonight for the first time this season. Yea! Go, Cubs, go!

And the groom wore yellow feathers in his hair ...

... and a dress cut down to there.

So this man is gay. The news broke this week that Barry Manilow has been secretly married to his manager. A man.

Female Fanilows -- primarily post-menopausal women -- are shocked because they didn't know he was gay. Look at that photo. They didn't know. Okeedokee. Some insist that since Barry himself hasn't officially confirmed the marriage, it's just a filthy lie and the man in this photo is straight. Okeedokee.

I find this very sad.

First, Barry Manilow is now 71 years old. He didn't just "become" homosexual. So he's been in the closet all his adult life. He waited until now -- when he's well over the age to begin collecting Social Security and on his farewell tour -- to finally marry the lover he's been with for decades. And he's still not announcing and openly celebrating his relationship. There's something poignant about that.

Secondly, his fans are pissed. Not all of them, of course. The man has sold a staggering number of records (hell, even I bought one) and many are wishing him well. But others are truly upset.

"I'm unhappy he lied to his fans for 40 years and wasn't honest years ago at the gay bath house he and Bette Midler played. But I'll forgive him & move on and pray that God forgives him too!"

Doesn't look prepared to kick ass, does he?

"Barry is going to sue! Barry needs to get them good for doing this to him!"

"Who's the low life that started this ridiculous story? They're in for it now!"

I've been a fan girl all my life, beginning with my pre-school crush on Little Joe Cartwright. So in a way, I can tap into the Fanilow mindset.* I suppose I understand how they'd feel betrayed. I'm told that onstage he really plays to the ladies, presenting himself as something of a romantic ideal, and every night the competition is fierce to be the CSWY Girl -- the one he plucks from the audience to dance with during "Can't Smile without You."

What makes me sad is the implicit homophobia in some of these posts. Is "gay" really the worst thing you can accuse a person of? In 2015? Maybe Manilow was right to not trust his fans with the truth.  

Obviously Barry Manilow brought these women a lot of joy. His music meant something to him in a very real way. Clearly it's not my cup of tea, but that's not the point. The man who sang the love songs that set their hearts a pitter patter has found love himself.  

I wish they could be happy that he's finally found what he's been singing about.

*Though I insist that Michael Landon is far more attractive than Barry Manilow ever was, and maintain that at age 3 I had better taste, and a more finely tune gaydar, than the some Fanilows.

 

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

1) This song asks, "Does anybody really care about time?" How about you? Do you pride yourself on being punctual? Or don't you really care? I take public transportation, so I'm used to adhering to a schedule. The only thing I really struggle with is getting to the office in the morning. Nothing really happens before 10:00. All anyone does between 9:00 and 10:00 is wait in line at Starbucks. I can't see racing around the house in the morning to ride and over crowded train to watch people just mill around with cups in their hands. So I get in around 9:45.
 
2) The lyrics refer to a stranger asking the time. When is the last time you

conversed with someone you didn't really know? What did you two talk about? I got a pedi Friday evening after work. The owner's very young son was hanging around me by the UV nail dryer. He showed off his leaping skills by jumping over my shoes. I praised his talents and he wished me a good night ("bye bye") as I put on my coat.

3) According to the Top 40 tracker Tunecaster, this song knocked Tony Orlando and Dawn's "Knock Three Times" out of the #1 spot on the charts in January 1971. Are you familiar with "Knock Three Times?" Yes. It's awful, though not as bad as their more famous and more obnoxious follow up, "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree."

4) Chicago is not only the name of the group but also of the midwest's largest city. Chicago is the proud hometown of such luminaries as Bill Murray, Michelle Obama and Derrick Rose. Does your town have any favorite sons or daughters? Ernest Hemingway was born and grew up here. A rather dreadful girl, currently one of the defendants in a high-profile murder trial in Bali, is also from here, but we prefer to talk to Hemingway.

5) The group Chicago was originally known as The Chicago Transit Authority, after the city's public transportation system. When is the last time you were on a bus or a train? I take the train every day, twice a day, to and from work.

6) Four of the original seven bandmembers are still with the group … after 48 years! What's the longest you stayed at the same job? I've been at this one 10.5 years. That's really unheard of in advertising. I'd like to hang onto it as long as I can.

7) Lead singer Rob Lamm confessed that, at times, being in a band has been hard for him because he is by nature a loner. How about you? Are you more introverted or extroverted? Introverted. Being around too many people too long exhausts me. I need alone time to recharge.

8) This summer, Chicago will be touring with Earth, Wind and Fire. Have you seen/will you attend any concerts in 2015? I'm going to see old what's-his-name at Lollapalooza this summer. Gulp. Talk about being around too many people! Oh well, it's Sir Paul. Plus my 14-year-old nephew is the envy of all his friends because he's going to Lolla with the coolest aunt in the world.

 9) Random question: What's the last mess you cleaned up? I scooped the litterboxes. That counts, right?

Vacation prep

Soon I'll be off for a long weekend in Los Angeles. While it's not my first choice for a spring vacay, it's certainly not the worst thing that can happen to a gal, either. My oldest friend and I will go shopping, go to the movies, and take in some sites I just can't see here in Chicagoland -- maybe

Hollywood, maybe the ocean. We'll see.

To help me get my head into this trip, this evening I got my spring pedi. Essie Tart Deco. It's a light shade of coral. I think I like it. I'm still not 100% used to the brighter look, but change can be good and soon Los Angelenos will be gazing at it.

And I got a portable DVD player. ORD-LAX can take (gulp!) four hours. That's just too damn long for a white-knuckled flyer, like me. Books, magazines and meds can't keep me calm. So I'll let this little 7" screen distract me and keep me sane. Also, with more and more people streaming videos and the new MacBooks not having a slot for DVDs/CDs, I figured I'd better snap up a DVD player when they're still being manufactured. The one I chose is by Philips, new and not refurbished, and still just

$60. I have to remember to pack DVDs (I always forget to pack something!) and that the TSA wants me to take it out of my carry on when I go through security.

The "Because You Annoy Me" Edition

I'm glad this week has come to an end. I've been out of sorts and easy to rile, though I think I've kept that to invisible to others. Which is good. No one needs to see that. But, since a wound can't heal until it's cleansed, I'm getting all the debris out here in this post.

1) Congratulations. You just said the completely wrong thing! Michelle, the New Girl, has a good heart, a sharp intellect and a very, very big mouth. On Tuesday, when the topic of the plane crash came up, she was more than a little heartless. It was all unwitting -- after all, she didn't realize how many of us had a connection to one of the victims -- and afterward she must have felt terrible, so I let it go. But naturally, I was unsettled and pissed.

2) But no, you don't. Really, you don't. One of my more annoying coworkers -- though this week it must be admitted everyone was annoying me -- was bragging on herself. Again. This time she was telling Michelle, the New Girl, that she has a "photographic memory." Bull. Shit. I am the woman's short term memory. She never remembers anything we've worked on, or who the account team was, or ... or ... or ... She bases her brag on her ability to recall the moment, when she was in pre-school, that she helped her mother hang sheets on the line in the backyard. She can't even remember what happened immediately before or after she helped Mom. Over and over this week, when I had to remind her of something, I wanted to ask, "But what happened to your photographic memory?"

3) Are you fucking kidding me? Right after I heard about the plane crash, my oldest friend confessed that she had been too depressed to get out of bed over the weekend, meaning she missed Easter because of the blues. She moved 2000 miles to California specifically to spend holidays with her beloved cousin Sharon and instead of doing so, she stayed in bed? And her cousin Sharon didn't drive over to see what was wrong? I didn't think I could be more annoyed by this until she told me what triggered her depressive episode: Peter Falk died. In 2011. She never met Peter Falk and gave him little thought during his lifetime. But she and I have recently gotten into the Columbo reruns on Me-TV, and realizing he was gone sent her into a tailspin. On the one hand, I'm thinking of a woman who is faced with the most crushing circumstances I can imagine, and on the other hand, I'm listening to another who isn't doing the bare minimum (like getting out of bed and driving to her cousin's) to make herself happy.

I know that's unfair. I know my oldest friend's depression is a disease, and expecting her to "snap out of it" is like expecting someone to "snap out of" asthma or diabetes. I also know that she was trusting me when she told me about Peter Falk, trusting me to understand and not mock. And so I didn't mock and tried to understand. But I was still tres annoyed. Privately. To myself. But yes, even though she couldn't hear me, when she told me about Peter Falk my inner voice was screaming, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

So what's been wrong with me this week? I haven't been feeling well. My twisted ankle (now nearly two weeks old) is healing well but slowly. I think I miss working out. I'm still learning how to manage my GERD. I was felled by a migraine Wednesday morning. And yes, that plane crash has been haunting me.

But the week is over. And now I'm going to face forward, enjoy my weekend, and try to have a happy weekend and a better week.

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #237

 

Reflections on my little madman on his 11th birthday

1) I adopted Reynaldo from an animal shelter in November 2004. He was estimated to be about 7 or 8 months old at the time, which means he was probably born in April 2004.

2) The shelter volunteers called him Houdini because he had rather deftly figured out how to get out of his cage. I should have known then what I was getting into.

3) During our first meeting, he leaped out of my arms and attached himself to the side of the cage that held the rabbits also up for adoption. I should have known then what I was getting into.

4) I renamed him Reynaldo Curtis, after my then #1 TV boyfriend, the detective Benjamin Bratt played on Law and Order.

5) He answers to "Rey," "Rey-Rey" and "Reynaldo." For all the faults I'm about to list, it must be said that he reliably responds when called.

6) Rey has an astonishing need for my attention that has not abated with time. The vet says he is "unusually attached" to me.

7) This manifests itself by waking me up at all hours of the night, just to get me to interact with him. He eats my hair, cries at the ceiling, or knocks things off my dresser one-by-one until I awaken.

8) He hates it when I'm on the computer or on the phone -- or basically doing anything that doesn't directly involve him. To distract me, he likes to knock things off the dining room table or living room end table. He does this even though he knows it will get him banished to solitary confinement behind the bedroom door. He can't help himself, he's compelled.

9) In his quest to capture and hold my attention he has been quite destructive. He's destroyed picture frames and ripped the curtain rods out of the wall (resulting in plasterwork and repainting). He also did an impromptu dance on my electric stove, turning on one of the burners, which was scary. That's why the stove's control panel is now gusseted in bubble wrap. It gives the appliance an unusual look, but it's better than letting him burn the building down.

10) He has a box of balls and catnip toys at his disposal, and yet he finds it more intriguing to torment me.

11) His liveliness makes him a good playmate for Connie, my two year old cat. Though they used to be boxing buddies, my 20-year-old tomcat Joey now finds Rey's tomfoolerly increasingly tiresome.

12) Rey has no temper. None whatsoever. I can clip his nails or shove pills down his gullet and he's fine with it. A neighbor kid once lifted Reynaldo up by his tail -- which had to hurt -- and he was very patient about it.

13) When he's a good boy, curled up upon his kitty condo, I realize he's adorable and well worth all the trouble.

Please join us for The NEW THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

Afraid

I'm afraid of how much today's news frightens me. I'm afraid of how much it will hurt if I let it.

For years my agency employed a freelance writer, a happily married mother of two who was content to work from her downstate home. We all loved her. The client loved her. She was referred to often today as "a good egg." She had integrity and warmth and dignity. When the project she was working on ended and we had to let her go, she sent a tray of cupcakes over to the office to thank us for the opportunity.

I reached out to her after she was let go. She told me it was just as well, because she could use the extra time to drive her kids to their sporting events. Her husband was so proud and pleased that their children were such jocks.

Today I found out her husband, age 45, was killed instantly in a small plane crash. He and 6 friends were flying back from seeing the NCAA finals and their plane lost its way in the fog. I saw the photo of the wreckage. It's sickening.

His Twitter account is still up. His last tweet was about Wisconsin and Duke.

This should not have happened to her. She is a good person. She deserves better from life than losing her life partner, than trying to shield her kids from the horror of that photo of crumpled steel.

I am reminded of Elizabeth Edwards' words of wisdom -- God promises us enlightenment and eternal life. He doesn't promise us protection or an easy ride.

Isn't she lovely?

All winter, Wrigley Field has been under construction. We've all heard rumors about the renovation, how drastic it would be, how after all the modernization the Friendly Confines won't be the same fabulous old girl we've all come to love.

Well, tonight the park was unveiled and all I can say is BAH! The bricks are covered with green ivy and the iconic, manually operated scoreboard remains. So it's still my Wrigley Field.

And so tonight it begins again. My Cubs are back and hope springs eternal. Maybe this year will be THE YEAR!

Who's a Good Girl?

Connie is a good girl!

We went to the vet yesterday, only our second trip in her 10 months living here. I didn't know how she'd be, either in transit or at the office. But she did fine. She's healthy enough -- her eye has cleared up nicely, her heart and lungs are good. Her gums are a bit bloody, though. The vet suggests that might be residual damage from the bad diet she endured at her previous home with a hoarder in Indiana.

Thinking about the condition she was in when she was arrived at the local shelter here -- emaciated, pregnant, with light sensitive eyes because of FVR -- makes me proud and happy that I'm able to give her the stable life she deserves.

Happy Easter

It's such a holy time of year. Passover ... Good Friday ... Easter.  I was preoccupied this morning with thoughts of freedom, faith, and love. It seemed so fitting that it was cloudy when I went into church but then was greeted by sunny blue skies when I emerged.

Just a coupla chicks, sitting around and talking

I met my niece for lunch at Olive Garden, my mother/her grandmother's favorite restaurant. It was the first time either of us had been back since she passed in Autumn, 2012. We agreed it was a nice way to think of her this Easter.

She told me about her impending breakup with her boyfriend. They're still living together, but it's platonic and only until she can get her own place.

As her college years grind to an end, she told me about her career aspirations. I'm jealous of her optimism and ambition. She isn't sure if she wants to stay in Michigan -- which she thinks is so beautiful with its lakes and beaches -- or come back here because it's home. And because there are so many more professional opportunities here.

She told me that she just discovered Friends on Netflix and is totally into it. Her favorite is Chandler. I think this is great.

I love her so much and really enjoyed the one-on-one time with her.

Well, it's advertising

This past week was tough at work. Three people from our team were let go. The official reason was the "aggregate." One of our clients (not the account we work on) was supposed to be involved in a merger, but it turned out to be a takeover, leaving our agency without billing.

I don't believe that's why one of the three was let go. Crazy smart, he was rumored to have a drinking problem. I suspect the agency used the layoffs as an excuse to rid themselves of a headache.

I'll never know, though. It's advertising. This happens all the time. I'm grateful that I have retained enough humanity to still be shocked.

Sunday Stealing

The More Or Less Meme

3 (or more, or less!) things... 

1. ...you cannot live without.  Cable, internet, books

2. ...you CAN live without, but cannot seem to part with. iPod, Farmville 2, and ice cream

3. ...you wish to accomplish this COMING week.  Pick up Connie the Cat's prescription, return to the gym, begin The Big Project at work

4. ...you have accomplished this PAST week.  Paid bills, stayed within my budget, got my heavy winter coat cleaned and put away until next year

5. ...on your holiday (or non-holiday) 'wish list.' New headphones, a portable DVD player (before they stop making them) and a new phone

6. ...you would like to change about yourself.  Reduce my waist, be healthier, be more patient

7. ...you like about yourself. I'm smart, loyal and funny

8. ...you should be doing right now instead of what you ARE doing. Scrubbing the tub, putting away my winter clothes, dusting

9. ...in your life that could use a little more organization. My finances, my refrigerator, my wallet

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Easter Parade ("In Your Easter Bonnet")

1) This song is about a special Easter hat to be worn with your "Sunday best." Will you be getting dressed up this weekend? Well, I'll swap my sweatshirt for a sweater for Sunday service, but other than that, no.

2) Sam is not crazy about hats because she cannot stand "hat hair." Do you have a lot of hats or caps? "Hat hair" is precisely why I prefer hoods and earmuffs.

3) This song was inspired by New York City's Easter Parade. Does your community host a similar event? I admire New Yorkers for doing this every year. After all, Easter weather is very unpredictable. Maybe that's why we don't have such a parade.

4) On April 6, President Obama and Michelle will host lucky children for the 137th White House Easter Egg Roll. Which are your favorite eggs: colored hard-boiled eggs, chocolate marshmallow eggs, or plastic eggs with coins inside? My favorites were always the ones with the coins inside. It's one of the few things I remember fondly about holidays with my other "icky" Grandma. She hid plastic money eggs. And at Christmas, she let me do glass wax stencils on her kitchen window pane. Every other memory I have of her is bad.




5) How about Peeps? Would you rather have yellow chicks or pink bunnies? Not a big Peeps fan. Sorry.

6) The biggest chocolate Easter egg was made in Italy, measured 34 feet tall and weighed a staggering 15,000 lbs. Do you thinks it's possible to have too much chocolate? It's difficult to eat too much chocolate, but if you work hard at it, it can be done. I've had the tummy aches to prove it.

7) Jelly beans are also popular this time of year. A 2013 poll tells us that red is by far the favorite jelly bean color, with yellow a distant second. Do you have a preference? Green. Purple is good, too.

8) We've been talking a lot about sweets this morning. The only holiday that generates more candy sales is Halloween. When do you eat more candy: Easter or Halloween? Halloween.

9) Easter is considered the season of rebirth. What makes you feel refreshed or rejuvenated?  Going to church. Washing my hair also, to borrow from The Stylistics, makes me feel brand new. I like that song better than "Easter Parade," so let's close with it.



Happy Easter!

THURSDAY THIRTEEN #236

THIRTEEN 

TOP-SELLING 

SECOND HAND BOOKS

I think there's something romantic about a used book. Who owned it before? Why did they part with it? 

If you feel like I do, here's a site you should know about: Abe Books. There you will find hardcovers and paperbacks, text books and best sellers. Many of the books have been rescued from libraries. All are reasonably priced and a great way to feed your bookish habit.

Recently they posted their bestselling used books of this young century. Here are the top 13. I've read #2, #3, and #9. What about you?

1. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen R. Covey
2. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
3. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
4. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
5. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
6. The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman
7. The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
8. Night by Elie Wiesel
9. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
10. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling
11. Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell
12. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling
13. Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook

Please join us for The NEW THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

Don't do this

I twisted my ankle while running for the bus last Saturday. It still hurts. So if you can avoid being a klutz like me, I recommend you do so.

I've read that sprains can take up to 6 weeks to heal completely. I guess I should count myself lucky that after just three days, the swelling has gone down, I can put weight on it and walk on it -- though going down stairs hurts like a son of a bitch.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

This meme is no more. And yet I persist in answering the three questions it asked each week. Stubborn, ain't I?

1. What are you currently reading? Remember Me Like This by Bret Anthony Johnston. Just started it and all I can say is, "Wow." Everything about it is unique and memorable.

•  The premise: What happens to a family if they get their wish and abducted kid is recovered and returned to them? Yes, one of those "Have You Seen Me?" milk carton kids -- an 11-year-old boy -- is found four years later. What is that like? The questions … The scrutiny … The trial and punishment of the kidnapper … The seismic shift in family dynamics … all of it is explored.

•  The characters. Each of the five central family members -- the boy, his parents, his brother and his grandfather -- is uniquely and skillfully drawn.

•  The prose. Mr. Johnston turns a beautiful phrase. It's a pleasure to read, even if the story is intense.

2. What did you recently finish reading? Wake by Anna Hope. Another emotionally intense story by another talented first-time novelist. This is about three women living in London and dealing with the aftermath of "the war," aka WWI. But that's the thing of it. We know what they do not -- that while they put their shattered lives back together as best they can in the 1920s, it will all come apart again too soon when WWII breaks out and hits much closer to home.

 

 3.  What will you read next? I can't wait to return to  Frank: The Voice by James Kaplan. I started reading this book as my own way of celebrating Sinatra's centennial (he would turn 100 this September). I had no idea I'd enjoy it as much as I am.

 

What an artist. What a rascal. Kaplan writes well and pays attention to both Frank's auspicious talent and his audacious life. It's just it's 800 pages long, and I wanted to take a break and read something else before going back to it.

And I shall. This accounting of Sinatra's life is too entertaining and too uniquely American for me not to finish it.

Not the letter I expected ...

In mid-March I wrote to my Cousin Rose, telling her that I would be busy throughout Memorial Day weekend but would love to spend a few hours with her. All of this was a lie. I have no plans for Memorial Day. I just don't want her staying with me.

I hated doing this. Rose loves me and her heart is tender and dear. The thing of it is, though, she's maddeningly grumpy. Ever since her painful divorce, she's been short-tempered, judgmental and intolerant. I can't stand being around her for more than four or five hours at a crack. (Really, I timed it.)

I felt so bad about lying to her that I've actually had nightmares about it. I have so much respect for her as a person, and I so honor how she stood by me when I was growing up, that this dilemma has really hurt.

So yesterday, when I saw the envelope with her familiar scrawl across the front, I was more than a little nervous. I was afraid that she'd seen through my lie and that I'd hurt her. 

Nope. That wasn't it at all. It was a short, chatty and surprisingly upbeat letter about NCIS (a passion we share) and how eager she is to receive the results of her DNA test so she can find out once and for all if she's more Germanic or English (genealogy is her #1 hobby.)

I feel so much better about life right now. Tonight might be the first really restful night's sleep I've had in a while!

It's really quite a compliment

Last year, I took my friend John to Wrigley Field for his birthday and he had a wonderful time. So, of course, predictably, did I. After all, I can think of no place on earth I'd rather be on a warm, dry day than within the Friendly Confines. But I was surprised by how much he enjoyed it. Even though he and I aren't very demonstrative, he hugged me frequently during that celebration day and has since referred to it as "a perfect day."

So this year I'm taking him to a game again. This time the Cubs happen to be home on his actual birthday. I was surprised that it took him a couple days to get back to me with his RSVP.

Turns out it's because we'll be at the ballpark for his 60th birthday. He called and said there was nowhere he'd rather be, and no one he'd rather celebrate it with.

Wow. I'm not only happy to be delivering something to him that matters to him, I'm flattered that he'd rather spend his landmark birthday with me than with anyone else.

Old friends. I tell you, they're the best.

Sunday Stealing

The Dirty Dozen Meme

1. This weather is really..... sunny. Yea!

2. You think you've seen it all, you should see me.... wiggle my ear. It's delighted the generations of children I've babysat.

 3. I'm sure you would still love me even if... you saw what a terrible housekeeper I am.

 4. I think I have finally realized... that not everyone needs to hear every thought I have.

 5. Since the last time we linked up... um, this is embarrassing but I wasn't aware that we had linked up.

 6. I get super embarrassed... when anyone hears me sing.

 7. I really thought by now... I'd be more domestically inclined.

8. If I thought no one would read it, I would write about... There really isn't anything. This humble blog pretty much sums me up.

9. I knew I was in the wrong place... when I saw two pairs of shoes under the bathroom stall door, and they were facing in the same direction.

10. I am so not above... reality TV.

11. Let's pretend... that tonight will live forever if we close our eyes and believe it might come true. So darling, darling, hold me ... (I'm such a sap for a love song.)



12. Just you wait... Henry Higgins, just you wait!

I'd like my faith back, please

I am both patriotic and Christian. Like Thomas Jefferson and John F. Kennedy, I believe strongly in the separation of Church and State. I don't think either my faith or my country is well-served when the State is too formally infused by the Church.

I'm offended by neighboring Indiana using my faith to sanction bigotry against gays. Yes, I know scripture can be quoted that damns homosexuality. But scripture can also be quoted about not touching pigskin, which means every Notre Dame football player is going to Hell and the concussive brain damage former NFL players are suffering is a punishment from God. So let's not even go there. 

I remember watching, slack jawed, in 2012 when Rev. Franklin Graham talked about how Newt Gingrich was a "Christian candidate" because he's a (twice divorced) Catholic but the Mormon Mitt Romeny wasn't. I can't foresee any eventuality that would have me voting for Mitt Romney, but I admire the way he has raised his sons and honors his wife. Romney says he believes in Christ and that's between him and Jesus. There's no Gal in that equation. It's offensive that any mortal would try to insert themselves into a relationship so personal and so dear.

And then there was the incident that made me want to "throw up," when Rick Santorum went off on JFK's landmark 1960 speech about his Catholic faith. Then-candidate Kennedy said he believed in an America that wasn't officially Catholic, Protestant or Jewish, where "where religious liberty is so indivisible that an act against one church is treated as an act against all." Is Santorum's own faith so fragile that the acknowledgement of others threatens it?

I look at the countries where there is a state religion, and I'm proud to say that as Americans, we've got it all over them.

This is the week that leads up to Easter. Obviously the Resurrection is very, very important to me. The message to me is that love ultimately conquers all. After all, God's love for us overcame His son's death, giving us Eternal Life. So yes, in my heart I believe that Christianity is the most wonderful, true and joyous way to live.

But that's in my heart. Not in my ballot box. Not in my legislature. The way my neighbors worship isn't, and shouldn't, be my business.

And please, Indianans, don't go discriminating in the name of my Christian faith. Thank you.

A Saturday in Spring

It was cold -- about 30º -- but dry and sunny. I dragged my big old down coat to the cleaners and took Frank Sinatra to the coffee shop for eggs scrambled with ham and read about how he managed to avoid military service in WWII.*

I got home and was lazy, indulging in a little Bonanza (thank you Me-TV) and taking a nap. Then I hurried to the bus stop so I could use my last Goodwill Sale coupons at Carson's. I sprained my ankle crossing the busy street to the catch the bus. It didn't bother me much while I was shopping.

I refreshed my sock drawer (1 navy, 1 light blue and 3 black) and bought some Clinique for myself and my niece. I also picked up a pair of bracelets at crazy low prices. Less than $15! I'm giving the "friendship" bracelet to Mindy for her November birthday because she always says I'm "a friend for the ages." I'm giving my oldest friend the "love/laugh" bracelet because 1) no one makes me laugh like she does and 2) she needs to remember she's not alone because she has me. My oldest friend's birthday isn't until December. I must remember where I put these bracelets! That's the downside to doing my shopping in advance.

I still had some coupons left and forgot I could have used them on carsons.com. Dammit! Oh well. I got bargains and Goodwill got donations so it's all good.

Then I stopped at Tony's. It's a local grocery chain -- less than a dozen stores -- that has a much bigger and cheaper selection than my usual haunts, Whole Foods and Trader Joe's. I seldom shop there because the bus ride to and fro adds $4.50 to my grocery bill. Hell, I can have a whole order delivered by Peapod for $6! But since Carson's is walking distance to Tony's, I figured what the hell. I was quite happy with my purchases in the meat department, my Sara Lee bread (I like white bread, so sue me!) and the less-than-a-dollar addition I picked up for the food pantry (Idaho Spuds Mashed Potato Mix). It's crazy how much I enjoy shopping new grocery stores, but I do.

I got home and my ankle started hurting like crazy. When I was at the store, it was stiff but fine. Once I stopped shopping … ow, ow, ow! That tells you something about retail therapy, doesn't it?

I watched the Columbo marathon on the Hallmark Mystery Channel until I went to bed. Happy to see it's still on this morning. I never watched Columbo when it was on the first time and find it Monk-like and charming. Also, with all the news stories about the German plane crash, I need escapism. I'll be flying to LA in a few weeks, and if I think too much about that crash I'll have an even harder time getting on that plane to the coast.

*He was 4F, a classification that was controversial at the time.