Nuggets of Humor in Our Sad Holiday

While I was over at Mom's the other night, "being attentive" as she calls it, an old friend of hers called....

Wait, I'm going to tell the story backwards because either way it's going to be a long story that may only be amusing to a small select group of people who knew me WAY back when...

When I was in high school, I really liked to hang out with people and play cards on my mother's GOOD Oriental rug in the fancy living room. (Many of my friend's may recall the blue couch in that room its glory days. Someone will have explain why THAT was the most appealing spot. I always picked the floor.) And the card game we always played was Egyptian Rat Screw. (HP2 recently reminded me how to play this game, and it sent me warping back in time. Feel free to email me and I will tell you how to play. No charge!)

For the longest time, my most regular partner at the game was a dude who shared the name of a summer blockbuster starring Brad Pitt. We really got into playing and had a lot of fun. Many people often thought we should date or thought that we already were. But we weren't and wouldn't -- we never even kissed. But, we sure had a lot of laughs. Maybe that's why? But it never would have worked out because he was a raging Southern Baptist and I was a raging nothing. Until I became a raging Episcopalian. You know how nutty THOSE guys are! Boy, did he try to SAVE me time and time again. Was forever preaching. And had some of the same hypocrisies you often hear about Evangelical ministers -- running after women, sneaking around, telling lies to his parents whom he was supposed to be honoring. So, it was hard to take his preaching seriously. Which, of ourse, I told him.

Years pass, I move away and make all those egregious errors that I made in the past. Yadda yadda yadda, get over those errors, move back to town, yadda yadda yadda, meet and marry the love of my life, my father dies and that brings us back to date. Where I was over at my Mom's house when an old friend called...

She was this lady who was always a little wacky and usually drunk and just a tad slutty who my parents let act as my guardian on many NUMEROUS occasions. Ahhh, the 70's -- don't you miss 'em? She's just heard the news and OH MY GAWD, she's just sooo sorry. And "your poor mother" and how did it HAP-pen? And on and on.* Apparently she heard the news from the neighbor down the street. The mother of the very same guy I used to play cards with. The preacher.

Turns out the preacher became a monk. Can you IMAGINE? How do you go from womanizing Southern baptist to a motherfucking monk?? Don't think I wouldn't ask him that if he called! Because I would. How could I not?? The crazy lady said that when the family heard the news, he asked for my phone number so he could call. Can you imagine? What circle of hell will I wind up in if I say motherfuck to a Monk? Is there a book on this? Because I can't stand it -- I just can't!!

So, that was my nugget of humor in some of the sad days...

-hl



*(Sidenote over my last sidenote from my last blog... Now, I can not only write about Bridezilla madness and what you can and can't say to a bride or about a wedding that I never realized... I can also write about Surreal Funeral Timeframe, where nothing seems real and people say the most ludicrous things out of a desperate attempt to try to give you comfort when you both feel so sad that you know that they can't say anything and how you wish they could. Asking how did it happen is not always the best way to go in this time frame, I have learned this. I KNOW you want to know, but can you imagine how much I really don't want to talk about it??)