The Big Decision (December 13, 2010)

. . .

S1       “Last night, while surveying the fare on AM radio, some wingnut decreed that we select our sexuality.  I’ve heard that comment a thousand times before and disregarded it without reflection.  Yet for the first time every other thought process stopped and focused on analyzing the allegation.”

S2       “An epiphany.”

S1       “Seems so.  The only life event I could uncover in my search is an episode in fourth grade when Mike’s mom had car pool duty.  After she tendered delivery of us to class to make sure we did not sneak off to the tree house again, Larry and I watched her slip away.  Both of us watched her walking on line across the playground and then looked at each other and then looked back at her and then looked at each other and then looked at her and then looked at each other and then looked at her until she disappeared into the distance.  Then we looked at each other.  I sensed that he sensed that something was going on; he sensed that I sensed that something was going on.  We did not know what to say; we did not say a word.”

S2       “Sounds ineffable.”

S1       “Speechless.  Especially at that age.  Life is coming at you real fast.  Mike selected his mom skillfully.”

S2       “In matters of health and wealth, pick your parents carefully.”

S1       “Looking back, she must have been between 32 and 36 and quite the looker, as graceful and gracile as Grace Kelly.  But I really don’t know that it was a formal deliberative process and reflective decision.  When did you decide?”

S2       “Beats me.  Never thought about it.”

. . .

Bumper stickers of the week:

What day did you decide?

I am, therefore I think

As I recall, I think the day that I decided would have been June 31 in the afternoon to the best of my recollection, as I recall.  I had thought about it for months.  It was a close call.  There were so many factors to weigh.

“Does a person select his or her sexuality?”  “It’s a state’s rights issue,” the candidate proclaimed with a vacant and feral look.

Don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t think; ask, tell, think

“You are what you are and you ain’t what you ain’t.”  “Dear Abby”  John Prine

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: