I live in a bubble

I live in a bubble, I really do.

I am a far-left Democrat in the most Blue state in the nation. I don't think the Democrats who run Connecticut are liberal enough, but they're Democrats so I'll forgive them.

Then I hear about these "Protection of Religious Freedom" acts in Indiana and then Arkansas and I am frankly baffled, bewitched, bothered and bewildered.

My first question is, how on God's green earth (which we're destroying) can there be that many people in the legislatures of two states to pass such ass-backwards (I can't spell "asinine") laws?

Then, calming down just a bit, I think, 'wait a minute, those people in state legislatures got elected by people in those states!!!'

Oh, my Lord, how can there be enough assholes to elect the other assholes to pass such asshole laws?

Then I realize: I live in a bubble.

Dannel Malloy (yes his first name is spelled that way) was the first Governor to restrict state money being spent for people to travel to Indiana, in reaction to that law that would have allowed businesses to discriminate against GLBTQ folks. Dannel is the governor of my ultra-Blue, bubble state. Of course he would do that because he lives in the same bubble I live in--Connecticut.

The nation I fly over from time to time to get to the Left Coast, is different from the Connecticut Bubble I live in.

This is good to know.

No longer will I think I am 'the norm' in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

There is still much to do to expand my liberal, inclusive, re-distribute the wealth, 'everyone makes it or no-one does' bubble.

Which, I am convinced, is where we all should live--in that kind of left-wing egalitarian bubble.

God help me.

I truly believe that's right.

Ponder it for yourself....

Must see....

If you have HBO or 'on demand' find "Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief" and watch it.

I've always disliked Scientology and their ridiculous 'non-profit' status as a 'church'. But after seeing these two hours, I am outraged enough to write to my Senators and Representative to have them push to take away Scientology's non-profit status.

Watch this and you'll do that too.

I won't even try to describe it because I can't. It has to be seen to believed.

(I often told people who wanted to criticize 'cults' that my friend joined one which made her cut her hair, told her what to wear, put her where they wanted and generally 'controlled' her whole life without her permission....She was a Sister of Mercy. Be careful using the word "Cult", I always told people.)

But, in this case feel free.....

So, see it.....

dog dna

The dog that shares (runs?) our lives is a Puli--a breed of Hungarian sheep dog. The national dog of Hungary, I've been told. (We had a Puli earlier {and didn't learn our lesson!} and I was walking him in New Haven when an old Hungarian man saw him and burst into tears....)

Puli's first came to Hungary with Atilla and decided they liked it better there than on the steppes of Mongolia.

Anyway, DNA runs deep in Puli's and they are genetically incapable of letting anyone leave the house without throwing a fuss. Bela's job, after all, in the keep the herd together and not let sheep wander away. It's a real pain: he throws his 50 pound body at you to try to keep you indoors....

When our children were small and we had Finney (who's real name was Templamkirte Palak Suba--bred in Hungary by a Jesuit priest..."Templamkirte" means 'church yard') he'd herd Josh and Mimi when we were in Wooster Park, circling and circling and keeping them inside the circle.

When our granddaughters are here, Bela is always laying in front of or across the nearest door. When they start running (we have back stairs as well as front stairs--a house built to make children run) Bela freaks out and either positions himself in front of the front door or porch door.

When you gather your things or put on a coat, he starts barking and dancing between you and the front door. Very annoying.

But today Bern was making a grocery list and asked me if I needed anything--no purse or coat in sight--and he started barking that way.

"Why is he barking?" I asked rhetorically.

"He knows I'm making a shopping list," Bern said calmly, 'and will be going soon.'

She gives him more credit than I do. But who knows how deep the herding DNA runs.

My kinda church...

The Right Reverend Marcus Bishop (which would make him 'Bishop Bishop', if I'm not mistaken, is the pastor of The Life Center: A Spiritual Community in some beach town in Florida.

During Spring Break this March, Bishop Bishop turned The Life Center into a club for Spring breakers with a 7 day, $20 a night, BYOB with naked painting and slumber parties.

The parties were called "Amnesia: The Tabernacle".

Ponder that if you dare!

Bishop even installed an ATM machine in front of the church in case college folk didn't bring cash to Florida.

County authorities didn't get the spiritual implications of nude body painting inspired by alcohol you brought with you and (spoil sports that they are) took The Life Center's tax exempt status away.

Shame on them! Spiritual folks like to party too! I'm sure at the drunken slumber parties they were discussing matters of the soul.

Man, you just can't hear enough about Florida, can you?

Marco Rubio, what a state you come from and what a state you're in. Marco could detract from my support for Ted Cruz who comes from only the second craziest state, Texas.

Falling down

So, I went through this whole ice and snow winter without falling down (thought this winter taught me I'm not 35 anymore...I walked slowly, carefully all winter).

And today, going out to get in my car, I slipped on black ice and fell in our driveway, loosing all my coffee from my Starbucks cup.

I fell on my knees and hands and laid there for a minute or so. I wondered if I had my cellphone to call Bern inside our house to come out and help me.

Mercifully, I didn't have my phone with me or it would have been another note on how I needed to go to "the Home".

After a minute or so, I got up and drove to Northford and Church.

Nothing hurts anymore--but for a minute or so there I thought, "I'm an old man who just fell down on black ice in his driveway on Palm Sunday."

Humbling that was.

And something to ponder--getting older....

Never before...perhaps never again....

When people ask me who is my favorite college sports teams I always say, "West Virginia University and whoever is playing Notre Dame."

I hate Notre Dame in an irrational way (I admit it). I'd like to think it is the arrogant thing and not the Roman Catholic thing...but, truth be known...I'm not sure.

But tonight for 2 hours, I rooted hard for Notre Dame to beat Kentucky in the NCAA Elite Eight basketball tournament. And they almost, but not quite (2 points) did.

It was liberating to root for the Fighting Irish for the first time in my life. It felt good, in many ways.

So who is my favorite sports teams?

West Virginia University and whoever is playing Notre Dame: unless Notre Dame is playing Kentucky.

That works for me.

Hanne

Tomorrow we're going to a 90th birthday 'tea'. Sounds fancy.

Hanna  Howard is turning 90. She is a remarkable woman. She was born in Germany and had a Jewish grandmother who was taken to the camps and never came back. She came to America and married Lee Howard.

Hanna and Lee were members of St. Paul's, New Haven when I was Rector there. Lee was the organist/choir director and Hanna was in the choir, even though she and Lee were divorced before I met them.Theirs was a divorce that defies the adage that one of the divorced couple "gets the church".
I always admired them for that.

Hanna is an accomplished musician herself--a pianist of no small measure. A long time ago--20 years maybe--she developed macular degeneration and is legally blind. But she still teaches and plays. Once a year or so I go to 'concerts' she gives in her home in Hamden. She still lives alone and manages to have a full life in spite of her limitations.

Every few months I go to her apartment and read her stuff I have written. She loves that--being read to since she can hardly read at all, even on her computer that has a special attachment for extra-large type, about five words a  page.

Once, when she still lived in New Haven, I was at her house and noticed she had a picture of Bern and Josh and Mimi and me on her cork board along with pictures of her children and grandchildren.

That was deeply moving to me, to realize she thought of us as 'family'.

Bern and I have no 'family' near by so we have Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter with our 'adopted family'. Hanna is on the Thanksgiving list. She loves to see Mimi and Tim, Josh and Cathy and our granddaughters.

"Adopted family" is really important to us. Bern told me when she and Sherry Ellis (where we were tonight for John Anderson's birthday dinner) went to Jacob's Pillow to visit Mimi, Mimi introduced Bern to a co-worker as 'my mother' and Sherry as 'my other mother'. Sherry, Bern said, fought to hold back tears of joy and wonder.

You can't 'choose' you blood family. But you can choose you're 'adopted family'--that may be why they're so important.

Do you have 'adopted family' in your life? I hope so. And ponder how fortunate you are if you do.