Who can resist the ululation of Nature on Labor Day? Hubbers and I sure couldn't--we had to drive our donkeys to the boonies for the sake of Love. A dear friend of ours decided to tie her knot in her ancestral home: The Big K: Klamath Falls: Hell With A Golf Course. Thankfully, some Wonder People from days of yore (aka college) were there and so we could be silly drunks together. Bride-friend looked Gee-Orgeous, and her wedding was truly American Traditional--she had it all: flower girl, fancy food, free booze (!), cloying-and-overly-long photo montage, DJ playing crappy music. Which is all lovely and fine, but it was completely impersonal. The whole shee-bang felt in no way about Bride-friend and her chosen Man-chop. It was textbook perfect, but totally unmemorable. Granted, that is my take on her wedding: what she thinks is faaaar more important.
Anyway, Hubbers and I had a really nice drive; some of our best conversations happen when neither of us can be pulled away by shiny, sparkly distractions. When we stopped for gas at Po-dunk Nowhere, we discovered that the 76 was also the local library/movie rental shoppe. It was the most bizarre juxtaposition of oil cans and books, instant cappuccino machine and books, powerbars and books, and cases of Bud and books. And the books were used (1) John Grishams, (2) Mary Higgins Clarks, (3) Janet Evanovichs, (4) Christian romance novels, and (5) Christian god-helping-you self-help tripe. They also sold T-shirts with slogans mingling pop-culture and holiness, like: Jesus died for MY SPACE in heaven. Ishy. What about being IN the world but not OF the world, you opportunistic business people hiding behind the cross?!?
Now that I am full of un-Righteous indignation, I shall go attack my yard! EEEEEEEEE!
Anyway, Hubbers and I had a really nice drive; some of our best conversations happen when neither of us can be pulled away by shiny, sparkly distractions. When we stopped for gas at Po-dunk Nowhere, we discovered that the 76 was also the local library/movie rental shoppe. It was the most bizarre juxtaposition of oil cans and books, instant cappuccino machine and books, powerbars and books, and cases of Bud and books. And the books were used (1) John Grishams, (2) Mary Higgins Clarks, (3) Janet Evanovichs, (4) Christian romance novels, and (5) Christian god-helping-you self-help tripe. They also sold T-shirts with slogans mingling pop-culture and holiness, like: Jesus died for MY SPACE in heaven. Ishy. What about being IN the world but not OF the world, you opportunistic business people hiding behind the cross?!?
Now that I am full of un-Righteous indignation, I shall go attack my yard! EEEEEEEEE!
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