Spiritual blonde moment

July 2, 2007 at 3:51 pm (Uncategorized)

I just realized a name for my cluelessness the other day – it was a spiritual blonde moment.  I wonder if you can get it in a bottle – like Clairol Number 5?

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Saint Idiocracy

July 2, 2007 at 2:31 am (Social Justice)

So, I need to just stay away from the river front.  The last time I was there, I tried to be Saint Sara Lee with the bread and homeless.  Last night I took the little guy for a walk along another stretch of the river.  We were watching the local sailing school students launch and sail boats.  Very interesting and I was quite envious! 

We are watching one boat that had been doing fairly well as it came back to the levee and the woman’s face had a very large port-wine birth mark-it covered the entire right side of her face and part of her left.  It was practically fluorescing against the white sail.  My mind began to race with how this would be an opportunity to teach the little guy compassion and start to work on how you answer the very honest yet totally un-PC questions kids loudly ask.   Plus I am going to show this woman that she is a beloved child of God (and how nice I am!!) by you know, pretending it’s not there. 

So, I am watching-slightly interpret that as unabashedly staring, with my best casual interpretation of a “you are lovely” smile on my face.  They had a hard landing into the levee-sheesh-they definitely need a few more lessons!  And then I notice that the port-wine birth mark goes all the way down her arm and the back of her hand.  Her left hand is held up half shielding her face-probably a self-conscious gesture she has perfected after what must have been intense years of being teased by kids.  She is out of the boat quickly and just as she turns to walk briskly toward the clubhouse, our eyes meet.  I am sure the heavens opened ever so briefly and she felt God’s love pour into her soul from my smile, except I missed it because she was covered in blood!

No birth mark, no tormented childhood, not an anguished soul looking for someone to finally look at her and not turn away like she is Quazimoto, pehaps she was wishing for faster reflexes when the mast must have swung during a jib and smacked a 2 inch gash in her forehead causing blood to pour all down her face.  I was too stunned at my idiocracy to move, and by the time I was able to break the stupid spell she was half way to the clubhouse.

So, I had stood there and stared at a woman with a huge gash in her forehead instead of offering to help her out of the boat, or to the clubhouse, or tie down the boat so her husband could go with her…Or even ask if she was ok.

Seriously, the bizarre thing is I don’t even have to work at being this-I can’t even find a word to encompass it-clueless, stupid, self-absorbed, weird…good grief.

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