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A Bumper Sticker Wants to Make Me Cry. Again.

Bumper stickers: I love them, and am always buying them though seldom affixing them to the actual bumper of a car. Rather, a succession of ironic, witty, or just plain weird stickers have adorned cork boards in various offices and cubicles, excepting of course the years of obligatory Honor Student stickers, followed by, "My Daughter …

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Hair Time

"Avert your eyes. I'm not here. You're not seeing this," I hollered at Paul, still in the shower, as I sat on the edge of the tub, lathering my legs from the travel-size can of Barbasol my daughter left here last Christmas. Starting with the right leg I continued, "This is on the same continuum …

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First Love

He was the first boy I ever loved, my cousin Randy. Our mothers were sisters and close, and we'd been close since I don't even remember, since I was born. I can still see us in the pool one hot California summer day, I was maybe seven, he nine years old when Randy said he'd …

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Juneteenth

One Sunday morning it was June 19th, or Juneteenth, and Mother Freda Marie, a brilliant African-American woman and the assisting priest at my parish, asked us if we knew why the day was special, other than it being Sunday? Mine was the lone hand raised. This particular bit of history was specific to Texas, and …

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Happy Maternity Day

It's a tricky one, Mother's Day. It means well. It started out well and then, well, it met Capitalism and kind of lost it's way. In recent years some brave voices have quietly reminded us that all this in-your-face motherly fantasy, every May, does not bring unmitigated joy to all. I confess to being sometimes …

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Lent in the Wilderness

It's been a wilderness-y Lent. For the first time in maybe twenty years I am not affiliated with a parish and thus not busy with Wednesday Lenten Soup Suppers, programs, or public outreach projects, all the things that an Episcopal parish does during Lent, all the preparations I would normally be knee deep in heading …

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Helicopter-Crash Parenting

Praise the Lord for Caller ID and Voice Mail, which now spares us from the calls which eat our brains. As soon as I heard about the college admissions scandal, I remembered this: "Oh God, it's her again, isn't it?" "Yep. I'm not answering her anymore. I can't help her. You can't help her. No …

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Youthful Stupidity is No Longer Consequence-Free

If we mixed all the words of all the languages together, including Whale song, there would still not be enough words to express my unadulterated gratitude that all of my Youthful Stupidity was conducted well before Social Media was all-pervasive. And yet I know there exists a deeply unflattering photo of me, somewhere, held by …

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Pieces of Racism, Falling Into Place

So many years ago I don't like to admit, I was a Bank Teller. It was so long ago that I did not have a computer at my station, nor a bill counter; I counted the money by hand, and kept track of cash via two carbon pads called Debits and Credits. This was just …

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A Wokish White Woman’s take on Green Book

Somewhere I heard that the stage is where an actor shines, while in film it's the director who tells the story. It's been a useful piece of information when I find favorite actors in crap projects - Michael Caine, I'm lookin' at you - but Green Book is not a crap project. It simply left …

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