Jeff and I have been watching Ken Burns’ latest PBS documentary film, The War, which, as of this writing, is about halfway through its 15-hour run. We’ve been faithful viewers – a challenge, since it’s also been “season premier week” on the networks, bringing lots of tempting competition after a long, mind-numbing summer. (It’s either feast or famine with TV, isn’t it?)
snarky: adjective – describes any language that contains quips or comments containing sarcastic witticisms intended as blunt irony. Usually delivered in a manner that is somewhat abrupt and out of context and intended to stun and amuse. Origin: Snark = snide + remark – www. urbandictionary.comsnarky: adjective – irritable or short-tempered; irascible. – www. thefreedictionary.com
When you’re a recovering agnostic and fledgling conservative – a Neo Fuddy Duddy, as my husband lovingly puts it (NeoFud for short) – it’s not easy to find a support group. In many ways, you’re still very much like your liberal, secularist friends. (I try not to stereotype, but in my experience, those traits do tend to go together.) But in some pretty crucial ways, you’re completely different, and they understandably think you’ve lost your mind. Oh, there are plenty of conservative Christians who are happy to welcome you into the fold, and that’s great, but you don’t fit in with them so well, either. Most of them – or maybe it just seems this way – have been conservatives and Christians forever, and are comfortable in that identity. They don’t know where you’ve come from, what you’ve come through to get where they’ve always been, nor do they care how they (or you) are perceived by your liberal, secularist friends, whose opinions you still very much value.
For the first time this year, I went kayaking. It was Father’s Day and I put in on Lucy Creek just off of Sams Point Road. I was by myself but I wasn’t alone. I counted eight dolphins on that solitary expedition; two of them were a mother and her calf swimming side by side, heading toward the marsh grasses to feed on fish they would corral. It was a calm, dusty gray morning and the brackish water flowing around the kayak made a soft whir as it brushed against the boat’s polyethylene skin, filling the creek with a high tide. The backdrop of the gray-white sky highlighted the vivid green of our new summer cord grass.
Despite our solemn, heartfelt vow to cleave to each other and “become one” my husband and I, like most spouses, are not always of a mind. One thing that’s really been sticking in Jeff’s craw lately (besides the fact that I continually mention him in this column) is my failure to demonstrate proper alarm over global warming.
I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately. Book reading! Though I always manage to squeeze in magazines and newspapers (short-term commitments, right?), my quality time with books tends to wax and wane according to my schedule, energy level, and general mood. So I’m happy to say that, currently, I am on a roll.
Jeff and I were watching “Scarborough Country” on MSNBC last Friday, when who should appear on screen – again – but Britney Spears and Paris Hilton. Wearing identical platinum hair extensions, sky-high stilettos, and matching spandex wristbands (as skirts!), they slid into the back of a limo, where they proceeded to whisper and giggle for the camera. My five-year-old daughter, on the floor with a jigsaw puzzle, was mesmerized.