Pet Parade Sunday Morning

Good Mornin!  

It's thirty-seven degrees in Jackson, Mississippi.  That's cold.  It's Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!  I'm gonna put a tie on feist-dog and take him to church.  Pastor Carey Stockett is gonna preach part four of his five-part series on the Lord's Prayer.  Lord found out what Feist-dog been up to and told me to bring him in.

We got continued livestock judging at the fairgrounds, leadin' up to the Dixie National Rodeo starting February 10th.  Get your tickets at the coliseum box office.  Today will be the judging of 4H lambs and heifers.  Come on down to support 4H participants from all over Mississippi.

It's six o'clock, time for Pet Parade!  Pets, lost, found, and to-give-away!

We got three items on Pet Parade today, all from the north end of Meadowbrook Road.  Willie Lee Kroeze has found a pet crow.  Says the crow weighs around five pounds.  It eats well and responds to simple commands.  If this is your crow, she's keeping it in her carport and is teaching it new tricks.  Call her at Emmerson 6724 to pick up your pet crow.

Katherine Speed has lost a brown gelding horse.  It's old, it's mean, and you can't ride it, but she wants it back anyhow.  Last seen being chased by Jim Campblell's yard man, Ivory Barnes, with a rope.  Both are moving pretty slow.  If you see this horse, call Mrs. Speed at Lakewood 5321.  She'd like to have him back.

Last lost pet of the day, Pop Primos, has lost a tom turkey.  Last seen being chased by Jessie the Janiotor across the St. Andrews lower school football field.  If you see the turkey, call Mr. Kenny Primos at their Northgate restaurant.  Stay healthy. Eat at Primos.

That's all we got for Pet Parade today.  Ya'll call these folks if you can help 'em out.  Feist-Dog was gonna try to catch that turkey till he saw how big it was, then he ran and hid behind the wood-pile.  

These are all authentic Pet Parade stories, by the way.  I was there.  I loved Willie Kroeze to pieces.  She was Pet Parade's best customer. If there was ever a lost or misguided pet in North East Jackson, she'd find it and nurse it back to health until she either found its original owner or a better one.

Sometimes people like to talk about how Great Jackson was in those days.  It certainly wasn't trouble-free.  Every attempt to integrate our Capitol City met with bitter resistance.  Somebody blew up the Beth Israel Synagogue because they didn't like the way Rabbi Nussbaum was friendly with the negros.  The water system broke about as often then as it does now, but they didn't go out on the radio and television with a "boil water" notice because the EPA didn't require us to.  Breaks in the pipes got fixed a little faster because the city had more money because the population was still growing, not shrinking like it is now.  Water breaks got fixed a lot quicker if you lived in North East Jackson.  Less quickly if you lived in West Jackson, and you were lucky to have water at all if you lived in parts of midtown.  

Things seemed better when Jim Neal was on the radio.  He didn't sound like a radio man.  He sounded like your grandpa talking to you while he made breakfast.  It was comforting and very real.  Jim Neal cared for us.  He served in the Mississippi legislature, and he raised tens of thousands of dollars for the university hospital beyond fighting for its funding in the legislature.  He loved animals and often was the master of ceremonies at the Dixie National Rodeo.  I listened to WZZQ at night because they had better music.  Farmer Jim played what I called Lawrence Welk music, but I didn't care.  I needed his voice in the morning.

When Farmer Jim died, I let Feist-dog come live with me.  My wife didn't care too much for him; her cats didn't like the way he smelled.  He's old, his teeth are crooked, and he's not good for nothin', but I like having him around.  He reminds me not so much of good days in the past, although there were a lot of those, but better days ahead.  Feist dog reminds us of the humble but beautiful things God gives us, and keeps our mind on the new day ahead, even if it's really cold outside.  Good morning' feist-dog.  Let's go to work.

Hello, midnight

Hello, midnight.  It's me again.  You were expecting me, I suppose.

I accomplished less than half of what I wanted to do today, but I added some tasks that weren't on the schedule, so I don't feel bad about it.  Some of the letters I wanted to finish, I didn't, but I did finish two that weren't planned so that some old friends might rest a little easier in their journey.  I feel pretty good about that.  I'm pretty bad for filling my life with side quests, and then I avoid looking at the primary objective because I feel bad for not working on it.  

Noom says I can eat five or six pounds of certain foods without worry, so I tried that.  There's an African restaurant near me that seems to be in danger of winning a James Beard award, so I sampled selections from their vegetarian choices.  They deserve the award, but I am still so very full.  Noom says I'm still eighteen hundred calories short of my allowed intake today.  I think it's going to have to stay that way.  Some very talented people are turning Mississippi into a food destination.  As a lifelong devotee of food, I'm proud to say I know most of them, some since childhood.  

I came out of hibernation into a world where it's becoming dangerous to be a teacher, a world where it's dangerous to be gay again, even more dangerous if you're transgender, even more than when I was little.  Midnight, you brought me back into a world where the people who base their careers on claiming to represent the Christ are utterly ignoring his command to care for the poor and protect the weak--even working against them.

I am old, midnight.  My weapons are dull.  My parts are broken.  My strongest allies lie in the dirt.  This is not the best time to call for me.  I do hear you.  Of course, I do.  Summon a dragon and the knight will appear.  Is that your plan?  This knight is old and broken, Midnight.  But, you know that don't you?

I'm packing my kit.  Of course, I am.  You knew I would, didn't you?  I can tell you right now, this isn't going to work.  I'm not strong enough for this fight.  Maybe I'll pick up a varlet along the way.  I don't suppose it matters.  I promised my mother I wouldn't do this.  "Politics will break your heart."  She said.  "You can't stop people from doing these things."  She said.  And yet, here I am.  Where is this windmill you say is threatening us?  

I wish Daddy hadn't died.  It's not that he'd know what I should do; I mean, he didn't when I was twenty-five, so why should he now? but sometimes, I just really miss him.  I've never found anyone who I could talk to like I talked with him.  I've tried.  I talk to him now and imagine his responses, but it's not the same.  

It's not hard to imagine myself in a boat with Daddy and Deaton and Robert Wingate and Rowan.  It's not hard to imagine the conversation between them and what they might say to my queries.  I'd type out their real dialogue here, but my aunt gets mad when I use that kind of language.

"Millsaps is in kind of a spot, Daddy,"  I say.

"What are you gonna do about it?"  Asks Robert.

"Right now, my plan is to just be there as much as I can.  Be there and look for opportunities."

"That's not too much of a plan."  Rowan says.

"I know, but it's all I got right now.  I wasn't expecting to find this."

Deaton focuses on his lure in the water.  The fish are coming.  "You've done this before, haven't you?"  He asks.

"I have.  I was much younger."

"Did you know what you were doing then?"  Deaton asks.

"Absolutely not,"  I answer.

"So, what's the difference now?" Deaton asks.  Taking a moment to look me in the eye.

"You four were alive for one thing.  I was younger.  I had more faith, more energy."

"Is there anything I could tell you now, that I didn't tell you then?" Daddy asks me.

"Probably not.  No sir.  There isn't."

"You know what you have to do, don't you?"

"Yes sir, I suppose I do.  I'll do it.  I promise."  I tell him.

"It's kind of late.  I don't have anything to do right now.  Is it ok if I just stay in the boat with you guys for a while?  We don't have to talk or anything.  I just really miss you.  I just really miss this."

"Look in that cooler and see if there's a sandwich for your cousin Robert.  Don't tell your momma I let you stay.  I don't suppose there's anything else I have to do right now, either.  I think Deaton's got a fish."  

Opening 1

 At some point, every child becomes angry and resents their mother for whispering horrible lies in their ears to calm them at night. You are loved. You are strong. You are wise. The world is a beautiful place, full of opportunities. When you leave my arms, you will do, and see, and be such great things...

They're not lies so much. Most of these things are true or will come true. They just don't seem like it when you're in the world. Mothers try to fill you with the good before the world fills you with the bad. Some of it takes hold, and some of it doesn't.  

My mother never knew I would shut myself out of the world, but she could see it coming. When she tried to talk about it, I cut her off. When she died, I was already in the cave where I would live for many years, moving a stone to bar the door. I held her hand, and we spoke, but we didn't speak of that. She died knowing I was in trouble, and it was getting worse. I never spoke about it with her. Maybe I should now. 

Walking At Graduation

I don't transition well.  I hate it.  Being at one destination or another is great; getting there fills me with anxiety.

I mention this because, after discussing it with my family, I'm making a checklist of the things I need to accomplish in my escape plan from St. Catherine's back into Jackson.  That's how I get larger tasks done.  I break it into lists of much smaller tasks and then start knocking them out one by one.  Dealing with smaller tasks keeps me moving toward the larger goal without having to think about "am I getting any closer?"  I'm eating the elephant, one bite at a time.

When I graduated from Millsaps, I was so intimidated by the prospect that it was really beginning to annoy me.  I announced that I wasn't going to walk at graduation.  My father was entirely nonchalant about it, even though I would be shaking his hand after shaking Dr. Harmon's hand after getting my degree.  His name would be on it!  Daddy was like that.  He could be completely non-sentimental about some things and then get dewy-eyed about some really simple things like going to the Mayflower or Old Tyme or driving to Bethel.  

My mother was annoyed and quite vocal about it.  Mother and I often didn't see eye-to-eye on things.  She thought I was cold-hearted and overly judgemental about some things.  She was probably right.  She also felt like I should be more submissive to her opinion on things.  I'm not sure where I stand on that.  While it's entirely her devotion that created a path where I could overcome my learning disabilities, as life went on, there were times when I felt like she was holding me back.  

Determined to have my own way, it was ultimately Jane Alexander who convinced me to make an about-face and do things my mother's way.  Janie's had my number since I was about ten.  I don't think I've ever been able to refute her--so I walked at graduation.  I transitioned from student to citizen, which came with its own challenges, but I'm glad I did it.

Graduating from St. Catherine's is not that different from graduating from Millsaps.  It brings me several large steps closer to some of my goals in life, but it comes with some pretty big challenges and responsibilities too.  I'm to be a citizen again after quite a while of avoiding just that.  

I don't have any delusions.  The next twenty years is my swan song, my last opportunity in this world.  There are things I want to take, and there are things I want to give, and this is the last go-round.  When I exercise, I like to make that last repetition, that last push, that last effort, extra intense.  I have to earn my rest, or it will annoy me all day.   I'm making a list for my last repetition here in Madison.  One big push, and I'm crossing the rubicon into another world.  It's time.