Day 7 In Kentucky

Hard to believe that I've already spent 7 days in God's Country. Only 4 more days to go. Then it's back to the land of grocery stores that don't sell loaf bread and horns that don't stop honking. Before I forget, thank you for the prayers on behalf of nephew Jack. When they cut him open to excise the cystic mass that was in his neck, its size had shrunk from the last doctor visit. It looks like everything will be just fine. And with some very visible stitches, he has become quite popular with the girls in his age group (about 9). I guess the young ladies are impressed with the ruggedness that comes with stitches and scars and things.

Speaking of honking horns, until Wednesday (two days ago), I hadn't heard a single, solitary horn blow since arriving in the beautiful south. Then on Wednesday, my mother and I were pulling into a liquor store parking lot to buy a last-minute Christmas gift. The lady in the car in front of me was blocking the entrance for no particular reason that I could determine. Suddenly I hear a horn blow. A strong, dual-tone horn that meant business. You could tell that this horn had hair on its chest and ice-water in its veins. The lady looked around, over her left shoulder, with a look of fear that one might see on the face of a novice rollerblader in Central Park headed into the horse-carriage area by mistake. Then I looked down for a second and realized that it was my hand on the horn button of my mother's gasoline-efficient SUV. Egads! My New York driving had invaded Bowling Green, KY!

In retrospect I realize that, likely, the lady was not afraid of the horn per se, but rather she was afraid that she had been spotted by someone who knew her and knew that she was most certainly not the type of lady to be seen patronizing a liquor store. I make this conclusion presuming that she is a Baptist. That's a reasonable conclusion based on population demographics. And, you see, Baptists don't drink alcohol.

That is, Baptists don't drink alcohol...in front of other Baptists.

Crime Wave Hits My Holiday Destination

I plan to leave on Friday, December 19, for a good, long visit to my hometown of Scottsville, Kentucky.  

Now I read this.

So naturally I'm more than a little concerned that I might be walking into a wave of crime.  And since these chickens were stolen in Kentucky, how will that affect the supply chain of KFC?

On a serious note, upon my arrival, I will go directly from the Nashville Airport to the hospital in Bowling Green where precious, little nephew Jack is having a minor surgery to remove a cystic mass of some sort from somewhere near his lymph nodes.  For those of you who believe in the power of prayer, please remember this little fella.  

Work has been so damn stressful over the past few weeks that I have barely had time to post my nuggets of wisdom on which I know so many of you (well, both of you) rely to make sure your life is one of complete and total fulfillment.  In fact, just after 11pm tonight, I wrote my last work email of the evening.  I tell you that to make sure you know that while I am in Kentucky, I expect to have more leisurely days.  That means I may have the opportunity to share more nuggets of wisdom with you!  (Especially now that Momma has moved from dial-up to broadband.  Whoo hoo!)

Which Shall It Be?

Where I come from, God's Country, good manners are important.  It's another way to know if someone was "raised right."  Part of a proper upbringing is knowing the appropriate salutation in a given situation.

So let me give you a situation:  male/female marriage.

The appropriate greeting to the groom is "congratulations."

The appropriate greeting to the bridge is "best wishes."

So here's another situation:  same-gender marriage.

If it is two guys, do they both get the "congratulations" greeting?  If it is two girls, do they both get the "best wishes"?  If not, what metric should one employ to determine how the correct greetings are given to the betrothed?

This doesn't seem too serious a concern right now.  But through the diligent and unending work of so many, this will be a concern we must be ready to address at the drop of a hat, or at least before people start jumping brooms!  And this is one conundrum that gives me butterflies of excitement when I think about resolving it.  And being a part of that resolution.  Hooray for equality!  The train might be traveling slowly, but "I thought it could...I thought it could..."

(If for some reason I am never blessed with marriage to another human being, my second choice is to marry a metaphor.)