Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Saintly Status - does not depend on fashion (I hope)

I am destroyed! My dreams are being mashed around by hordes of women wearing red hats!

I was standing inside the mail service - reading through my mail - minding my own business - when an enormous bus parked right outside the front door.

Well, that's not so bad - or unusual - because there is a buffet restaurant next door - and it's popular with the senior community. So, a bus tour unloading right there is semi-common. But, as I looked through the windows of the bus someone stood up with a roster and waved her arms around. Looks like she was doing some kind of directing.

That's when I noticed the passengers. Hats! They were wearing Hats! - RED ones. Some had flowers around the brim, some had fancy scarves . . . as they got off and walked towards the restaurant I noticed they were wearing purple outfits. There were a few men in the group. My heart just sank.

See, when I was a child (as you can imagine) I was rather different than all my chums.

For instance - when I was 5 and 6 years old I got up extra early every morning to help the sun spin over the mountain range. I was certain if I did not perform this task it would remain dark forever. One day I woke up and knew the position had been given to another little girl and I could sleep in (which I have endeavored to do the rest of my life.)

When I was in my early teens I knew I wanted to grow up to be a saint. Well, if you've ever noticed, all the saint portraits have symbols to show which saintly person is being represented. (Yes, I know - the symbols were extra important because the populace couldn't read - so the symbols helped to tell the story . . . cool, huh?)

Here's the thing, though. I decided I would use a red plaid Pendleton blanket for my coat and wear a RED hat - (I had one that was ever so interesting then.)

So, what are these women up to? What could they possibly be thinking. I suspect the devil made them wear that outfit just to discourage me from my quest.

Well . . . . Phooey! . . . I don't even have a RED hat anymore (okay, I have a red plaid one - but it's a wool baseball style) - so, that will show them. They can hire buses to take them on tours of whatever senior travel destinations ring their chimes. They aren't even a ghost of imitation of the imaginary "super-georgy."

I'll continue my quest - and leave the fashion up to God.

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