The first time I went to a Unitarian church, I received a sticker that said Love Is Salvation which I was instructed to put on my dress. I attended the service with the man who would eventually rape me, his father, and stepmother. As a child steeped in both a mystical and traditional background (seances and the Blood of Christ could coexist in my family's house), I found it oddly bland. There were no snakes, no crazy rules about not cutting your hair, not even any crucifixes. A good gory crucifix comes in handy at the oddest times -- my friend Hank taught the last years of his life at a Jesuit college and would frequently turn to our crucified Lord when the students weren't getting it and say, See what I have to put up with? The service lasted a long time and everyone hugged each other at the end. I can barely endure a mumbled "peace be with you" and a quick handshake so this didn't set well with me. I threw my Love Is Salvation sticker away as soon as I could. Running around with that on was almost as humiliating as the time I had to ride in a mini-van covered with pro-life bumper stickers to a KFC buffet that my preacher and his wife had decided to treat my then-husband and I to since they had a two for one coupon. I love KFC, but that ride in the van nearly killed me. I hung my head getting out, as if I were in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit.
My second experience with the Unitarians was far better. I went to Easter services with my disseration director. When asked what we were thankful for, a man that went by the name of Stinky Dick raised his hand. Stinky Dick was actually Richard, a history professor who had lost his mind and his job and any committment to personal hygiene. He wandered Frye Street, the biggest drug mecca in all of my old college town, and yelled crazy-ass shit to people, imploring women to come back to his apartment because he had air-conditioning. "I slept with this beautiful girl from Minnesota about a year ago. She was the best sex I ever had. I just want to thank God for this precious gift." Stinky Dick looked teary. "I mean, eighteen years old. Damn. I may never get that again." It was one of the most sincere praise items I'd ever heard. The room fell silent. I thought back to that Love Is Salvation sticker from so many years ago. Maybe I'd ripped it off a little too fast. Finally someone said, That's great, Richard. Praise God. Anyone else have something to be thankful for? But his testimony is the only one I remember.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"If you're not ready to die for it, take the word "freedom" out of your vocabulary." Malcolm X
Drinking music suggestion: When The Lights Go Out The Black Keys
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Friday! Thanks for all the great comments on seduction yesterday, dear readers!
31 days until The Sopranos airs!