Letters to Holly

Wednesday, July 1

A New Project

There's a 5k race this weekend, the traditional Firecracker Run. It's one of a handful that go downtown. I considered entering it; I am running all the time now, and this would be a good test of my progress. But I received this email from the race organizers:
This year there will be a little congestion problem. It seems that the Tail Gate Market will be set up adjacent to the FINISH Line and will be taking up most of the parking lot along S Gaston St and Varsity St. There is still ample parking in the area. You will be given further instructions about the problem on Varsity St as you are coming into the FINISH Line.
Maybe I'm reading this wrong, but it seems to say that runners will be told of the course's end only after they've started the race. Screw that. We've seen this exact cock-up a few years back, and runners turned the wrong direction about a quarter-mile from the finish. I'm amused that no one thought to schedule this against the tailgate farmers. They practically predate the streetlights.

The races were recently taken over by the local rotarians, and this kind of confusion is the new norm. The first race they organized featured a drink station that consisted of a six-inch-tall cardboard box and a woman who hadn't made any drinks beforehand. I saw a runner do laps around her while she poured his drink. I'm not encouraged to give them my registration money, not when I can simply run through downtown before the shops open.

We'll host Mom this weekend, and I'll do some prop shopping for the show. I also have a new sudden deadline. The comic publisher is slapping together a Michael Jackson-themed comic for the nation's biggest convention, ComicCon in San Diego. I agreed to do two pages at mini-comic size for July 6. It's to be b/w with no mention of his kid trouble. I'll probably write about my summer camp/Thriller story.


I just took a break to jot down a first draft. It came easy, and this should be a feasible assignment. I wanted to do a memoir comic again, and I'm flattered to be asked by the publisher.

Your Sister thought I had rehearsal yesterday and made an appropriate light dinner. This is despite the fridge calendar screaming the rehearsal date for today. She couldn't get it right even after we ate.

"So, you're leaving soon, right?"
"Rehearsal? 7:30."
"That's still tomorrow."
"Oh. Okay."
"Do I need to go? Is Mark Sanford coming over?"
"No, no."

Speaking of, this guy's a schmo. He now admits to seeing his mistress more than he confessed in his mea cupla conference. Also, he says he's "crossed the line" with other women without, he says, "crossing the ultimate line." Now that's a loaded phrase for a Christian adult. The realm of activities that may not constitute his notion of sex could be crowded. It's an ambiguous term. For him, "does the ultimate line" mean full-hearted love?

He's obviously tomcatting around. We don't know what his wife knew, and I don't want to see her grilled. She's made it clear she won't tolerate adultery. But we don't know if their relationship is harmed more by his affairs of the pants or the heart. Seems clear that he stayed married for his career; he's on the record as saying this other woman is his soulmate, but he's trying to fall back in love with his wife. His words. That's sad. It's downright brutal for his kids, and for that forced ignominy, he should be launched into space.

But to treat Your Wife this way, to say things best not plastered in papers and on cable news, it sounds mindless. Or completely calculated. If he pretends to want reconciliation, he wants pity after she inevitably and rightfully drops his lying ass. "I wanted it to work," he'll say. "But she wanted something else." Sanford, was wronged, he hopes we'll say. He 's no longer working to earn our respect for Doing the Right Thing. He wants sympathy for a plight he wholly created.

I'm not bothered by his affairs. That's between him and his wife to deal with. I'm bothered by his public packaging of the matter. I don't like his proud humility. He wants very much for us to see him gladly burdened by consequence and remorse. A hairshirt happily donned isn't the punishment it's meant to be. His comparison to King David is a sly way of saying he's as much a sinner but also as prominent a ruler.

An interesting proposal was made last week that the Democrats should now push for a national gay-marriage law. The Republicans have lost the moral high ground with the Nevada and South Carolina governor affairs. Gingrich and Limbaugh can't talk about the sanctity of marriage to the mainstream, not with their six combined marriages. What argument is left? These prominent disregards for the vaunted institution undercut the common objection to gay marriage. They can't possibly taint matrimony any more than these hypocritical finger-waggers.

I never understood the logic of gay marriage harming straight marriages. It will take more than gay married neighbors to affect what Your Sis and I have. Bunches more. Maybe alligator ninjas.

She spent much of yesterday rearranging the garage and workshed. She says she can't bear to sleep in while I get up and run. I think she needs to muddle through chores so she can allow herself to play online later. That's fine. I work the same way.

Picture of the Day
I miss new Lost.

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