Alan stepped in front of the safety bar to hold the elevator door open after I exited. While I rocked my weight from one aching foot to the other, he carried on a one-sided dialogue as though he didn't notice my flamingo impersonation, or the door bucking his back.
"I think we should skip the first session tomorrow. Sleep in, or pack so we'll be ready for check-out. The agenda looks boring." I nodded; admiring his ability to ignore conditions that I suspected must be as painful for him as they were for me. When a buzzing alarm finally called him back inside the car, he waved and left me with a final comment. "Remember, I'm right above you if you need anything."
No doubt, Alan wanted his statement to reassure, but the reminder that I was alone and might need something accomplished the opposite. Thanks to his suggestion that something could go wrong, I strained muscles in my neck and eyes, trying simultaneously to watch my back and the doors on both sides of the long hall that led to my room. Apprehension crescendoed when it took three tries to make the key work in my door, and dissolved into freedom once I was inside, the second lock clinked a declaration of safety and privacy, and I remembered that Room 224 belonged to me for the night - only to me, to enjoy as I pleased. By default of death and gender (my intended roommate's grandmother died and the company sent Alan in her place), this room hosted a number of firsts for me: my first business trip, my first night away from my husband and son, and my first time having a bed (actually, two identical beds) to myself. I refuse to count the hospital bed when Jason was born since I had a roommate and nurses traipsing in and out all night. Lights, temperature, alarm clock, and television programs awaited my sole preferences. Fear would not ruin this for me.
I started by kicking off the shoes that had tortured me for the last fourteen hours, and then stripped my way across the room, shedding clothes and inhibitions without the slightest nag of guilt for leaving them where they landed. A naked rebel emerged, examined the bland, mauve-and-gray surroundings, and decided she would enjoy trashing the faux-pristine room. I had seen the truth on a news program; the matching bedspreads and lampshades covered traces of sperm and germs.
With no concern for nudity or utility costs, I turned the temperature knob on the heat/air unit to the coldest setting, pushed the highest fan button, and danced across my clothes, turning on every electrical device in the room. With equal (and familiar) disregard for my obvious pleasure, Ron's voice invaded my thoughts. How could anyone need six lights in one hotel room?
Why does anyone think a criticism doesn't annoy if it comes in the form of a question? As usual, I swallowed those words, but I did answer my husband's question. "Sometimes, it's okay to forget need and just give in to feeling pampered."
The response--even after feeling stupid for speaking aloud to someone who was not in the same state--made me drunk with freedom. I bounced from one bed to the other, scrolling channels with the remote. Cable offered more choices than I could deal with so I passed on television, settled on music, and thumbed through the books on the nightstand. Room service tempted, especially the drinks on the back. Goose bumps and the urge to crawl under the sperm-hiding blankets won that battle and stayed the regret of finally getting privacy after I had quit drinking.
Propped like a princess on four pillows, I clapped my hands on the odd chance that this fairytale evening might produce a servant with a drink. A knock on the door echoed the clap, almost making me believe I might actually have a fairy godmother, until I heard Alan's voice.
"You still up in there?"
"Kinda." I wrapped myself in the bedspread and mentally tracked the robe in my overnight bag, which, for reasons I could not recall, I had left under the bathroom sink.
"Come to the door. I have something for you."
Shrinking deeper into the spread, I pulled it off the mattress and wore it to the door, where the clink of the lock worked in reverse. Apprehension crept back in with the locks and hit full force when I opened the door. Jeans, a tee shirt, and bare feet removed ten years and most of the stuffiness of his suited appearance, making me wonder how many other attractive men I might have missed at work. He raised both hands, a bottle of wine in one and two glasses in the other.
Close the door and go to bed. No question mark. My voice.
"Want to come in?" The words that slipped out.
I shifted the bedspread to poke out an arm and accept the bottle he handed over as he walked past me. "Looks like you undressed in a hurry," he said, leaning over to pick up my jacket.
"Drop it. I'm being defiant."
He threw his head back and laughed, revealing another new secret: his hair actually moves.
"This room will be a total mess before I leave. In a little while, I am going to leave toothpaste in the skink. I might pee and forget to flush."
"Maybe you didn't need that bottle." He let the jacket fall back to the floor. "I can live without the toilet, but wouldn't mind witnessing the toothpaste blob. This is going to excite you?"
What was I thinking? I had to face this man at work. "Forgive me. I needed silliness to unwind after the conference. Was this the most boring day in your life, too?"
"Right up there with the worst of them. That's why I thought you might like a drink." He raised the glasses.
"I appreciate the offer but I don't drink." There, hard part said.
He put the glasses on the dresser and reached for the bottle. "You don't normally throw your clothes on the floor, either. You're being defiant."
"True." I handed my reservations over with the bottle.
He filled both glasses and we sat on the beds to drink, he on the still-made one, and I on the one whose spread I still wore. Halfway through the first glass, I stopped wondering why I hadn't gone to the bathroom and changed into my pajamas and robe. After the second, I fell back on the bed and complained that wine must be stronger than it had been when I drank every night.
"Could be," he said. I giggled because his voice tickled my ear. "You've lost your cover, my dear." His voice was in my ear this time, escorting me into that wonderful realm of inner heat shared with contradictory goose bumps and taut nipples. "Let me help."
Eyelids too heavy to lift, and not trusting what might come out if I tried to speak, I lay still and nodded. I needed help. He took my glass and placed it on the nightstand. I convinced myself that excitement and irregular breathing were causing the room to spin; keen senses proved I couldn't be drunk. I sensed his movements, heard the glass hit the wood, smelled the fabric softener in his shirt, and imagined the taste of his tongue in my mouth.
Still in a denied-drunk state of confidence, I knew he stood between the beds, staring at me. I sensed he would speak before he did.
"Will it upset your defiance if I turn off a few of these lights before I leave?" He sighed. "I'll get out of here and let you sleep."
My response surprised me more than his words had. "No."
"No, you don't want the lights off?"
"No, to both. I think." I slurred because my throat was dry, cursed myself for setting the fan on high. "My defiance will not suffer if you turn off the lights. And no, I don't want you to leave."
"Then, you'll have to put something on."
Thank God, he planned to turn off the lights. Otherwise, I would be too embarrassed to ever open my eyes again. My first chance to experience what I had seen in movies, read in books, and listened to on Mondays in the office - my first potential one-nighter tells me to put my clothes on? I could think of nothing more humiliating, at least not until the tears rolled down the sides of my face and plunked on the sheet like bowling balls on plywood. Maybe two glasses of wine was enough to do it these days. I hoped I was lucky enough to pass out soon.
He sighed again, this time maybe loud enough for people in surrounding rooms to hear. "Are you okay?"
"Drunk, naked in front of a co-worker, freezing, and too damned humiliated to move. Does that sound okay to you?"
"Let me get tissues," he offered.
I pulled the bedspread around my apparently repulsive body while he was gone. Maybe it wasn't me. He might not like women. Oh God, it might be even more humiliating to have missed something that important. When he returned with a handful of tissues and handed me one, I thanked him and blew my nose. What could it hurt? A honk would not make this night any worse.
"Do it," he said.
"What?"
"Toss the used tissue on the floor." I laughed, dropped the tissue, and reached for another. He fed me the stack he had in his hand and then went back for more, purposely dropping a couple before he got to me. We laughed until the tissues ran out.
The spinning settled while I learned to live with humiliation. He deserved a reprieve now that I knew I would survive. "Thanks for the wine and tissues."
"My pleasure." He ran a hand across the bed he had wrinkled and stopped mid-sweep. "What am I thinking?" He yanked the spread off the bed and dropped it on the floor. When I laughed, he went back for the blanket and top sheet. "This is actually quite fun," he said, watching the sheet parachute over the television. After it settled, he turned to face me. "Do I still get to watch you leave the toothpaste blob before I leave?"
"Maybe later." I adjusted my cover and held it closed with both hands. "I just thought of a great act of defiance." I stepped up on the bed and jumped; he did the same on the other bed.
"We're both crazy," he said.
I kicked my legs out and landed on my ass. "If you tell anybody at work about this, I'll have to kill you."
He smacked the ceiling with his palms. "Likewise."
After leaving toothpaste and shampoo blobs in the sink and on the counter, I walked him to the door. My "thank you" felt inadequate.
"For helping you destroy your room? I enjoyed it."
"For making the room the only thing I destroyed."
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Everything Familiar
An eerie absence of everything familiar troubled Poncho, yet he hesitated to move since the bed felt more comfortable than it had in years. He compromised; didn't move a muscle other than to strain an ear and listen for sounds he normally tried to shut out - squawking birds, slamming doors, fights at the school bus stop, and Felix's damned muffler. Nothing. Surely, this lack of pain and annoyance could only mean one thing: he had died in his sleep. What a disappointing state of neither-good-nor-bad death turned out to be.
He opened an eye, found the midmorning sun peeking under the curtain instead of halos or pitchforks, and abandoned the original premise. The early morning sounds were missing because he had slept past them. He wiggled his toes, lifted an arm and leg, and then repeated the routine several times. Considering he had nothing to account for this mysterious relief, he especially appreciated the sensation of movement without pain.
Refusing to question or tempt this gift of luck, he eased from the bed and weighed options. He could use the extra energy to vacuum, or scrub the shower tiles he had neglected for so long. Or, he could capitalize on the emotional lift of having been through death and rebirth, and work on Amy's birthday poem. While making the bed, he decided the carpet and shower tiles could wait for another good day. Thirteenth birthdays only happened once, and didn't wait for anything.
This was a big year for birthdays in the Tranton family. Their baby would hit the teens,
Leonard--always Poncho's baby--would turn forty in April, with his wife following the next month. If all went according to schedule, Poncho would turn seventy before the year ended.
Walking taller than he had in months, Poncho padded to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. He bypassed the frosted mini wheats he would normally have pulled off the bottom shelf and reached up-still pain free-for the tin box on the top shelf, appreciating the heart swell that always accompanied contact with the tin.
He left the blinds closed, the lights off, the television and radio that he normally turned on for company silent, and carried the box to the table. Shielded from intrusion or distraction, he ran a hand over the faded Pansy lid. The picture on the tin was probably out-dated, which meant the matching stationary inside would be as well. That didn't matter; after writing twenty-seven birthday poems on Pansies, he would not break tradition for the sake of style.
The lid popped off easily now. With it came the memories. The week before Leonard was born, Mary had come in from her baby shower with an assortment of bottles, embroidered bibs, diapers, knitted booties and blankets - and one odd tin of Pansy stationary from her Auntie Edna. Incensed when Poncho laughed and suggested that Auntie Edna had finally lost her last marble, Mary informed him that she would write her thank you notes on that paper, making it a most appropriate gift.
Trouble started when Mary adopted a smug attitude and prissed her Pansy tin over to the Formica table she could barely fit her pregnant belly under. She mistook Poncho's smile as more ribbing, when in fact, the only thought in his head was that he had never seen her look more beautiful. Love was also responsible for the bigger smile that had encouraged her to toss the dishtowel at him.
Fixed on her goal, Mary ignored him and returned to her tin. She pulled up one corner of the lid, and another secured itself more tightly on the opposite corner. She rotated corners, turned the tin in every position on the table, held it between her knees and pried the lid with both hands, hit it with her fists, employed the assistance of the bottle opener and pliers. He had reached for the tin, offered to help, several times, but she ignored him.
Poncho held the lid to his chest now and re-ran every expression on her face that night, the emotions he had felt while watching her struggle with that tin, and all the love he had carried for her since.
Mary never got the lid off the tin, nor did Poncho open it to write her thank you notes after she died. He hadn't opened it until years later, when their first granddaughter was born, and he used the first sheet to thank his daughter-in-law for that gift.
He fanned the few remaining sheets. There were enough to cover the birthdays he had left, as long as he didn't get too wordy or mess up. Soon, boyfriends would supply whispers of love to his granddaughters. They would only look to him for wisdom. That wouldn't take much space.
Amy's thirteenth poem came easily, two drafts on the back of a dry-cleaning ad, and one perfect version copied onto Pansy-bordered stationary. While he had the paper out, he wrote a thank you note to Mary for understanding why he had never acknowledged his grief on the anniversary of her death. It was important that Leonard celebrate that date as the day of his birth without being reminded that his life had taken hers.
Poncho placed Mary's note in the bottom of the tin, wiped his eyes with a napkin, and returned the Pansies to the pantry until September, when Priscilla would turn sixteen. He took a deep breath, opened the blinds, and filled the coffeemaker with water, ready to restart his day - filled with everything familiar.
(excerpt from the novel Unlucky Horseshoe, to be published soon)
He opened an eye, found the midmorning sun peeking under the curtain instead of halos or pitchforks, and abandoned the original premise. The early morning sounds were missing because he had slept past them. He wiggled his toes, lifted an arm and leg, and then repeated the routine several times. Considering he had nothing to account for this mysterious relief, he especially appreciated the sensation of movement without pain.
Refusing to question or tempt this gift of luck, he eased from the bed and weighed options. He could use the extra energy to vacuum, or scrub the shower tiles he had neglected for so long. Or, he could capitalize on the emotional lift of having been through death and rebirth, and work on Amy's birthday poem. While making the bed, he decided the carpet and shower tiles could wait for another good day. Thirteenth birthdays only happened once, and didn't wait for anything.
This was a big year for birthdays in the Tranton family. Their baby would hit the teens,
Leonard--always Poncho's baby--would turn forty in April, with his wife following the next month. If all went according to schedule, Poncho would turn seventy before the year ended.
Walking taller than he had in months, Poncho padded to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. He bypassed the frosted mini wheats he would normally have pulled off the bottom shelf and reached up-still pain free-for the tin box on the top shelf, appreciating the heart swell that always accompanied contact with the tin.
He left the blinds closed, the lights off, the television and radio that he normally turned on for company silent, and carried the box to the table. Shielded from intrusion or distraction, he ran a hand over the faded Pansy lid. The picture on the tin was probably out-dated, which meant the matching stationary inside would be as well. That didn't matter; after writing twenty-seven birthday poems on Pansies, he would not break tradition for the sake of style.
The lid popped off easily now. With it came the memories. The week before Leonard was born, Mary had come in from her baby shower with an assortment of bottles, embroidered bibs, diapers, knitted booties and blankets - and one odd tin of Pansy stationary from her Auntie Edna. Incensed when Poncho laughed and suggested that Auntie Edna had finally lost her last marble, Mary informed him that she would write her thank you notes on that paper, making it a most appropriate gift.
Trouble started when Mary adopted a smug attitude and prissed her Pansy tin over to the Formica table she could barely fit her pregnant belly under. She mistook Poncho's smile as more ribbing, when in fact, the only thought in his head was that he had never seen her look more beautiful. Love was also responsible for the bigger smile that had encouraged her to toss the dishtowel at him.
Fixed on her goal, Mary ignored him and returned to her tin. She pulled up one corner of the lid, and another secured itself more tightly on the opposite corner. She rotated corners, turned the tin in every position on the table, held it between her knees and pried the lid with both hands, hit it with her fists, employed the assistance of the bottle opener and pliers. He had reached for the tin, offered to help, several times, but she ignored him.
Poncho held the lid to his chest now and re-ran every expression on her face that night, the emotions he had felt while watching her struggle with that tin, and all the love he had carried for her since.
Mary never got the lid off the tin, nor did Poncho open it to write her thank you notes after she died. He hadn't opened it until years later, when their first granddaughter was born, and he used the first sheet to thank his daughter-in-law for that gift.
He fanned the few remaining sheets. There were enough to cover the birthdays he had left, as long as he didn't get too wordy or mess up. Soon, boyfriends would supply whispers of love to his granddaughters. They would only look to him for wisdom. That wouldn't take much space.
Amy's thirteenth poem came easily, two drafts on the back of a dry-cleaning ad, and one perfect version copied onto Pansy-bordered stationary. While he had the paper out, he wrote a thank you note to Mary for understanding why he had never acknowledged his grief on the anniversary of her death. It was important that Leonard celebrate that date as the day of his birth without being reminded that his life had taken hers.
Poncho placed Mary's note in the bottom of the tin, wiped his eyes with a napkin, and returned the Pansies to the pantry until September, when Priscilla would turn sixteen. He took a deep breath, opened the blinds, and filled the coffeemaker with water, ready to restart his day - filled with everything familiar.
(excerpt from the novel Unlucky Horseshoe, to be published soon)
Marcelle Dreams
Swiping a forearm across her sweaty brow, Marcelle exhaled and whipped up an imaginary friend to help kick her fatigue in the ass. Michael Landon won the honor this time. (Sandy is generous)
Starting out with a dead man seemed fitting, seeing how somebody croaked in her last two fantasies. Her breasts smothered puny little Truman in one; she keeled over from boredom when she let Felix take a go in the other. She swore off friends after that, but might reconsider once a few of them had more experience. For now, Michael was perfect - too damned sexy to bore her, and already dead, so she didn't have to worry about wearing him out or losing him between the bazooms, as Truman had called them.
She wound the top of her trash bag into a knot (wishing she were twisting her fingers through Michael's curls instead) and hefted the sack of dead leaves over her shoulder. She would ride Michael to the dumpster and cool off before she returned to clearing the courtyard alone, since nobody else cared how sorry the complex looked. If she was lucky, the sun would die and Michael would return to life somewhere along the way. If she was lucky, which she wasn't.
Out of habit, she blew a kiss at Juanito's window before noticing he hadn't even opened the blinds. Michael's grin took care of that disappointment but she forgot both dark-haired knockouts when she spotted a sling chair in the dumpster. Maybe her luck was changing; she had made several decent finds lately. And, despite her complaints, most of the time she honestly felt as happy as she acted. Some people questioned her for laughing while she griped; others just said they couldn't imagine how she could even be happy. Years of practice, that's how, and a few bits of good luck now and again.
Like this - she either had a new chair, or at the very least a shot at trying on the latest fad in lawn furniture, without an audience. Several times, she had pulled a sling chair off the shelf in the drug store but chickened out before she sat on it. If she tried and didn't fit, or got stuck and couldn't get out, other customers would laugh. That might legitimately piss her off for the rest of an otherwise decent day.
She traded her bag of leaves for the trashed chair and carried it behind the dumpster to open it. The fabric and legs were intact. Not bad. But that didn't mean it was as new as it looked. It could be like the white jeans. They didn't have a stain on them but were so dry-rotted the seat completely blew out when she leaned over the meat counter at Kroger.
She played it safe; tested the seat of the chair with her foot, gradually adding more pressure until she was afraid she'd lose her balance. It felt sturdy. While working up the nerve to give it her full weight, a sniff from the other side of the dumpster distracted her.
Marcelle folded the chair and looked out. Bill's skinny girlfriend walked toward the dumpster, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Marcelle ducked back. Maybe the girl had physical ailments that caused her disgusting habits, sour attitude, and nauseating body weight. It didn't matter; the thought of making nice to the dimwit made Marcelle's skin crawl.
The dumpster lid opened and closed. Marcelle waited a few seconds, opened up the chair again, and peeked around the side to check sourpuss' location. Roughly two hundred fifty pounds of tattooed flab, chrome jewelry, and vinyl clothes barreled across the parking lot and cornered the anorexic sourpuss less than a yard from the dumpster. Marcelle's head throbbed as she closed the chair again and tried to flatten herself against the hot metal, noticing the stench for the first time.
"Your man say anything about finding money in the parking lot?" The male voice asked.
Sourpuss sniffed. "Who are you?"
"Nick. I'm with Wendy. Number ten." Marcelle slid down when the dumpster lid opened and stayed in position until it had closed again and Mr. Flab continued with his investigation. "You're in thirteen, ain't you?"
The female voice sounded father away. "Not your business."
"Ha! Guess he didn't tell you nothing." Big Guy cleared his throat and spit. "Cut your skinny ass right out of his windfall, I see."
Their voices came together then, close enough that Marcelle feared they might join her behind the dumpster soon. "What are you talking about?" Sourpuss asked. "Am I missing something?"
"My girl went out last night. Dropped two, hundred-dollar bills somewhere between the car and the apartment," he said. Sourpuss responded with a go ahead grunt. "She come back in yapping about seeing your guy eyeing her from the breezeway. Weird shit, and I was fucked up so I only half listened." He spit again. "Says she don't remember it this morning but I think she's trying to protect him now. Screw that."
"What's any of that got to do with me? You think Bill has something going on with your girl?"
Marcelle bit her tongue to keep from telling them this had even less to do with her and Michael, so they should stick to talk about the lost money or move the hell on.
"Nah, Wendy ain't interested in him. Just thought I'd see if you know anything about the money."
"You really think he has it?" Sourpuss sniffed a couple more times. "Interesting."
"If he found it and didn't tell you, he's a real prick." The big guy lowered his voice. "You could get high on two hundred bucks. Know what I mean?"
"I'll check it out. Nick? What number are you in?"
"Ten. Between the wailing birds and the Mexican Fucking Riverdancer."
Relieved that they walked away before she passed out, Marcelle stepped away from the dumpster. Mexican Fucking River Dancer? Ami wasn't going to like it when she found out that's what he thought of her Argentine Tango.
Marcelle sucked in a few clean breaths and returned her attention to the chair. It would be low for the card table, but a fourth seat was a fourth seat and she could use it in the courtyard. With a little maneuvering, she fit between the arms but was still afraid to put her weight on a discarded chair. When she had extra money, say something she found in the parking lot one day, she'd buy a new chair and try it out in the privacy of her own apartment. She tossed the chair back in the dumpster and returned to the courtyard.
Before she worked up a second sweat, Loretta stepped out her door in the gray cotton jumper that had become her uniform but nobody had the nerve to ask why. Marcelle waved. "Did you come out to help?"
"Maybe after my workout." Loretta walked toward Ami's door. "Why don't you join us?"
Marcelle's idea of exercise usually involved the likes of Michael Landon, but she followed Loretta. Anything to get help with the cleanup.
"I'm in the studio," Ami called out when Loretta opened the door. "Come on back."
Loretta followed Arabic music down the hall to the master bedroom that Ami had turned into a dance studio. Marcelle stayed close behind, finding what she thought was a beat in the unusual melody and wondering if that was what the tattoo guy had mistaken for Riverdance music.
Without stopping her routine, Ami met Loretta's eyes in the mirror. "Just warming up. Glad you're going to join us, Marcelle."
Loretta kicked her sandals to the corner and slid across the laminate floor on her socks. She landed in position next to Loretta and rolled her shoulders to the music.
Marcelle left her shoes with Loretta's, and waddled into place behind the younger girls. No sooner than her shoulders found their groove, Ami bent over and grabbed an ankle.
"Wendy has a hot head over at her place," Marcelle said, forcing her face in the direction of her thigh. "Thinks you're Mexican."
Ami touched her nose to her knee and held it there. Marcelle's stomach turned just thinking of the pain. "Mexican? Must be the wrestler-looking guy."
"That's him," Marcelle wheezed.
Ami sat on the floor, arms in the air, and twisted her torso from side to side. Loretta and Marcelle joined her. "Marcelle needs help in the courtyard," Loretta said to Ami's back. I get nervous when she works so hard in this heat."
"Don't take this wrong," Ami said. "I think it's nice you want to keep things neat. I just don't understand why." She scooted down, stretched her arms out to the sides, and twisted some more.
Marcelle did her best to follow Ami's graceful lead. She didn't have the breath to continue the conversation. After stretching and straining every muscle in her body, and just when she thought she might die, Ami got up and shut off the music.
"That's enough for today if you want us to help you in the yard."
Marcelle climbed to her feet, too exhausted even to think about Michael Landon, much less the remaining leaves. "Maybe we can finish tomorrow," she said, stepping into her shoes.
"That's what you told us yesterday," Loretta said.
"And the day before," Ami reminded her.
Marcelle walked toward the door. "If I didn't know better, I might think you girls distract me on purpose."
Before entering her apartment, Marcelle caught a second wind. It probably wouldn't hurt to search the parking lot for that missing money. Dean Martin seemed like the perfect companion for this trip.
Starting out with a dead man seemed fitting, seeing how somebody croaked in her last two fantasies. Her breasts smothered puny little Truman in one; she keeled over from boredom when she let Felix take a go in the other. She swore off friends after that, but might reconsider once a few of them had more experience. For now, Michael was perfect - too damned sexy to bore her, and already dead, so she didn't have to worry about wearing him out or losing him between the bazooms, as Truman had called them.
She wound the top of her trash bag into a knot (wishing she were twisting her fingers through Michael's curls instead) and hefted the sack of dead leaves over her shoulder. She would ride Michael to the dumpster and cool off before she returned to clearing the courtyard alone, since nobody else cared how sorry the complex looked. If she was lucky, the sun would die and Michael would return to life somewhere along the way. If she was lucky, which she wasn't.
Out of habit, she blew a kiss at Juanito's window before noticing he hadn't even opened the blinds. Michael's grin took care of that disappointment but she forgot both dark-haired knockouts when she spotted a sling chair in the dumpster. Maybe her luck was changing; she had made several decent finds lately. And, despite her complaints, most of the time she honestly felt as happy as she acted. Some people questioned her for laughing while she griped; others just said they couldn't imagine how she could even be happy. Years of practice, that's how, and a few bits of good luck now and again.
Like this - she either had a new chair, or at the very least a shot at trying on the latest fad in lawn furniture, without an audience. Several times, she had pulled a sling chair off the shelf in the drug store but chickened out before she sat on it. If she tried and didn't fit, or got stuck and couldn't get out, other customers would laugh. That might legitimately piss her off for the rest of an otherwise decent day.
She traded her bag of leaves for the trashed chair and carried it behind the dumpster to open it. The fabric and legs were intact. Not bad. But that didn't mean it was as new as it looked. It could be like the white jeans. They didn't have a stain on them but were so dry-rotted the seat completely blew out when she leaned over the meat counter at Kroger.
She played it safe; tested the seat of the chair with her foot, gradually adding more pressure until she was afraid she'd lose her balance. It felt sturdy. While working up the nerve to give it her full weight, a sniff from the other side of the dumpster distracted her.
Marcelle folded the chair and looked out. Bill's skinny girlfriend walked toward the dumpster, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Marcelle ducked back. Maybe the girl had physical ailments that caused her disgusting habits, sour attitude, and nauseating body weight. It didn't matter; the thought of making nice to the dimwit made Marcelle's skin crawl.
The dumpster lid opened and closed. Marcelle waited a few seconds, opened up the chair again, and peeked around the side to check sourpuss' location. Roughly two hundred fifty pounds of tattooed flab, chrome jewelry, and vinyl clothes barreled across the parking lot and cornered the anorexic sourpuss less than a yard from the dumpster. Marcelle's head throbbed as she closed the chair again and tried to flatten herself against the hot metal, noticing the stench for the first time.
"Your man say anything about finding money in the parking lot?" The male voice asked.
Sourpuss sniffed. "Who are you?"
"Nick. I'm with Wendy. Number ten." Marcelle slid down when the dumpster lid opened and stayed in position until it had closed again and Mr. Flab continued with his investigation. "You're in thirteen, ain't you?"
The female voice sounded father away. "Not your business."
"Ha! Guess he didn't tell you nothing." Big Guy cleared his throat and spit. "Cut your skinny ass right out of his windfall, I see."
Their voices came together then, close enough that Marcelle feared they might join her behind the dumpster soon. "What are you talking about?" Sourpuss asked. "Am I missing something?"
"My girl went out last night. Dropped two, hundred-dollar bills somewhere between the car and the apartment," he said. Sourpuss responded with a go ahead grunt. "She come back in yapping about seeing your guy eyeing her from the breezeway. Weird shit, and I was fucked up so I only half listened." He spit again. "Says she don't remember it this morning but I think she's trying to protect him now. Screw that."
"What's any of that got to do with me? You think Bill has something going on with your girl?"
Marcelle bit her tongue to keep from telling them this had even less to do with her and Michael, so they should stick to talk about the lost money or move the hell on.
"Nah, Wendy ain't interested in him. Just thought I'd see if you know anything about the money."
"You really think he has it?" Sourpuss sniffed a couple more times. "Interesting."
"If he found it and didn't tell you, he's a real prick." The big guy lowered his voice. "You could get high on two hundred bucks. Know what I mean?"
"I'll check it out. Nick? What number are you in?"
"Ten. Between the wailing birds and the Mexican Fucking Riverdancer."
Relieved that they walked away before she passed out, Marcelle stepped away from the dumpster. Mexican Fucking River Dancer? Ami wasn't going to like it when she found out that's what he thought of her Argentine Tango.
Marcelle sucked in a few clean breaths and returned her attention to the chair. It would be low for the card table, but a fourth seat was a fourth seat and she could use it in the courtyard. With a little maneuvering, she fit between the arms but was still afraid to put her weight on a discarded chair. When she had extra money, say something she found in the parking lot one day, she'd buy a new chair and try it out in the privacy of her own apartment. She tossed the chair back in the dumpster and returned to the courtyard.
Before she worked up a second sweat, Loretta stepped out her door in the gray cotton jumper that had become her uniform but nobody had the nerve to ask why. Marcelle waved. "Did you come out to help?"
"Maybe after my workout." Loretta walked toward Ami's door. "Why don't you join us?"
Marcelle's idea of exercise usually involved the likes of Michael Landon, but she followed Loretta. Anything to get help with the cleanup.
"I'm in the studio," Ami called out when Loretta opened the door. "Come on back."
Loretta followed Arabic music down the hall to the master bedroom that Ami had turned into a dance studio. Marcelle stayed close behind, finding what she thought was a beat in the unusual melody and wondering if that was what the tattoo guy had mistaken for Riverdance music.
Without stopping her routine, Ami met Loretta's eyes in the mirror. "Just warming up. Glad you're going to join us, Marcelle."
Loretta kicked her sandals to the corner and slid across the laminate floor on her socks. She landed in position next to Loretta and rolled her shoulders to the music.
Marcelle left her shoes with Loretta's, and waddled into place behind the younger girls. No sooner than her shoulders found their groove, Ami bent over and grabbed an ankle.
"Wendy has a hot head over at her place," Marcelle said, forcing her face in the direction of her thigh. "Thinks you're Mexican."
Ami touched her nose to her knee and held it there. Marcelle's stomach turned just thinking of the pain. "Mexican? Must be the wrestler-looking guy."
"That's him," Marcelle wheezed.
Ami sat on the floor, arms in the air, and twisted her torso from side to side. Loretta and Marcelle joined her. "Marcelle needs help in the courtyard," Loretta said to Ami's back. I get nervous when she works so hard in this heat."
"Don't take this wrong," Ami said. "I think it's nice you want to keep things neat. I just don't understand why." She scooted down, stretched her arms out to the sides, and twisted some more.
Marcelle did her best to follow Ami's graceful lead. She didn't have the breath to continue the conversation. After stretching and straining every muscle in her body, and just when she thought she might die, Ami got up and shut off the music.
"That's enough for today if you want us to help you in the yard."
Marcelle climbed to her feet, too exhausted even to think about Michael Landon, much less the remaining leaves. "Maybe we can finish tomorrow," she said, stepping into her shoes.
"That's what you told us yesterday," Loretta said.
"And the day before," Ami reminded her.
Marcelle walked toward the door. "If I didn't know better, I might think you girls distract me on purpose."
Before entering her apartment, Marcelle caught a second wind. It probably wouldn't hurt to search the parking lot for that missing money. Dean Martin seemed like the perfect companion for this trip.
Another Bunch Bite the Dust - 1/25/07 update
by Sandy Knauer
I wrote this article late in 2004, and have tried to keep it updated since. In the past, I have added to the end of the article, keeping events in chronological order. This time, I will present the newest information first, with a divider before the original article.
In an editorial titled, Dropping Like Flies, the Houston Chronicle discusses the resigntions of 11 U.S. attorneys--some of whom enjoyed commendable performance records--in the past year. The article opens for discussion a possible connection to a new provision to the Patriot Act that allows the Bush administration to fill vacancies without submitting them to the Senate for confirmation. I urge you to read this editorial and look for more information on the subject.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tom Ridge announced his resignation on November 30, 2004 He promises to stay in office until a replacement has been trained to change the color on the terror alert system and tell us when to duct tape our homes (likely around elections or when Home Depot can use the tape sales).
What does it mean when the Secretary of Homeland Security resigns because he needs a private sector job in order to afford to send his two children to college? Should we send military recruiters to offer his children the same enticing options other underprivileged students hear now the War President has delivered tuition hikes and grant cuts? Is it time to raise the minimum wage to ninety dollars an hour, to keep other American families from falling into this unbearable level of poverty? Maybe we need to outsource the Department of Homeland Security to overseas workers who know how to survive on pathetic salaries.
Then again, it might benefit us to consider asking someone other than the War President to nominate Mr. Ridge's replacement. I fear his wont for traditional family values hampers his objectivity, since Karen Hughes, War President advisor, Ari Fleisher, War President press secretary, Christine Todd Whitman, Administrator, Environmental Protection Agency, Rosario Marin, Treasury Department, and Peter Fisher, Undersecretary, Treasury Department, all left their positions because they wanted to spend more time with their families.
In March 2003, Janet Rehnquist resigned as inspector general of the Health and Human Services Department after a controversial tenure and while Congress investigated, among other things, her decision to delay an audit of Florida's pension fund at the request of Governor Jeb Bush's office. She cited wanting to spend more time with her family as the reason for her resignation also. If nepotism counts as a family issue, Armitage Richards, Deputy Secretary of State, offered as his reason for resigning that he came with the secretary and would leave with him. Victoria Clarke, Pentagon Spokesperson, left for personal reasons, which might qualify as a family related matter, as does Army General Wayne Downing's resignation from his post as deputy national security advisor to return to the more relaxed life of fine-tuning trout fishing.
Why then, does the War President offer family history and close friendships as selling points for his most recent nominations, Alberto Gonzales, and Carlos M. Gutierrez? I asked myself that question, but then realized that as striking as the family issue seems, it was not the only, or even the most commonly used reason for resignations by his appointees.
Some others left in groups, so I consider the possibility that it is a syndrome much like girls going to the bathroom in packs. J. Cofer Black, the State Department official in charge of counterterrorism, and Robert Blackwell, a former ambassador to India who was overseeing Iraq strategy at the National Security Council both resigned this month, neither citing family commitments as a reason. At the same time, department spokesman Adam Ereli said he would end his 30-year government career in a matter of weeks. Two U.S. diplomats, John H. Brown and John Brady Kiesling resigned from Foreign Service in protest against the War President's approach to disarming Saddam Hussein's Iraq.
Colin Powell, Secretary of State, Anne Veneman, Agriculture Secretary, Rod Paige, Education Secretary, and Spencer Abraham, Energy Secretary all announced resignations within weeks after the last election. Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill, and White House senior economic advisor Larry Lindsey, submitted their resignations on the same December day in 2002 as administration officials began reshuffling the War President's financial team. John Ashcroft, Attorney General, decided to look for new horizons at the same time Don Evans, Commerce Secretary, decided it was time to go home. J.D. Crouch II, Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Policy, offers a plan to return to academia as the reason for his resignation, effective Friday.
The War President has seen changes in warheads. US Commander of Central Command, General Tommy Franks, U.S. Army, resigned mid-war because he planned to retire from active duty the following summer. Colonel Douglas Macgregor of the US Army retired, criticizing a "sycophantic" army culture that he blames for failures in Iraq and wasteful investments in new technology and saw no possibility of fundamentally positive reform for the current strategic environment or the future. Thomas White, Army Secretary, resigned in April 2003, although it is rumored Donald Rumsfeld fired him.
The CIA suffered many losses, including that of Director George Tenet, who resigned after he testified before the 9/11 Commission. Stephen R. Kappes, the deputy director for operations, and his deputy, Michael J. Sulick, each left after serving twenty-three years. David Kays, former chief U.S. weapons inspector in Iraq left his position, stating the CIA and other agencies failed to recognize that Saddam Hussein all but abandoned efforts to produce large quantities of chemical and biological agents after the 1991 Gulf War, and accused U.S. intelligence agencies of widespread failures in evaluating pre-war Iraqi weapons programs. In June 2004, James Pavitt, a thirty-one-year veteran of the leading U.S. spy agency resigned the day after the agency's director announced he would leave.
Mike Dombeck, Forest Service chief, resigned March 27, 2001 because he wasn't happy with the new direction the administration wanted to take the Forest Service in. Eric Schaeffer, director of the EPA Office of Regulatory Enforcement, resigned February 27, 2002 stating he was fighting a White House that seemed determined to weaken the rules he was trying to enforce. John Brady Kiesling, a twenty-year veteran of the Foreign Service, resigned on February 27, 2003 because he had "tried and failed to reconcile his conscience with his ability to represent the current administration." Karen Kwiatkowski, office of the undersecretary of defense, Near East Bureau, resigned on July 1, 2003, because she believed the environment in which decisions about post war Iraq were made were " aberrant, pervasive, and contrary to good order and discipline". Isam al-Khafaji, former member of the Iraqi reconstruction council, resigned because he wanted to leave with a clear conscience and did not want to be a collaborator with occupying forces.
Richard Perle, chairman of the Defense Policy Board resigned in March 2003, because of a conflict of interest. John Poindexter, Pentegon, resigned following his involvement in an ill-fated plan to launch an online futures market for betting on Middle Eastern developments that was advertised as a vehicle for profiting on assassinations and other terrorist acts. Examples included the possibility of betting on the assassination of Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat or the overthrow of Jordan's monarchy.
Jack Pritchard, the special envoy for negotiations with North Korea, resigned at a critical moment in August 2003. Paul Redmond, America's top spy catcher, resigned suddenly in the middle of his secret investigation into how Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden allegedly obtained US computer software.
Mark Weinberger, a corporate tax lobbyist who became the War President's top tax policy advisor resigned in March 2002, after one year on the job, amid heightened scrutiny of his Office of Tax Policy. In October 2003, Dennis McKinney resigned after three years with the EPA because the Regional Administrator did not want the EPA to oppose state positions.
Thomas Scully, Medicare and Medicaid administrator, resigned in December 2003, saying millions would lose out on the promise of better benefits under the new Medicare bill signed by the War President. AIDS Panel Director, Patricia Ware, resigned her position at HHS in February 2003, after a controversy in which someone she had selected for the panel withdrew amid revelations that he had made anti-gay comments.
When Mitch Daniels, Budget Director, resigned on May 6, 2003 to run for Governor of Indiana, he was the last remaining member of the War President's original economic team remaining.
I've probably forgotten a few, fired someone who didn't really resign, and possibly mixed up reasons for resignations. The swinging door makes me dizzy. I encourage you to follow the links; read in their own words why so many resigned. With a record like this, should we feel comfortable with the War President's nominations and appointments for those positions vacated since November 2?
11/9/05 update: (sorry I can't keep up. Hopefully, there will have been more before this hits the web- like Bush, Cheney, Rove, Rice, Rumsfeld)
Scooter Libby
Bunnatine ("Bunny") Greenhouse
Richard Clarke -National Security Council, terrorism advisor – became disillusioned with Bush's "terrible job"
Paul O'Neill – Secretary of Treasury -He, like Clarke, recalled Bush's Iraq fixation. "From the very beginning, there was a conviction, that Saddam Hussein was a bad person and that he needed to go," said O'Neill, a permanent member of the National Security Council. "It was all about finding a way to do it. That was the tone of it. The president saying 'Go find me a way to do this.'" Fired, December 6, 2002.
Michael Brown
Flynt Leverett – Senior Director for Middle East Affairs
Ben Miller – CIA staffer and Iraq expert with the NSC
Hillary Mann – foreign service officer on detail to the NSC as the Director for Iran and Persian Gulf Affairs
Larry Lindsey – top economic advisor
Ann Wright – career diplomat in Foreign Service
John Brady Kiesling – career diplomat serving four presidents over twenty years
3/10/06 update
John Brown – veteran of Foreign Service (24+ years) "I cannot in good conscience support President Bush's war plans against Iraq. The president has failed to: explain clearly why our brave men and women in uniform should be ready to sacrifice their lives in a war on Iraq at this time; to lay out the full ramifications of this war, including the extent of innocent civilian casualties; to specify the economic costs of the war for the ordinary Americans; to clarify how the war would help rid the world of terror; [and] to take international public opinion against the war into serious consideration." Resigned, March 10, 2003.
Rand Beers – National Security Council, Senior Director for combating terrorism
Karen Kwiatkowski – Lt. Colonel, Air Force I observed the environment in which decisions about post-war Iraq were made… What I saw was aberrant, pervasive and contrary to good order and discipline. If one is seeking the answers to why peculiar bits of 'intelligence' found sanctity in a presidential speech, or why the post-Hussein occupation has been distinguished by confusion and false steps, one need look no further than the process inside the Office of the Secretary of Defense."
Retired, July 2003
Claude Allen
Larry Lindsey
Anne Wright
Major John Carr and Major Robert Preston – Air Force Prosecutors - quit their posts in 2004 rather than take part in trials under the military commission system President Bush created in 2001 which they considered "rigged against alleged terrorists held at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba." Requested and granted reassignment, 2004.
Captain Carrie Wolf – USAF – asked to leave due to concerns commissions for trying prisoners at Guantanamo Bay were unjust
John Carlin – Archivist
Susan Wood
Frank Davidoff - "I can no longer associate myself with an organization that is capable of making such an important decision so flagrantly on the basis of political influence
Joanne Wilson - commissioner of the Department of Education's Rehabilitation Services Administration Joanne Wilson, who left her job as commissioner of the Rehabilitation Services Administration on March 1, now says she quit in protest of what she said were the administration's largely unnoticed efforts to gut the office's funding and staffing.
"Programs for people with disabilities are being dismantled, and nobody is crying out and saying, 'Look what's happening,' " said Wilson, who, as RSA commissioner, was one of the government's highest-ranking disabled officials.
Tony Oppegard & Jack Spadaro
Teresa Chambers - U.S. Park Police Chief - UPDATE: 4/12/06 - Note from Teresa Chambers: "You can read more about my case at a website my husband established, www.HonestChief.com,. While there, you can also hear some of the previous stories posted by its webmaster as well as many of my media interviews in the audio library, accessed via a button at the top left of the home page. Please be sure to start with the "First Time Visitor" button on the left side of the home page. "
"This siutation has far reaching implications for every American. Please consider keeping this story alive by informing others of these outrageous actions by certain Federal officials who should be concerned for your safety and who should be upholding the values of freedom of speech and of honesty and integrity in government. Feel free to reach out to me for any additional information I can provide."
Teresa Chambers
www.HonestChief.com
Sylvia Lowrance – EPA official - "This Administration has pulled cases and put investigations on ice," Lowrance says. "They sent every signal they can to staff to back off. When you stop enforcing, there are implications to the entire compliance system. If no one believes EPA is going to enforce, overall compliance rates go down. The saddest thing is not these individual instances of nonenforcement, but what has happened to the reputation of the program itself.
"I fear that with lax EPA enforcement, corporate leaders are not going to spend scarce resources to expand compliance programs."
George C. Deutsch – young presidential appointee at NASA - Mr. Deutsch's resignation came on the same day that officials at Texas A&M University confirmed that he did not graduate from there
3/29/06 Andy Card, Gale Norton
(guess I need to alphabetize these soon)
Claude Allen was arrested on Jan. 2. That night he met with Chief of Staff Andy Card and White House Counsel Harriet Miers to discuss the charges. According to McClellan, Allen told them the incident was a misunderstanding stemming from credit card confusion because he had moved a number of times. "He assured them that he had done nothing wrong, and that he was working to get the matter cleared up," said McClellan at a news conference.
A few days after the Jan. 2 meeting, Allen told staff members that he had been thinking about leaving from his position because he wanted to spend more time with his family. He waited until after the State of the Union address to resign and completed his last day on Feb. 17. Allen's trial is set for April 27. If convicted he could face 30 years in jail and/or $50,000 in fines.
Tom DeLay Leaves U.S. Politics with Low Numbers – 4/4/06 DeLay faces a charge of money laundering for allegedly using funds from corporate donors to support legislative candidates in Texas. If convicted, DeLay could be fined up to $10,000 U.S. and sentenced to six months to two years in jail.
4/19/06 - Scott McClellan and Karl Rove
5/5/06 - Teresa Chambers Featured in New Book Profiling Patriotic Americans
Note from Teresa Chambers:
During the past year, I was interviewed by Bill Katovsky for his book, "Patriots Act: Voices of Dissent and the Risk of Speaking Out."
Chapter 16 of the book, which is now available for sale, is entitled "The Honest Chief." I am humbled to be included among the courageous giants included in "Patriots Act." You can read more about the book, including brief, selected excerpts, at www.HonestChief.com.
Also on 5/5/06 - CIA Director Porter Goss Resigns. The news of the Goss resignation comes as new poll numbers continue to cause dismay for Republicans.
6/06 John Snow, Treasure Secretary, resigns in another chapter of a White House shake-up to revive President Bush's troubled presidency
Sept 29, 2006 - Rep. Mark Foley (news, bio, voting record), R-Fla., abruptly resigned from Congress on Friday in the wake of questions about e-mails he wrote a former teenage male page.
Nov 8, 2006 - Bush names Gates to replace Donald Rumsfeld.
Dec 4, 2006 - John Bolton, US President George W Bush's contentious and outspoken choice as United Nations ambassador, has given up his post in the face of stiff opposition in Congress
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Comments: 15
I can't find the defeated Supreme Court Nominee from TX-- what's her name -- she resigned 2-3 weeks ago without much notice, you know the lap-poodle. The one who vetted and recruited for the team...
Mary C Legg commented Jan 25, 2007
Shoot, Mary. I can picture her clearly and her name escapes me. I'll go look her up if I don't think of it in a few minutes.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
Miers?
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
There have been several articles in the papers about the US Attorneys who were fired. It seems that some of them conducted investigations that the Bushies were uncomfortable with...like Congressional graft, warrantless wiretapping, etc. Also, the replacements are Bush cronies, so it's political payback and payoff, all in one package.
Congress is protesting this...the appointments have been made by the AG, and he does not have a Constitutional right to do that. And Congress is supposed to review the appointments. Like everything else this president does, it's a usurpation of power by the Executive branch. The Constitution is going to need some major repairs after we get rid of these jerks. It's been bent and twisted and broken for five years now...and the damage probably isn't over yet.
Bert B. commented Jan 25, 2007
That's what it looks like to me, Bert. A blatant abuse of power. It scares me to hear people say, "Only two more years." Two more years of the same could be the end of everything as we've known it.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
Seems like the public belong in there somewhere . . . maybe Nov. 7th.
John Knight [pb] commented Jan 25, 2007
I thought that Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill made them fire him. The book written about his experience is enough to set your teeth on edge.
George McNaughton commented Jan 25, 2007
Hi Sandy -- we haven't met (John O. is my longtime boyfriend and sings your praises, with, I've discovered, good reason), but I think you're terrific, by virtue of politics if nothing else. This is an excellent article and frankly deserves publication in print for a wider audience. I don't think I've seen anything like it, and I read obsessively about politics, egged on by fear that my government is out to get me and everyone like me (and everyone I speak to on the phone, email, send a Christmas card to, etc.).
The Paul O'Neill book, The Price of Loyalty, is a good illustration of your point -- not only does it detail the road that drove him to resign, it also chronicles the experience of Christine Todd Whitman, who now seems like one of the harmless Republicans, though I'm sure it's only by comparison. And I've wondered for literally years now if anyone in the press who discussed that book remembers the memo in favor of regime change in Iraq dated January 2001. How could the press let this slip? How could no one except apparently I remember this detail? Why the hell am I asking such stupid questions?
One more thing -- I don't mean this badly in general but it's so very, very refreshing to read an article that's grammatically perfect. Thank you, and thank the English teacher or parent that must have drilled this into you the way they drilled it into me. Nice to meet you!
Kris M. commented Jan 25, 2007
Kris, I am so happy to meet you. Your questions are not stupid, they are the questions we should all be asking, loudly, until we get some answers. The media lets these things slip because they are 'owned' and also because when anything really big happens, it seems something less significant but more interesting to people who believe "ignorance is bliss" takes its place.
I have published this article several times over the years, on a number of sites. Once, when I published here, one of the people listed in this article joined Gather so she could send a message to thank me and to keep me updated on the status of her situation. That gives me hope that more people read than comment. Seeing this information collected in one place should be a red flag. All I hope to do is raise the questions and encourage others to get involved and ask for answers. I appreciate that some of you have suggested other sources and ideas.
Tell John I thank him for sending you my way. Hope to see you around more.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
thanks for updating the list, sandy. it's sobering to read. and i'm with you in that it freaks me out to think of what they/he will do in the next two years.
mona d. commented Jan 26, 2007
"Seems like the public belong in there somewhere . . . maybe Nov. 7th."
Ah ha ha ha ha HA! That's good, John! Is it 2008 yet?
I like this list, Sandy. Thanks.
Cheri D. commented Jan 26, 2007
Thanks for caring, Mona and Cheri.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
David Kuo, I may have missed him on the list.
tomi r. commented Jan 26, 2007
You're right, this is enough to scare hell out of anyone. Thanks for keeping it updated!
Marilyn N. commented Jan 26, 2007
Very glad you reposted this one, Sandy.
Lori Leidig commented Jan 27, 2007
I wrote this article late in 2004, and have tried to keep it updated since. In the past, I have added to the end of the article, keeping events in chronological order. This time, I will present the newest information first, with a divider before the original article.
In an editorial titled, Dropping Like Flies, the Houston Chronicle discusses the resigntions of 11 U.S. attorneys--some of whom enjoyed commendable performance records--in the past year. The article opens for discussion a possible connection to a new provision to the Patriot Act that allows the Bush administration to fill vacancies without submitting them to the Senate for confirmation. I urge you to read this editorial and look for more information on the subject.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tom Ridge announced his resignation on November 30, 2004 He promises to stay in office until a replacement has been trained to change the color on the terror alert system and tell us when to duct tape our homes (likely around elections or when Home Depot can use the tape sales).
What does it mean when the Secretary of Homeland Security resigns because he needs a private sector job in order to afford to send his two children to college? Should we send military recruiters to offer his children the same enticing options other underprivileged students hear now the War President has delivered tuition hikes and grant cuts? Is it time to raise the minimum wage to ninety dollars an hour, to keep other American families from falling into this unbearable level of poverty? Maybe we need to outsource the Department of Homeland Security to overseas workers who know how to survive on pathetic salaries.
Then again, it might benefit us to consider asking someone other than the War President to nominate Mr. Ridge's replacement. I fear his wont for traditional family values hampers his objectivity, since Karen Hughes, War President advisor, Ari Fleisher, War President press secretary, Christine Todd Whitman, Administrator, Environmental Protection Agency, Rosario Marin, Treasury Department, and Peter Fisher, Undersecretary, Treasury Department, all left their positions because they wanted to spend more time with their families.
In March 2003, Janet Rehnquist resigned as inspector general of the Health and Human Services Department after a controversial tenure and while Congress investigated, among other things, her decision to delay an audit of Florida's pension fund at the request of Governor Jeb Bush's office. She cited wanting to spend more time with her family as the reason for her resignation also. If nepotism counts as a family issue, Armitage Richards, Deputy Secretary of State, offered as his reason for resigning that he came with the secretary and would leave with him. Victoria Clarke, Pentagon Spokesperson, left for personal reasons, which might qualify as a family related matter, as does Army General Wayne Downing's resignation from his post as deputy national security advisor to return to the more relaxed life of fine-tuning trout fishing.
Why then, does the War President offer family history and close friendships as selling points for his most recent nominations, Alberto Gonzales, and Carlos M. Gutierrez? I asked myself that question, but then realized that as striking as the family issue seems, it was not the only, or even the most commonly used reason for resignations by his appointees.
Some others left in groups, so I consider the possibility that it is a syndrome much like girls going to the bathroom in packs. J. Cofer Black, the State Department official in charge of counterterrorism, and Robert Blackwell, a former ambassador to India who was overseeing Iraq strategy at the National Security Council both resigned this month, neither citing family commitments as a reason. At the same time, department spokesman Adam Ereli said he would end his 30-year government career in a matter of weeks. Two U.S. diplomats, John H. Brown and John Brady Kiesling resigned from Foreign Service in protest against the War President's approach to disarming Saddam Hussein's Iraq.
Colin Powell, Secretary of State, Anne Veneman, Agriculture Secretary, Rod Paige, Education Secretary, and Spencer Abraham, Energy Secretary all announced resignations within weeks after the last election. Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill, and White House senior economic advisor Larry Lindsey, submitted their resignations on the same December day in 2002 as administration officials began reshuffling the War President's financial team. John Ashcroft, Attorney General, decided to look for new horizons at the same time Don Evans, Commerce Secretary, decided it was time to go home. J.D. Crouch II, Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Policy, offers a plan to return to academia as the reason for his resignation, effective Friday.
The War President has seen changes in warheads. US Commander of Central Command, General Tommy Franks, U.S. Army, resigned mid-war because he planned to retire from active duty the following summer. Colonel Douglas Macgregor of the US Army retired, criticizing a "sycophantic" army culture that he blames for failures in Iraq and wasteful investments in new technology and saw no possibility of fundamentally positive reform for the current strategic environment or the future. Thomas White, Army Secretary, resigned in April 2003, although it is rumored Donald Rumsfeld fired him.
The CIA suffered many losses, including that of Director George Tenet, who resigned after he testified before the 9/11 Commission. Stephen R. Kappes, the deputy director for operations, and his deputy, Michael J. Sulick, each left after serving twenty-three years. David Kays, former chief U.S. weapons inspector in Iraq left his position, stating the CIA and other agencies failed to recognize that Saddam Hussein all but abandoned efforts to produce large quantities of chemical and biological agents after the 1991 Gulf War, and accused U.S. intelligence agencies of widespread failures in evaluating pre-war Iraqi weapons programs. In June 2004, James Pavitt, a thirty-one-year veteran of the leading U.S. spy agency resigned the day after the agency's director announced he would leave.
Mike Dombeck, Forest Service chief, resigned March 27, 2001 because he wasn't happy with the new direction the administration wanted to take the Forest Service in. Eric Schaeffer, director of the EPA Office of Regulatory Enforcement, resigned February 27, 2002 stating he was fighting a White House that seemed determined to weaken the rules he was trying to enforce. John Brady Kiesling, a twenty-year veteran of the Foreign Service, resigned on February 27, 2003 because he had "tried and failed to reconcile his conscience with his ability to represent the current administration." Karen Kwiatkowski, office of the undersecretary of defense, Near East Bureau, resigned on July 1, 2003, because she believed the environment in which decisions about post war Iraq were made were " aberrant, pervasive, and contrary to good order and discipline". Isam al-Khafaji, former member of the Iraqi reconstruction council, resigned because he wanted to leave with a clear conscience and did not want to be a collaborator with occupying forces.
Richard Perle, chairman of the Defense Policy Board resigned in March 2003, because of a conflict of interest. John Poindexter, Pentegon, resigned following his involvement in an ill-fated plan to launch an online futures market for betting on Middle Eastern developments that was advertised as a vehicle for profiting on assassinations and other terrorist acts. Examples included the possibility of betting on the assassination of Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat or the overthrow of Jordan's monarchy.
Jack Pritchard, the special envoy for negotiations with North Korea, resigned at a critical moment in August 2003. Paul Redmond, America's top spy catcher, resigned suddenly in the middle of his secret investigation into how Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden allegedly obtained US computer software.
Mark Weinberger, a corporate tax lobbyist who became the War President's top tax policy advisor resigned in March 2002, after one year on the job, amid heightened scrutiny of his Office of Tax Policy. In October 2003, Dennis McKinney resigned after three years with the EPA because the Regional Administrator did not want the EPA to oppose state positions.
Thomas Scully, Medicare and Medicaid administrator, resigned in December 2003, saying millions would lose out on the promise of better benefits under the new Medicare bill signed by the War President. AIDS Panel Director, Patricia Ware, resigned her position at HHS in February 2003, after a controversy in which someone she had selected for the panel withdrew amid revelations that he had made anti-gay comments.
When Mitch Daniels, Budget Director, resigned on May 6, 2003 to run for Governor of Indiana, he was the last remaining member of the War President's original economic team remaining.
I've probably forgotten a few, fired someone who didn't really resign, and possibly mixed up reasons for resignations. The swinging door makes me dizzy. I encourage you to follow the links; read in their own words why so many resigned. With a record like this, should we feel comfortable with the War President's nominations and appointments for those positions vacated since November 2?
11/9/05 update: (sorry I can't keep up. Hopefully, there will have been more before this hits the web- like Bush, Cheney, Rove, Rice, Rumsfeld)
Scooter Libby
Bunnatine ("Bunny") Greenhouse
Richard Clarke -National Security Council, terrorism advisor – became disillusioned with Bush's "terrible job"
Paul O'Neill – Secretary of Treasury -He, like Clarke, recalled Bush's Iraq fixation. "From the very beginning, there was a conviction, that Saddam Hussein was a bad person and that he needed to go," said O'Neill, a permanent member of the National Security Council. "It was all about finding a way to do it. That was the tone of it. The president saying 'Go find me a way to do this.'" Fired, December 6, 2002.
Michael Brown
Flynt Leverett – Senior Director for Middle East Affairs
Ben Miller – CIA staffer and Iraq expert with the NSC
Hillary Mann – foreign service officer on detail to the NSC as the Director for Iran and Persian Gulf Affairs
Larry Lindsey – top economic advisor
Ann Wright – career diplomat in Foreign Service
John Brady Kiesling – career diplomat serving four presidents over twenty years
3/10/06 update
John Brown – veteran of Foreign Service (24+ years) "I cannot in good conscience support President Bush's war plans against Iraq. The president has failed to: explain clearly why our brave men and women in uniform should be ready to sacrifice their lives in a war on Iraq at this time; to lay out the full ramifications of this war, including the extent of innocent civilian casualties; to specify the economic costs of the war for the ordinary Americans; to clarify how the war would help rid the world of terror; [and] to take international public opinion against the war into serious consideration." Resigned, March 10, 2003.
Rand Beers – National Security Council, Senior Director for combating terrorism
Karen Kwiatkowski – Lt. Colonel, Air Force I observed the environment in which decisions about post-war Iraq were made… What I saw was aberrant, pervasive and contrary to good order and discipline. If one is seeking the answers to why peculiar bits of 'intelligence' found sanctity in a presidential speech, or why the post-Hussein occupation has been distinguished by confusion and false steps, one need look no further than the process inside the Office of the Secretary of Defense."
Retired, July 2003
Claude Allen
Larry Lindsey
Anne Wright
Major John Carr and Major Robert Preston – Air Force Prosecutors - quit their posts in 2004 rather than take part in trials under the military commission system President Bush created in 2001 which they considered "rigged against alleged terrorists held at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba." Requested and granted reassignment, 2004.
Captain Carrie Wolf – USAF – asked to leave due to concerns commissions for trying prisoners at Guantanamo Bay were unjust
John Carlin – Archivist
Susan Wood
Frank Davidoff - "I can no longer associate myself with an organization that is capable of making such an important decision so flagrantly on the basis of political influence
Joanne Wilson - commissioner of the Department of Education's Rehabilitation Services Administration Joanne Wilson, who left her job as commissioner of the Rehabilitation Services Administration on March 1, now says she quit in protest of what she said were the administration's largely unnoticed efforts to gut the office's funding and staffing.
"Programs for people with disabilities are being dismantled, and nobody is crying out and saying, 'Look what's happening,' " said Wilson, who, as RSA commissioner, was one of the government's highest-ranking disabled officials.
Tony Oppegard & Jack Spadaro
Teresa Chambers - U.S. Park Police Chief - UPDATE: 4/12/06 - Note from Teresa Chambers: "You can read more about my case at a website my husband established, www.HonestChief.com,. While there, you can also hear some of the previous stories posted by its webmaster as well as many of my media interviews in the audio library, accessed via a button at the top left of the home page. Please be sure to start with the "First Time Visitor" button on the left side of the home page. "
"This siutation has far reaching implications for every American. Please consider keeping this story alive by informing others of these outrageous actions by certain Federal officials who should be concerned for your safety and who should be upholding the values of freedom of speech and of honesty and integrity in government. Feel free to reach out to me for any additional information I can provide."
Teresa Chambers
www.HonestChief.com
Sylvia Lowrance – EPA official - "This Administration has pulled cases and put investigations on ice," Lowrance says. "They sent every signal they can to staff to back off. When you stop enforcing, there are implications to the entire compliance system. If no one believes EPA is going to enforce, overall compliance rates go down. The saddest thing is not these individual instances of nonenforcement, but what has happened to the reputation of the program itself.
"I fear that with lax EPA enforcement, corporate leaders are not going to spend scarce resources to expand compliance programs."
George C. Deutsch – young presidential appointee at NASA - Mr. Deutsch's resignation came on the same day that officials at Texas A&M University confirmed that he did not graduate from there
3/29/06 Andy Card, Gale Norton
(guess I need to alphabetize these soon)
Claude Allen was arrested on Jan. 2. That night he met with Chief of Staff Andy Card and White House Counsel Harriet Miers to discuss the charges. According to McClellan, Allen told them the incident was a misunderstanding stemming from credit card confusion because he had moved a number of times. "He assured them that he had done nothing wrong, and that he was working to get the matter cleared up," said McClellan at a news conference.
A few days after the Jan. 2 meeting, Allen told staff members that he had been thinking about leaving from his position because he wanted to spend more time with his family. He waited until after the State of the Union address to resign and completed his last day on Feb. 17. Allen's trial is set for April 27. If convicted he could face 30 years in jail and/or $50,000 in fines.
Tom DeLay Leaves U.S. Politics with Low Numbers – 4/4/06 DeLay faces a charge of money laundering for allegedly using funds from corporate donors to support legislative candidates in Texas. If convicted, DeLay could be fined up to $10,000 U.S. and sentenced to six months to two years in jail.
4/19/06 - Scott McClellan and Karl Rove
5/5/06 - Teresa Chambers Featured in New Book Profiling Patriotic Americans
Note from Teresa Chambers:
During the past year, I was interviewed by Bill Katovsky for his book, "Patriots Act: Voices of Dissent and the Risk of Speaking Out."
Chapter 16 of the book, which is now available for sale, is entitled "The Honest Chief." I am humbled to be included among the courageous giants included in "Patriots Act." You can read more about the book, including brief, selected excerpts, at www.HonestChief.com.
Also on 5/5/06 - CIA Director Porter Goss Resigns. The news of the Goss resignation comes as new poll numbers continue to cause dismay for Republicans.
6/06 John Snow, Treasure Secretary, resigns in another chapter of a White House shake-up to revive President Bush's troubled presidency
Sept 29, 2006 - Rep. Mark Foley (news, bio, voting record), R-Fla., abruptly resigned from Congress on Friday in the wake of questions about e-mails he wrote a former teenage male page.
Nov 8, 2006 - Bush names Gates to replace Donald Rumsfeld.
Dec 4, 2006 - John Bolton, US President George W Bush's contentious and outspoken choice as United Nations ambassador, has given up his post in the face of stiff opposition in Congress
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Comments: 15
I can't find the defeated Supreme Court Nominee from TX-- what's her name -- she resigned 2-3 weeks ago without much notice, you know the lap-poodle. The one who vetted and recruited for the team...
Mary C Legg commented Jan 25, 2007
Shoot, Mary. I can picture her clearly and her name escapes me. I'll go look her up if I don't think of it in a few minutes.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
Miers?
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
There have been several articles in the papers about the US Attorneys who were fired. It seems that some of them conducted investigations that the Bushies were uncomfortable with...like Congressional graft, warrantless wiretapping, etc. Also, the replacements are Bush cronies, so it's political payback and payoff, all in one package.
Congress is protesting this...the appointments have been made by the AG, and he does not have a Constitutional right to do that. And Congress is supposed to review the appointments. Like everything else this president does, it's a usurpation of power by the Executive branch. The Constitution is going to need some major repairs after we get rid of these jerks. It's been bent and twisted and broken for five years now...and the damage probably isn't over yet.
Bert B. commented Jan 25, 2007
That's what it looks like to me, Bert. A blatant abuse of power. It scares me to hear people say, "Only two more years." Two more years of the same could be the end of everything as we've known it.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
Seems like the public belong in there somewhere . . . maybe Nov. 7th.
John Knight [pb] commented Jan 25, 2007
I thought that Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill made them fire him. The book written about his experience is enough to set your teeth on edge.
George McNaughton commented Jan 25, 2007
Hi Sandy -- we haven't met (John O. is my longtime boyfriend and sings your praises, with, I've discovered, good reason), but I think you're terrific, by virtue of politics if nothing else. This is an excellent article and frankly deserves publication in print for a wider audience. I don't think I've seen anything like it, and I read obsessively about politics, egged on by fear that my government is out to get me and everyone like me (and everyone I speak to on the phone, email, send a Christmas card to, etc.).
The Paul O'Neill book, The Price of Loyalty, is a good illustration of your point -- not only does it detail the road that drove him to resign, it also chronicles the experience of Christine Todd Whitman, who now seems like one of the harmless Republicans, though I'm sure it's only by comparison. And I've wondered for literally years now if anyone in the press who discussed that book remembers the memo in favor of regime change in Iraq dated January 2001. How could the press let this slip? How could no one except apparently I remember this detail? Why the hell am I asking such stupid questions?
One more thing -- I don't mean this badly in general but it's so very, very refreshing to read an article that's grammatically perfect. Thank you, and thank the English teacher or parent that must have drilled this into you the way they drilled it into me. Nice to meet you!
Kris M. commented Jan 25, 2007
Kris, I am so happy to meet you. Your questions are not stupid, they are the questions we should all be asking, loudly, until we get some answers. The media lets these things slip because they are 'owned' and also because when anything really big happens, it seems something less significant but more interesting to people who believe "ignorance is bliss" takes its place.
I have published this article several times over the years, on a number of sites. Once, when I published here, one of the people listed in this article joined Gather so she could send a message to thank me and to keep me updated on the status of her situation. That gives me hope that more people read than comment. Seeing this information collected in one place should be a red flag. All I hope to do is raise the questions and encourage others to get involved and ask for answers. I appreciate that some of you have suggested other sources and ideas.
Tell John I thank him for sending you my way. Hope to see you around more.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
thanks for updating the list, sandy. it's sobering to read. and i'm with you in that it freaks me out to think of what they/he will do in the next two years.
mona d. commented Jan 26, 2007
"Seems like the public belong in there somewhere . . . maybe Nov. 7th."
Ah ha ha ha ha HA! That's good, John! Is it 2008 yet?
I like this list, Sandy. Thanks.
Cheri D. commented Jan 26, 2007
Thanks for caring, Mona and Cheri.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
David Kuo, I may have missed him on the list.
tomi r. commented Jan 26, 2007
You're right, this is enough to scare hell out of anyone. Thanks for keeping it updated!
Marilyn N. commented Jan 26, 2007
Very glad you reposted this one, Sandy.
Lori Leidig commented Jan 27, 2007
writing exercise 1 - Wedding
I had no trouble deciding which husband I would use for this exercise, but choosing a wedding and a picture was more difficult. I liked the second wedding dress better than the third, and the third reception better than the second; although, when Hal announced he was Cher Bono at the second, and came down the stairs singing her song, it was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Since I am writing about our first wedding, and there are no pictures, I’m in a real mess as far as this exercise is concerned.
I don’t really have pictures of the second wedding either, because it never actually happened. I changed my mind somewhere between sealing the envelope on the last invitation and sticking them in the mail. Since it was too late to cancel the reception, we went ahead with that part. There are pictures, somewhere. They wouldn’t fit what I want to write even if I found them.
The third wedding was about pleasing others. We married in a church, said what other people wanted us to say, in a language that wasn't his. I have pictures. Somewhere.
Atypical is a word most people would probably rather not hear anyone use to describe them, or their ideal wedding. I like it better than weird and I don’t think I have earned eccentric, so I embrace it. My first wedding in this third-time-didn’t-make-charm union, atypical as it could be, is my favorite wedding and possibly my most soothing memory.
We spent a great deal of time alone when we were best friends. By the time we fell in love, we worked different shifts and each had three roommates. Being in the same place at the same time excited us and finding two empty seats close enough together that we could hear each other speak felt like winning the lottery. The first wedding might have happened simply because we didn’t know what else to do when we ended up with an entire apartment to ourselves one night.
He put on music - his music - in a language that I appreciated but didn’t fully understand. Instead of dancing, as we would have if the others were there, we took advantage of having the whole couch to ourselves and stretched out together. He held me and translated the songs as they played, and I enjoyed learning that I had not romanticized the music more than I should have; the messages were as romantic as the language.
When the music ended and he continued to speak lyrics, I realized he had prepared me to absorb words of love in his language. They were more romantic in his voice, with no music. I felt more in love, more connected, and more a part of him and his world than I had imagined possible, even though I was positive I adored him before that night.
He pledged his life and love to me, said he never wanted to leave that spot or that moment. Afraid to trust my understanding, I repeated the words in English. We decided that was enough; the deal was sealed forever.
One wedding, two receptions, and two divorces later, I still honor that deal. I will adore him forever, even if I never see him again. I like the atypical definition of marriage: a close union. And I rememer it like it was yesterday, without a picture.
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Comments: 40
Sandy..very much like an unbirthday....
One thing...six roomates respectively between the two? Perfect for a wedding...
Travis B. commented Jan 25, 2007
I love the opening phrase in the opening line, best. What a hook!
E B commented Jan 25, 2007
Now that you mention it, this is a lot like an unbirthday.
When I saw the number of members in the group, I thought I would try to write something different, since sixty wedding stories could easily end up sounding alike.
I see a misspelled word already but have edited twice and don't want to annoy you with alerts.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
eh thanks for submitting to the group. I hope more will join in and benefit from it. Funny sometimes you can read stuff and not catch the spelling stuff..I didn't see it.
Travis B. commented Jan 25, 2007
Thanks, EB. I thought it might be unique in the wedding story collection.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
This sucks.
I'm sorry, but it does. Why does it suck? Because now I am dying of curiosity. I want to know all about this husband and what happened. Why you are still not married... if it is merely a story, it is done from the heart. It feels real.
So. since I will likely not ever get my answers, you have left me wanting more forever and ever amen. ARGH
Lori Leidig commented Jan 26, 2007
nice story, but out of the pics on weddings. think I've seen two in my life and participated in none so is a completely alien world for me and this article rather relates my confused insights on the whole biz. I really can't comprehend the amount of fuss and frills that goes into such affairs and usually they end up in tatters and rags, so the empty frame is mostly what I comprehend.
nicely written and very persuasive as factual.
Mary C Legg commented Jan 26, 2007
I enjoyed this article. My favorite part was when you changed your mind.
Rose S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Very nice! I too am left wondering about the story behind it all. :)
Lisa D. commented Jan 26, 2007
I loved everything about this. I know it probably seems like I'm just saying that because I adore you, but I really do love this.
The first time I wrote this comment I started regurgitating all the memories this stirred in me, but I think I want to leave it at: I love this.
Parke F. commented Jan 26, 2007
What group? What group? I want to post the story of my weddings. Yours was just wonderful, showing your creativity to advantage. Very interesting juxtaposition.
Clare Stella commented Jan 26, 2007
I like this different twist on a wedding story, Sandy. Very original, and especially since it ended with atypical adoration. I enjoyed this.
(comment edited for redundancy in my statement. heh)
Cheri D. commented Jan 26, 2007
I feel exactly like Lori - nosey! What happened? Where is he? What language was he speaking? This was great, truly T E N story!
Vicky "I Hate Snow" D. commented Jan 26, 2007
I read yours yesterday, Travis and it was also a 10. I'm going to try to hack one out this weekend, but wow I hate to put mine up after this. You two set the bar very high.
Vicky "I Hate Snow" D. commented Jan 26, 2007
WHAAA... Lori said it sucks! I'll survive, but only because Parke adores me.
This story is true. I wanted to write something different for this exercise, and didn't even have to make it up.
Lori and Lisa, I'm an open book about my life but have been careful about writing things that reveal too much about the people in my life. (In case you missed my non-involvement in the famous people group, I am overly-protective and can't publish many great stories to that group because I won't use their names.) I could (have) write tomes about this man, because I do respect him, and he has influenced my life in so many ways, and I have many fun stories about him over the years. But anyone who knows me or him would recognize him, and that felt like an intrusion on his privacy. Recently, I spoke with him this and the restraint I feel when writing personal essays. He encouraged me to write freely, so I might write more and answer your questions.
Rose, my mother wasn't very happy about the canceling part. But we turned that too-late-to-cancel reception into her 40th birthday party and smoothed it over a little.
Cheri, the adoration isn't really so atypical. Many people feel the same way about him.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Vicky - see note to Lori and Lisa. Thank you. And write yours!
I was happy to see Travis start this group and excited when nearly a hundred people joined on the first day. I hope everyone will participate and make this a fun learning experience.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Clare - I miss your icon. And I missed your comment. I trust you have found the group by now -- NOW WRITE (link above)
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Sandy - oh this is a great beginning. So real yet could be fiction - you had me (and obviously others) guessing and wanting more. I love the voice used here and think this could be a start of a really great thing - keep going with it!
Monica Kennedy commented Jan 26, 2007
Only you, Miss Knauer. Only you. The best part about those 2 little statements that I wrote is that I don't even have to elaborate.
=)
Robiyah, One-Third of the Unholy Trinity, W commented Jan 26, 2007
Only had ONE church-type wedding out of 3.
It figures that wife #2 was the one who liked to run around......for over 7 years.
Pretty crafty, huh?
Carol and I had NO INTENTION of EVER etting married to ANYONE ever again....that idea lasted about a year.....we love each other!
...but SHE'S better at it than me!
Garet witrnig Snday, dno't wrory aubot slepipng - ndbooy ntocies ti....
Eric Spindler commented Jan 26, 2007
No pictures needed. There you were cuddled on the couch, nose to nose, eyebrow to eyebrow. The soft kisses tasted sweet and the caresses were warm; skin on skin. The record spun slowly and his words filled your ears with joy.
Thanks for the small window to peak through and sharing the joy.
Terry "with a fish on his head" (no bass) S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Thanks, Terry. Now, where's yours? I felt cheated when I went and your article wasn't about the wedding. I'm waiting . . .
Thanks, Monica, Robiyah, and Erik. And TRAVIS . . . I am not ignoring your catch about the confusion over the roommates. I see other things in here that I don't like (repeated words - I hate that and still keep doing it) so will try to clean it all up before I make changes.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
I can feel ya about the repeated words...I don't even understand how it happens or why one does not see that during the writing process.
Travis B. commented Jan 26, 2007
Christ. Now I'll go to bed and dream about hot foreign famous dudes.
Lori Leidig commented Jan 26, 2007
Travis, they jump off the page at me when I see them in someone else's work (probably because I know this is one of my weaknesses and have tuned in to them) but still don't see them in my work. I would appreciate it if you (and everyone else) would point mine out when you see them.
Lori, this guy isn't famous. I have stories about other people who are, but didn't want to use their names in the articles for the "I Met Someone Famous" group. Sorry if I wrote that to read as though he was the subject of the famous people stories. But - he is a hot foreign dude and you can dream him famous if you want.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Sandy, you have such a way of writing that pulls one into the story...as any good story should. What makes it so much better is that it is just no a story. It is part of your history. Me alegra que todavia son amigos del alma.
Sonia M. commented Jan 26, 2007
Sandy My exercise one is now posted to Now Write
I misposted that other article to the group
Terry "with a fish on his head" (no bass) S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Sonia, ¿soulmates verdaderos eh?
Terry "with a fish on his head" (no bass) S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Ah, my kind of weddings!
Madame Donna C. commented Jan 26, 2007
Terry, definitivamente, si!
Sonia M. commented Jan 26, 2007
Although I can not speak any other language, I love to hear certain launguages spoke. You could be saying something smells like dog poo and it will sound romantic. So I am sure that the song and the words were captivating. I, like the others, am left hanging wanting to know more, more, and more.
Just a thought, but what would it sound like if you took your favorite parts of each wedding and blended them into one story? Have you ever tried that before? That would make a great next story. Of course you would have to be sure and not use names because that would get confusing.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 26, 2007
That should say languages spoken.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 26, 2007
Sonia, no tengo dinero. Tengo hambre y sueno. Donde esta el bano? Dame beso. Soy frio. Te amo. Will any of those fit? (Seriously, it makes me happy also, if I understand what you said.)
Julie, funny you should say that about the dog poo. One reason I had a hard time learning as little of his language as I did was that he and his friends thought it was funny to teach us the wrong words. So, I might have thought I was asking someone to pass the bread but was really asking if they had ever seen monkeys mate or something.
I like your idea about combining stories. I went back and read the instructions for this lesson again and see that I might have failed this exercise, depending on how strictly he meant fiction. I was ready to move on to exercise 2, but think I might have to do this one again since I sorta accidentally cheated. (This story is about one man - but I did have another husband after all of this.)
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Sandy that had me giggling. I have seen people do that. And it is funny to watch the reaction when you know what is happening. Of course I have been on the losing end of that also by being taught words I should not be saying to people.
I have to go bach and do mine again also as I didn't follow the instructions either.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 26, 2007
Julie, maybe we can write about each other's pictures now. (I get the better end of that deal)
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 27, 2007 |delete
Hmmmm let me think about it.....No. I think I would really be getting the shaft on that trade. Although It would be a very short story.
Here is the picture frame I bought for our first wedding picture. Then the jerk took off with my best friend and all I got was this picture frame with no picture in it. Ok, so maybe I could have framed the wedding invitation I got from them but it was more fun burning it.
Thats about the best I could think of with a picture of a picture frame. Or I could go the more depressing route of "He was killed on the way to the church" but that is just way to sad to even contemplate. That makes me want to cry just thinking something like that.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 27, 2007
Wunnerful, wunnerful.
Nancy Spivey commented Jan 28, 2007
Very entertaining story.
Marco MD commented Jan 29, 2007
Cute, Julie.
Thanks, Nancy and Marco.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 29, 2007 |delete
I saw this right after you published it, but was on my way to bed. I like this and have always enjoyed your perspective and writing style, Sandy. My paucity of comment reflects my general state of burnout, not a lack of respect for your work.
Kathryn Esplin-Oleski commented Jan 29, 2007
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I don’t really have pictures of the second wedding either, because it never actually happened. I changed my mind somewhere between sealing the envelope on the last invitation and sticking them in the mail. Since it was too late to cancel the reception, we went ahead with that part. There are pictures, somewhere. They wouldn’t fit what I want to write even if I found them.
The third wedding was about pleasing others. We married in a church, said what other people wanted us to say, in a language that wasn't his. I have pictures. Somewhere.
Atypical is a word most people would probably rather not hear anyone use to describe them, or their ideal wedding. I like it better than weird and I don’t think I have earned eccentric, so I embrace it. My first wedding in this third-time-didn’t-make-charm union, atypical as it could be, is my favorite wedding and possibly my most soothing memory.
We spent a great deal of time alone when we were best friends. By the time we fell in love, we worked different shifts and each had three roommates. Being in the same place at the same time excited us and finding two empty seats close enough together that we could hear each other speak felt like winning the lottery. The first wedding might have happened simply because we didn’t know what else to do when we ended up with an entire apartment to ourselves one night.
He put on music - his music - in a language that I appreciated but didn’t fully understand. Instead of dancing, as we would have if the others were there, we took advantage of having the whole couch to ourselves and stretched out together. He held me and translated the songs as they played, and I enjoyed learning that I had not romanticized the music more than I should have; the messages were as romantic as the language.
When the music ended and he continued to speak lyrics, I realized he had prepared me to absorb words of love in his language. They were more romantic in his voice, with no music. I felt more in love, more connected, and more a part of him and his world than I had imagined possible, even though I was positive I adored him before that night.
He pledged his life and love to me, said he never wanted to leave that spot or that moment. Afraid to trust my understanding, I repeated the words in English. We decided that was enough; the deal was sealed forever.
One wedding, two receptions, and two divorces later, I still honor that deal. I will adore him forever, even if I never see him again. I like the atypical definition of marriage: a close union. And I rememer it like it was yesterday, without a picture.
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Comments: 40
Sandy..very much like an unbirthday....
One thing...six roomates respectively between the two? Perfect for a wedding...
Travis B. commented Jan 25, 2007
I love the opening phrase in the opening line, best. What a hook!
E B commented Jan 25, 2007
Now that you mention it, this is a lot like an unbirthday.
When I saw the number of members in the group, I thought I would try to write something different, since sixty wedding stories could easily end up sounding alike.
I see a misspelled word already but have edited twice and don't want to annoy you with alerts.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
eh thanks for submitting to the group. I hope more will join in and benefit from it. Funny sometimes you can read stuff and not catch the spelling stuff..I didn't see it.
Travis B. commented Jan 25, 2007
Thanks, EB. I thought it might be unique in the wedding story collection.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 25, 2007 |delete
This sucks.
I'm sorry, but it does. Why does it suck? Because now I am dying of curiosity. I want to know all about this husband and what happened. Why you are still not married... if it is merely a story, it is done from the heart. It feels real.
So. since I will likely not ever get my answers, you have left me wanting more forever and ever amen. ARGH
Lori Leidig commented Jan 26, 2007
nice story, but out of the pics on weddings. think I've seen two in my life and participated in none so is a completely alien world for me and this article rather relates my confused insights on the whole biz. I really can't comprehend the amount of fuss and frills that goes into such affairs and usually they end up in tatters and rags, so the empty frame is mostly what I comprehend.
nicely written and very persuasive as factual.
Mary C Legg commented Jan 26, 2007
I enjoyed this article. My favorite part was when you changed your mind.
Rose S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Very nice! I too am left wondering about the story behind it all. :)
Lisa D. commented Jan 26, 2007
I loved everything about this. I know it probably seems like I'm just saying that because I adore you, but I really do love this.
The first time I wrote this comment I started regurgitating all the memories this stirred in me, but I think I want to leave it at: I love this.
Parke F. commented Jan 26, 2007
What group? What group? I want to post the story of my weddings. Yours was just wonderful, showing your creativity to advantage. Very interesting juxtaposition.
Clare Stella commented Jan 26, 2007
I like this different twist on a wedding story, Sandy. Very original, and especially since it ended with atypical adoration. I enjoyed this.
(comment edited for redundancy in my statement. heh)
Cheri D. commented Jan 26, 2007
I feel exactly like Lori - nosey! What happened? Where is he? What language was he speaking? This was great, truly T E N story!
Vicky "I Hate Snow" D. commented Jan 26, 2007
I read yours yesterday, Travis and it was also a 10. I'm going to try to hack one out this weekend, but wow I hate to put mine up after this. You two set the bar very high.
Vicky "I Hate Snow" D. commented Jan 26, 2007
WHAAA... Lori said it sucks! I'll survive, but only because Parke adores me.
This story is true. I wanted to write something different for this exercise, and didn't even have to make it up.
Lori and Lisa, I'm an open book about my life but have been careful about writing things that reveal too much about the people in my life. (In case you missed my non-involvement in the famous people group, I am overly-protective and can't publish many great stories to that group because I won't use their names.) I could (have) write tomes about this man, because I do respect him, and he has influenced my life in so many ways, and I have many fun stories about him over the years. But anyone who knows me or him would recognize him, and that felt like an intrusion on his privacy. Recently, I spoke with him this and the restraint I feel when writing personal essays. He encouraged me to write freely, so I might write more and answer your questions.
Rose, my mother wasn't very happy about the canceling part. But we turned that too-late-to-cancel reception into her 40th birthday party and smoothed it over a little.
Cheri, the adoration isn't really so atypical. Many people feel the same way about him.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Vicky - see note to Lori and Lisa. Thank you. And write yours!
I was happy to see Travis start this group and excited when nearly a hundred people joined on the first day. I hope everyone will participate and make this a fun learning experience.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Clare - I miss your icon. And I missed your comment. I trust you have found the group by now -- NOW WRITE (link above)
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Sandy - oh this is a great beginning. So real yet could be fiction - you had me (and obviously others) guessing and wanting more. I love the voice used here and think this could be a start of a really great thing - keep going with it!
Monica Kennedy commented Jan 26, 2007
Only you, Miss Knauer. Only you. The best part about those 2 little statements that I wrote is that I don't even have to elaborate.
=)
Robiyah, One-Third of the Unholy Trinity, W commented Jan 26, 2007
Only had ONE church-type wedding out of 3.
It figures that wife #2 was the one who liked to run around......for over 7 years.
Pretty crafty, huh?
Carol and I had NO INTENTION of EVER etting married to ANYONE ever again....that idea lasted about a year.....we love each other!
...but SHE'S better at it than me!
Garet witrnig Snday, dno't wrory aubot slepipng - ndbooy ntocies ti....
Eric Spindler commented Jan 26, 2007
No pictures needed. There you were cuddled on the couch, nose to nose, eyebrow to eyebrow. The soft kisses tasted sweet and the caresses were warm; skin on skin. The record spun slowly and his words filled your ears with joy.
Thanks for the small window to peak through and sharing the joy.
Terry "with a fish on his head" (no bass) S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Thanks, Terry. Now, where's yours? I felt cheated when I went and your article wasn't about the wedding. I'm waiting . . .
Thanks, Monica, Robiyah, and Erik. And TRAVIS . . . I am not ignoring your catch about the confusion over the roommates. I see other things in here that I don't like (repeated words - I hate that and still keep doing it) so will try to clean it all up before I make changes.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
I can feel ya about the repeated words...I don't even understand how it happens or why one does not see that during the writing process.
Travis B. commented Jan 26, 2007
Christ. Now I'll go to bed and dream about hot foreign famous dudes.
Lori Leidig commented Jan 26, 2007
Travis, they jump off the page at me when I see them in someone else's work (probably because I know this is one of my weaknesses and have tuned in to them) but still don't see them in my work. I would appreciate it if you (and everyone else) would point mine out when you see them.
Lori, this guy isn't famous. I have stories about other people who are, but didn't want to use their names in the articles for the "I Met Someone Famous" group. Sorry if I wrote that to read as though he was the subject of the famous people stories. But - he is a hot foreign dude and you can dream him famous if you want.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Sandy, you have such a way of writing that pulls one into the story...as any good story should. What makes it so much better is that it is just no a story. It is part of your history. Me alegra que todavia son amigos del alma.
Sonia M. commented Jan 26, 2007
Sandy My exercise one is now posted to Now Write
I misposted that other article to the group
Terry "with a fish on his head" (no bass) S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Sonia, ¿soulmates verdaderos eh?
Terry "with a fish on his head" (no bass) S. commented Jan 26, 2007
Ah, my kind of weddings!
Madame Donna C. commented Jan 26, 2007
Terry, definitivamente, si!
Sonia M. commented Jan 26, 2007
Although I can not speak any other language, I love to hear certain launguages spoke. You could be saying something smells like dog poo and it will sound romantic. So I am sure that the song and the words were captivating. I, like the others, am left hanging wanting to know more, more, and more.
Just a thought, but what would it sound like if you took your favorite parts of each wedding and blended them into one story? Have you ever tried that before? That would make a great next story. Of course you would have to be sure and not use names because that would get confusing.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 26, 2007
That should say languages spoken.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 26, 2007
Sonia, no tengo dinero. Tengo hambre y sueno. Donde esta el bano? Dame beso. Soy frio. Te amo. Will any of those fit? (Seriously, it makes me happy also, if I understand what you said.)
Julie, funny you should say that about the dog poo. One reason I had a hard time learning as little of his language as I did was that he and his friends thought it was funny to teach us the wrong words. So, I might have thought I was asking someone to pass the bread but was really asking if they had ever seen monkeys mate or something.
I like your idea about combining stories. I went back and read the instructions for this lesson again and see that I might have failed this exercise, depending on how strictly he meant fiction. I was ready to move on to exercise 2, but think I might have to do this one again since I sorta accidentally cheated. (This story is about one man - but I did have another husband after all of this.)
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 26, 2007 |delete
Sandy that had me giggling. I have seen people do that. And it is funny to watch the reaction when you know what is happening. Of course I have been on the losing end of that also by being taught words I should not be saying to people.
I have to go bach and do mine again also as I didn't follow the instructions either.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 26, 2007
Julie, maybe we can write about each other's pictures now. (I get the better end of that deal)
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 27, 2007 |delete
Hmmmm let me think about it.....No. I think I would really be getting the shaft on that trade. Although It would be a very short story.
Here is the picture frame I bought for our first wedding picture. Then the jerk took off with my best friend and all I got was this picture frame with no picture in it. Ok, so maybe I could have framed the wedding invitation I got from them but it was more fun burning it.
Thats about the best I could think of with a picture of a picture frame. Or I could go the more depressing route of "He was killed on the way to the church" but that is just way to sad to even contemplate. That makes me want to cry just thinking something like that.
Julie "basking in the peace of my home" L. commented Jan 27, 2007
Wunnerful, wunnerful.
Nancy Spivey commented Jan 28, 2007
Very entertaining story.
Marco MD commented Jan 29, 2007
Cute, Julie.
Thanks, Nancy and Marco.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 29, 2007 |delete
I saw this right after you published it, but was on my way to bed. I like this and have always enjoyed your perspective and writing style, Sandy. My paucity of comment reflects my general state of burnout, not a lack of respect for your work.
Kathryn Esplin-Oleski commented Jan 29, 2007
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writing exercise #2
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Writing Exercise #2 - Now Write - First Person
by Sandy Knauer |edit
January 28, 2007 12:58 AM EST to group: Now Write!tags: writing blind, write, now write, writing help, creativity, writing exercises rating: 7.7/10 (20 votes) | comments: 23
Lacy has her on hold. I know why she called; they’re on the rampage again and she wants my help.
Most of them don’t have any idea what took place, nor do they care. Some want drama and others attention. They team with anyone who promises what they seek, and then, follow their leaders without question. I support the pathetic losers because it is easier to hurt her than it is to deal with them.
I wish I could tell her the truth even though I’m not sure which of us I hope to relieve with that disclosure. Either way, it would probably be easier on my conscience than watching her suffer the consequence of my sorry, spineless silence.
If I pick up that phone, I’ll hear the disappointment in her voice and expose the weakness in mine. If I had her strength, I would do exactly that. I don’t.
I should have written; she would probably be grateful for a letter. I could have had Lacy type something appropriate and send it with her last paycheck, maybe added a bonus. Why didn’t I think of that?
The phone. Shit. I could apologize, explain, maybe smooth it over, and win her respect.
If not respect, maybe she would at least understand, or forgive me for ignoring her pleas for help. She seems like the kind of person who might forgive the inexcusable, which makes this whole situation even more unforgivable. How can I live with myself?
How do I tell her that, because I sold my soul, I had to feed her to the snakes? They complain more; they might even leave. The board doesn’t care how I keep them, only that I don’t let an entire department walk. It’s about my paycheck - nothing personal.
The deal is, I watch her sink, or I go under myself. I’m not suicidal.
Damn, I don’t think I want to be homicidal either, so I can’t win. My deal with her was just a superficial promise. Theirs involves money. I think she would believe me if I told her I didn’t plan it this way? Why can’t I pick up that phone and tell her that?
I’m sure the headaches would end if I would just stop ignoring her and admit the truth. Then again, maybe I deserve the pain.
“Lacy, tell her I’m on another call and will be out the rest of the day.”
Comments: 23
Sandy, this expose is raw and brutal. It's imaginative and the innuendo is used with just the right amount of hidden meaning and exposure. I gave this a "10" because it is well executed, graphic and made me think.
Madame Donna C. commented Jan 28, 2007
Thank you, Donna. And some idiot who doesn't have a clue gave me the one, I guess.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
This was really creative, sandy. It's tough to write a character that has these "flaws," let alone write the character in first person. You created an interesting situation and let us discover it one tiny morsel at a time. Very nicely done!
Corina Carrasco commented Jan 28, 2007
well, you can handle the one-- it's normal. If you don't get a one, you're not socially cceptable around here. ask me-- I know all about it too.
Like the internal debate and the vacillation. It offers possibility for doubts, good and bad in an unknown situation and the balancing act is very good.
Mary C Legg commented Jan 28, 2007
Thanks, Corina and Mary. This assignment was difficult for me because I always try to talk things through with people. I think, because I am open and honest, most people give me the same in return. I express my thoughts and feelings and ask questions of others if they don't find it as easy to do these things as I do. Consequently, I usually think I know where I stand with others. The only situations I could think of to use for this exercise were those in which the other person refused to talk to me, and I could only imagine what might possibly make me react (or not) to another person that way.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
This is what I want to see in a writing sample --- style and flair. It makes me want to see what else you've written.
There's nothing like vigorous prose.
David B. commented Jan 28, 2007
Thank you, David. Since someone rated this 'one' and someone else suggested that a first-person exercise with only one character 'fails', I might submit a second entry for this exercise, using two characters and dialogue.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
This exercise was hard for me, too. I went back to my teenage years and fights with my mother and found I did not want to revisit it, especially from her point of view. So something came to me that was totally fiction, but I am not happy with it. It is in the third person. I don't like the dialog and it seems heavy handed. I may take it down later today.
I haven't tried to write fiction in a long time.
Sandy, your writing is good as always. The people who leave ones are not reading you.
audrey c. commented Jan 28, 2007
Good greif, it's ;like I have heard the exact same dialogue in my own head under the same circumstances!
It's hard managing personnell for thos ivory-tower folks.
All they see are numbers, they have no idea what it takes to run a business!
Great write - and a thumbs-down to the person who can't spell '10'.....
Eric Spindler commented Jan 28, 2007
thanks again Sandy...I wouldn't worry too much about ratings for these exercises. They are after all supposed to be practice to help us become better at writing.
Travis B. commented Jan 28, 2007
Thanks, Audrey, Eric, and Travis.
Travis, the rating doesn't bother me. The ignorance and ugliness behind the rating does. I still hold some faint delusion about this being an adult site.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
Nice Sandy. The turmoil and the ultimate avoidance is honest and understandable. Great read.
Lisa D. commented Jan 28, 2007
Very nice, Sandy.
Melissa I wanna be a pirate princess when I grow up commented Jan 28, 2007
This is very sharply told, and though not the most comfortable piece, I'd still have to give it a 10.
♪Joanne Huspek commented Jan 28, 2007
Beautifully done. My stomach was in knots, even with this short piece.
Nancy Spivey commented Jan 28, 2007
I could "feel" the internal debate. Very realistic.
jadan x. commented Jan 28, 2007
And some idiot who doesn't have a clue gave me the one, I guess.
Probably some idiot who got hit between the eyes with this and shot the messenger...
Lori Leidig commented Jan 29, 2007
True, Lori!
Sandy, this had to be difficult to write, and I could also feel it, though your writing tends to do that to me. A ten from me. The ones are just people who are jealous!
Marilyn N. commented Jan 29, 2007
Sandy, wonderful! Raw and full of doubt. Real life, on the screen.
Expat Stevo commented Jan 29, 2007
Thanks, everyone. This was difficult to write but it helps to put myself in the other person's position and feel what I believe is his/her turmoil.
I assigned a similar exercise to a class a couple of years ago. In the discussion afterwards, most of the class said they had either forgiven the person they had written to, or at least come closer to peace with their emotions regarding the circumstances.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 29, 2007 |delete
Sandy - "To thine own self be true!"
I felt the pain and have been in this position myself. It is very good.
Joe T. commented Jan 29, 2007
The tension comes through so clear. There is nothing so frustrating as having someone refuse to speak with you. It was interesting to see it from the other side of the coin. Very good. You are inspiring me to get busy on one of these.
Vicky "I Hate Snow" D. commented Jan 29, 2007
I like the dialogue, Sandy. This is a difficult exercise, but I feel you pulled it off well.
Writing about such a painful experience is not easy, and you have concisely written of a situation everyone can relate to!
Cheri D. commented Jan 29, 2007
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Writing Exercise #2 - Now Write - First Person
by Sandy Knauer |edit
January 28, 2007 12:58 AM EST to group: Now Write!tags: writing blind, write, now write, writing help, creativity, writing exercises rating: 7.7/10 (20 votes) | comments: 23
Lacy has her on hold. I know why she called; they’re on the rampage again and she wants my help.
Most of them don’t have any idea what took place, nor do they care. Some want drama and others attention. They team with anyone who promises what they seek, and then, follow their leaders without question. I support the pathetic losers because it is easier to hurt her than it is to deal with them.
I wish I could tell her the truth even though I’m not sure which of us I hope to relieve with that disclosure. Either way, it would probably be easier on my conscience than watching her suffer the consequence of my sorry, spineless silence.
If I pick up that phone, I’ll hear the disappointment in her voice and expose the weakness in mine. If I had her strength, I would do exactly that. I don’t.
I should have written; she would probably be grateful for a letter. I could have had Lacy type something appropriate and send it with her last paycheck, maybe added a bonus. Why didn’t I think of that?
The phone. Shit. I could apologize, explain, maybe smooth it over, and win her respect.
If not respect, maybe she would at least understand, or forgive me for ignoring her pleas for help. She seems like the kind of person who might forgive the inexcusable, which makes this whole situation even more unforgivable. How can I live with myself?
How do I tell her that, because I sold my soul, I had to feed her to the snakes? They complain more; they might even leave. The board doesn’t care how I keep them, only that I don’t let an entire department walk. It’s about my paycheck - nothing personal.
The deal is, I watch her sink, or I go under myself. I’m not suicidal.
Damn, I don’t think I want to be homicidal either, so I can’t win. My deal with her was just a superficial promise. Theirs involves money. I think she would believe me if I told her I didn’t plan it this way? Why can’t I pick up that phone and tell her that?
I’m sure the headaches would end if I would just stop ignoring her and admit the truth. Then again, maybe I deserve the pain.
“Lacy, tell her I’m on another call and will be out the rest of the day.”
Comments: 23
Sandy, this expose is raw and brutal. It's imaginative and the innuendo is used with just the right amount of hidden meaning and exposure. I gave this a "10" because it is well executed, graphic and made me think.
Madame Donna C. commented Jan 28, 2007
Thank you, Donna. And some idiot who doesn't have a clue gave me the one, I guess.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
This was really creative, sandy. It's tough to write a character that has these "flaws," let alone write the character in first person. You created an interesting situation and let us discover it one tiny morsel at a time. Very nicely done!
Corina Carrasco commented Jan 28, 2007
well, you can handle the one-- it's normal. If you don't get a one, you're not socially cceptable around here. ask me-- I know all about it too.
Like the internal debate and the vacillation. It offers possibility for doubts, good and bad in an unknown situation and the balancing act is very good.
Mary C Legg commented Jan 28, 2007
Thanks, Corina and Mary. This assignment was difficult for me because I always try to talk things through with people. I think, because I am open and honest, most people give me the same in return. I express my thoughts and feelings and ask questions of others if they don't find it as easy to do these things as I do. Consequently, I usually think I know where I stand with others. The only situations I could think of to use for this exercise were those in which the other person refused to talk to me, and I could only imagine what might possibly make me react (or not) to another person that way.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
This is what I want to see in a writing sample --- style and flair. It makes me want to see what else you've written.
There's nothing like vigorous prose.
David B. commented Jan 28, 2007
Thank you, David. Since someone rated this 'one' and someone else suggested that a first-person exercise with only one character 'fails', I might submit a second entry for this exercise, using two characters and dialogue.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
This exercise was hard for me, too. I went back to my teenage years and fights with my mother and found I did not want to revisit it, especially from her point of view. So something came to me that was totally fiction, but I am not happy with it. It is in the third person. I don't like the dialog and it seems heavy handed. I may take it down later today.
I haven't tried to write fiction in a long time.
Sandy, your writing is good as always. The people who leave ones are not reading you.
audrey c. commented Jan 28, 2007
Good greif, it's ;like I have heard the exact same dialogue in my own head under the same circumstances!
It's hard managing personnell for thos ivory-tower folks.
All they see are numbers, they have no idea what it takes to run a business!
Great write - and a thumbs-down to the person who can't spell '10'.....
Eric Spindler commented Jan 28, 2007
thanks again Sandy...I wouldn't worry too much about ratings for these exercises. They are after all supposed to be practice to help us become better at writing.
Travis B. commented Jan 28, 2007
Thanks, Audrey, Eric, and Travis.
Travis, the rating doesn't bother me. The ignorance and ugliness behind the rating does. I still hold some faint delusion about this being an adult site.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 28, 2007 |delete
Nice Sandy. The turmoil and the ultimate avoidance is honest and understandable. Great read.
Lisa D. commented Jan 28, 2007
Very nice, Sandy.
Melissa I wanna be a pirate princess when I grow up commented Jan 28, 2007
This is very sharply told, and though not the most comfortable piece, I'd still have to give it a 10.
♪Joanne Huspek commented Jan 28, 2007
Beautifully done. My stomach was in knots, even with this short piece.
Nancy Spivey commented Jan 28, 2007
I could "feel" the internal debate. Very realistic.
jadan x. commented Jan 28, 2007
And some idiot who doesn't have a clue gave me the one, I guess.
Probably some idiot who got hit between the eyes with this and shot the messenger...
Lori Leidig commented Jan 29, 2007
True, Lori!
Sandy, this had to be difficult to write, and I could also feel it, though your writing tends to do that to me. A ten from me. The ones are just people who are jealous!
Marilyn N. commented Jan 29, 2007
Sandy, wonderful! Raw and full of doubt. Real life, on the screen.
Expat Stevo commented Jan 29, 2007
Thanks, everyone. This was difficult to write but it helps to put myself in the other person's position and feel what I believe is his/her turmoil.
I assigned a similar exercise to a class a couple of years ago. In the discussion afterwards, most of the class said they had either forgiven the person they had written to, or at least come closer to peace with their emotions regarding the circumstances.
Sandy Knauer commented Jan 29, 2007 |delete
Sandy - "To thine own self be true!"
I felt the pain and have been in this position myself. It is very good.
Joe T. commented Jan 29, 2007
The tension comes through so clear. There is nothing so frustrating as having someone refuse to speak with you. It was interesting to see it from the other side of the coin. Very good. You are inspiring me to get busy on one of these.
Vicky "I Hate Snow" D. commented Jan 29, 2007
I like the dialogue, Sandy. This is a difficult exercise, but I feel you pulled it off well.
Writing about such a painful experience is not easy, and you have concisely written of a situation everyone can relate to!
Cheri D. commented Jan 29, 2007
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Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Missing Puzzle Pieces
The Earth is My Mother
This face, printed on a box and standing upright in the back of the toy department, demanded my attention. I abandoned my destination, left the main aisle, and walked between Fisher Price and Preskool for a closer look at this interesting woman with the wise eyes.
She wasn’t what she appeared to be at all. This face was a jigsaw puzzle, and the picture was of nature, not a human being. What I had mistaken for wise eyes were actually animals, twigs, flowers, and stone. Gravel and water formed the illusion of lips and teeth. A young girl sits beside the earth-constructed nose.
Even if I hadn’t been a jigsaw puzzle fanatic, I couldn’t have left the store without taking this picture with me.
My first mistake was in working this puzzle on my bamboo-colored dining room table, where there was little contrast between the colors in the puzzle pieces and my workspace. The second was in allowing the kids to help, even though it was a tough puzzle to work alone. I wanted to frame and keep this puzzle, but when we finished, a piece was missing.
We searched the furniture and hardwood floor, same color as the missing piece, for several days before I gave up and decided the piece must have been missing when I opened the box. Disappointed, I took the puzzle apart. Of course, as soon as I did this, the missing piece showed up under the piano.
The second time I worked this puzzle, it was much easier. I did it on a green board, for one thing. The real break was in familiarity with the individual components of the bigger picture. I remembered which eyes belonged to what animals, and where each of those creatures fit into the bigger picture. With little effort, I could tell the difference between bird feathers and tree bark, pebbles and pinecone petals. The puzzle was more pleasant the second time; so much so, I took it apart and worked it again.
I placed the green board and completed puzzle under my bed, waiting to find the right frame. The dog ate a piece of the puzzle. I boxed up the remaining pieces, and moved them to my new home, still hating to part with the brilliance of Bev Doolittle’s art and vision
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