Dispatches from the Field

My friend Steve asked me to pick up his mail last week while he took the wife and kids to St. Louis for the family vacation. While I certainly don't pry, it is always interesting to see what other folks get in their mail. I'm sure that when Steve gets my mail for me, he can't help but see all of the returned checks, threatening letters from attorneys as well as the various items of correspondence from various state and local taxing authorities.

I am quite often badly misunderstood. It is an awesome responsibility being me.

Similarly speaking, I couldn't help but notice the stuff Steve gets. Indeed, I found the experience so fascinating I could not resist "text-messaging" him about it.

"You get more bills than even I do." I wrote.

A few minutes later came the reply across the ether, all the way from Six Flags over St. Louis or some place equally dreadful.

"I have four more kids than you do. Please don't bother me again unless the house is on fire."

He also gets one more copy of the "Arkansas Catholic" than I do, so I took the liberty of reading last week's edition. Evidently, there wasn't much of any import going on in the One True Church. At least not here in the Diocese of Little Rock. There was a nice article from Catholic News Service about how the new Pope is cooling his jets at the Papal villa in the Swiss Alps. The reporter quoted someone as saying that he was heard playing Mozart on the piano. Some guys really know how to let their hair down when they are off the clock. There was a weird little piece about the need to maintain reverence during Epiclesis.

For you Protestants out there, this is the moment in the Mass wherein the priest asks God to sanctify the gifts of bread and wine by sending down the Holy Spirit. I'm willing to bet that if you typed the word "Epiclesis" into a search engine, you would find all kinds of crazy articles and websites devoted to the subject. This is one of the reasons I love Catholicism. Five tool crackpot stuff like this abounds among the faithful. Finally, there was a thoroughly pleasant essay by the Bishop upon his memories of summer as a kid growing up in Memphis.

I confess that I was somewhat disappointed to see no red hot flaming letters to the Editor about gay marriages or the ordination of gays to the ministry in the Arkansas Catholic. To read the Arkansas Methodist you would think that this is about all us Methodists have on the brain anymore. What the hell kind of church newspaper wastes newsprint on the doctrine of Epiclesis when there are larger issues like eliminating social concerns and the "homosexual agenda" to obsess about?

I felt the phone buzz again while I was still yet engrossed in my ecumenical pursuits. It was my buddy D checking in from North Carolina.

" My first ex-wife just called and said she's leaving town Wednesday, so I just got in touch with my second ex-wife and arranged for her to take care of my youngest daughter until I can get back in town next week. " he wrote.

And what is he doing in North Carolina that is keeping him so damn busy that he is required to put in a call to the former spouse bullpen in order to relieve the starter, as it were? He is preparing to take the bar exam there. And why would an otherwise sensible man in a responsible position in a prestigious law firm in California and already armed already with three law licenses be sitting for the North Carolina bar?

To ask the question is to answer it. He is in love. To make a long story short, he saw C again for the first time in years at their college reunion. Zing went the strings of their hearts. And thus began their bi-coastal relationship. She has a young son in the home and cannot move. D's youngest is headed off to college in the fall. Hence, the plan to head east to the land of pine trees and big time college basketball.

I think this is utter madness and have made my position abundantly clear. I see no need for this foolishness especially when it ain't like there is a shortage of available women in Southern California. Besides, Me, I wouldn't take another bar exam for Sela Ward. This consideration has become even more acute since I am recent friends with a woman who is, even as I type this, slaving away at the law school preparing to sit for the Arkansas bar exam next week. And to think JL forsook the honorable and useful teaching profession for the wholesale agony of the bar exam. An involuntary shudder crawls up my spine anytime I look at her bar review books. It is indeed testimony to what a great gal she is as being around her is bringing back perfectly horrible memories.

Similarly speaking, honesty compels me to admit that C must be one hell of a gal to inspire such misery. I look forward to meeting her. And I hope she doesn't have any eligible sisters that are as obviously spellbinding as is she as I am not a particularly strong man nowadays.

And so, my sensible advice about all of this remains completely disregarded. They are a couple of crazy goddamn kids in love. There is nothing more that I can do.

Except to write back, " I'm certain that your future ex-wife would help if she could."


Steve came safely back last night and came by to get his stuff. I recognized on him the same poleaxed expression that my father used to wear after a week in the car with his four kids. JL is grimly beavering away at her notes and index cards. D is trying to remember what the hell arcane phrases like "the expectation is subsumed in the reliance" and other stuff equally not germane to an environmental defense practice actually means. Still, I have all the faith in the world that they will do just fine next week.

And that they too, like my buddy Steve, will all come safely back.

After Steve left, I got a reply from D to my earlier missive. It was succinct but it was not fit to relate in this space, devoted as it is to a general audience, as they say in the movie business.

I am quite often badly misunderstood. It is an awesome responsibility being me.