An Apple and an Orange

A Facebook friend recently posted reasons why we should redefine marriage. I respect and like this person tremendously and understand where she is coming from. She feels compassion for those who want this, and I don’t blame her. I feel for them too. I’ve heard some of their stories and to be honest,  I would help them out if I possibly could. To me, however, this issue is like someone holding up an apple and telling me that it needs to be an orange. Maybe the person holding up that apple is a wonderful person, and maybe that person is someone who would benefit greatly if an apple were an orange. Maybe that person knows people who would benefit greatly. Maybe I know these same people and maybe I cherish them and am close to them or related to them, but that would not change things. As much as I would wish that my saying that an apple is now an orange would make it magically become an orange, that would not be the case.

Even if there were people  in the background shouting at me and accusing me and others who are not calling an apple an orange of being bigots or idiots, or religious zealots, or totally lacking in compassion,  and even if  I would feel  intense pressure to go along for that reason, it would still not change the fact that an orange is an orange and not an apple. And even if this issue went to court and a judge held up an apple and said from now on this will be an orange, that still would not make it so.

I’ve been told that the tide is shifting and that more and more people are now willing to redefine marriage. Human beings generally want to be part of the majority, part of what’s popular, and part of the “in” crowd.  That’s just how we’re made up. More importantly, again, most of us would very much like  to help each other out. But just as we can’t turn apples into oranges, we can’t change what marriage  is and has always been throughout history and for well, forever, by calling it something else or even legislating it to be something different. It is what it is. Further, even  though it may be hard for some to understand,  I think there’s  good reason it is what it is.

The Forgotten Drawer

We read a book called The Forgotten Garden a while ago in book group. The mystery of this hidden garden was finally resolved at the end, and it was a good read. It was fiction, of course. In real life not many of us find hidden gardens. The other day I discovered a forgotten drawer, however.

I was in one of those organization moods again and had started following a post called  “21 days to an organized house.” Step two, (or was it three?) said “Clean out coat closet.”  Our coat closet happens to be a converted linen closet adjacent to the front entry and has a large drawer just underneath the coats. I honestly couldn’t remember when I’d looked through it last. So after I sorted through the coats and jackets, I opened that drawer and began to pull the stuff out of it.

If my life were like a novel, there would have been a precious heirloom in that forgotten drawer, say a carved box with a locket inside; or  a handwritten love note in a lace envelope; or maybe even a velvet draw-string purse with sapphires in it. What I found instead was a bunch of ski stuff:  five sets of ski gloves I was able to match up and a couple of singles I wasn’t; four or five ski hats; an old pair of ski pants that didn’t look like they fit anyone we know, and a couple of pairs of goggles, all left over from the days when there were people here who skied.

I also found a single striped sock, a leather dress glove I’ve been missing for about five years; three other winter glove sets; and four or five woolen scarves including two that are exactly alike—plain navy blue—one still in the thick plastic package. There were at least five extremely mangy ball caps that I will try to keep away from my husband; three hoods that once attached to coats we don’t own anymore; and a plastic bag of dried out shoe polish. Then there were eight umbrellas. Yes eight. I just kept pulling umbrellas out, calling to my husband, “Another one!” All looked fairly new and in fair shape. One  still had a tag attached to it that read, “Happy Birthday from the primary!”  All were black except one which was royal blue with a nice brown handle that seemed to be a little different and better than the rest. Hmmm, I thought, I wonder who this belonged to? I also asked, How and when did all these umbrellas congregate in this one drawer? More important, I asked, I wonder who will want these?

And that’s about as mysterious and exciting as my real , nonfiction life got that day.

The Hobbit—Not A Chick Flick

I don’t like movies about monsters or fighting and when my husband said he wanted to see The Hobbit, I was actually relieved. Even though I knew this story was related to The Lord of the Rings trilogy— movies that to me have far too few lovely or romantic scenes in ratio to the fighting, I’d heard The Hobbit was a prequel to these movies. This, I assumed and hoped, meant that the story took place before the orcs with their nasty teeth were on earth or I mean inner earth and hopefully before any monsters were there. I sincerely thought there was a real possibility, considering its title, that  this story would focus more on the family life of  some hobbits and mostly take place in their quaint cave houses. In other words, I thought this might be somewhat of a chick flick.

Well, the movie started off great—inside a cozy little hobbit house. But then some guests arrived and it went downhill from there.  I soon discovered that the orcs were apparently already around then too and, considering how rotten their teeth already were, had been around for quite a while. And I’d totally forgotten about their wolf-type snarling pets. But that wasn’t all. Oh no. To my disappointment, other gross monsters made their appearances as well in The Hobbit.  Here are some I remember:

1. That creepy dual personality character I found so hard to take in the other movies, whose name I can’t think of right now and don’t care to remember

2. Rock giants—huge parts of mountains that came to life and were anxious to cream anyone climbing them

3. Slobbery trolls who liked to eat just about anything and anybody handy

4. An extremely obese  orc king type character with a huge goiter

5. A giant albino orc and his ferocious wolf-type pet

Let me be quick to add, that these creatures had equally nasty dispositions. We’re not just judging by appearance or rotten teeth here.

To be fair, there were some nice and admirable characters in this movie as well. The main character turned out to be an honorable and courageous hobbit; and wise and good Gondolf had some pithy lines as usual, one in particular about goodness I want to get a copy of.  Speaking of good, it did, once again, prevail, or at least looked like it might eventually. And maybe that’s why my husband likes these kinds of movies so much and raved about it as we exited the theater.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I responded, and I sincerely was glad.  The guy works hard and deserves to take a break and have what he considers to be some fun once in a while. As for me I just wanted to stop and get some floss and extra toothpaste. “Tomorrow, I’m going to make some dental appointments for us,” I said.