If this LIFE is a play, I’m not sure what part I am supposed to be playing. I look around me, and everyone else seems pretty clear about their role. Meanwhile, I feel like I am floundering to figure that big mystery out.
It’s been a weird past week, full of Stepford Wives, lesbians, and religious zealots. I suppose a weird week is kind of typical for me lately. Many times, I feel invisible in the midst of it all swirling around me. I observe. I watch everyone else. I wonder where I fit into the whole crazy theme. What do I feel strongly about? What is MY passion? Where am I headed? I don’t even want to think about where I’ve been…
Before I left on my trip last week, I spoke at a luncheon on a military base. It was a gathering of the Officers’ Wives Welcome Club. Many of these women were new to the community. Most of them have spent their entire married lives following their husbands around from base to base and country to country. I admire their commitment and their strength, but there was something that was really odd about the gathering. Most of these women don’t work. They have not been able to grow their own careers due to the frequency of their husbands’ moves. That is admirable and understandable. Nevertheless, I was unprepared for this group of women. There they were in the middle of a “workday” all dressed up at a luncheon at the Officer’s Club. Yes, and they WERE dressed up in a strange kind of way. They didn’t look like the women I normally encounter in the course of a business day. They looked frilly and girly, lots of lace and floral fabrics, curls, and pearls. A staff member was with me, and she sent me a text during lunch. “It smells like my grandma’s closet in here! Looks like it, too!” I knew just what she meant.
Earlier that morning, I had briefly planned a speech. I don’t usually bring note cards or even write notes. I talk off the cuff about current projects. As I looked around the room, I wasn’t sure if these ladies would really be interested in my standard economic development speech. I was suddenly nervous. The president of the group was talking about a “Home Tour,” a golf tournament, and an upcoming “Fashion Show.” I felt like I was in a time warp! I remembered my mother dragging me to tons of events like this luncheon when I was a little girl. It was how women filled their time. Back then….it was how women filled their time. I had no idea it was still going on!
I spoke briefly to the glazed-over crowd. I talked about our Visitor’s Guide, local merchants and restaurants. I wanted to run out of there. The entire experience freaked me out. We discussed it back at the office. I wasn’t alone in feeling shaken by the experience. Why was that? What was that?
There but by the grace of God go I.
I am home now, and so happy to be back. The conference was in Charlotte, NC at the convention center. Other than my organization, there was another large group meeting at the convention center, too, the Eucharistic Congress. There were hundred of priests and large groups from area churches. Nuns, people in black robes, others carrying large crosses or statues. They all seemed to know what they were doing and why they were there. The seemed purposeful. There were large rooms labeled “Adoration,” or “Confession,” or “Meditation.”
On the first day I was not feeling well, and headed out to find a pharmacy. I didn’t know where to go, but thanks to Google Maps and my Droid, some unknown voice guided me to a CVS and back to the conference center before lunch was served. While I was still marveling about the wonder of having GPS on my phone, I saw a group of ladies wearing bright pink shirts that said, “Jesus Is My GPS.” Huh… Not that I don’t believe in Jesus, but I don’t think I would have had much luck if I would have used prayer to find the CVS. It just tickled me. I pictured myself down on my knees praying to God to guide me to a pharmacy.
Snobs – or Where are YOU from? Oh….. I see….
When I sat down to lunch that day, I was with a group from the Chicago area. I vaguely knew most of them. We all had similar jobs in our respective communities. We sat wondering/discussing this large religious group sharing the facility. I related my story to them about the women in the pinks GPS shirts. The one named Kimberly, not Kim (if anyone calls and asks for Kim, her staff knows NOT to put through the call!) said she had seen the women, too. She said, “Oh yes, I saw them. You know, the ones with the big hair and frumpy clothes. They looked like a bunch of ‘Downstaters.'” Oh, how I loved telling KIM that I was a ‘Downstater,’ too!
The rest of the meal (and each time I was with these people) was spent posturing for prestige and importance. Their particular burb or neighborhood was VERY, EXTREMELY important to them. They wanted to make sure that everyone knew how incredible they were! Bleh!!!
You’re NOT a Lesbian? Gross!
Turns out that I am a freak. Yes, there was the Lesbian Dinner where I was the only one of five women who had ever been married to a man or (God forbid) given birth to a child. It really freaked them out when they heard how many years I’ve been married. 27 years??? Four kids??? I caught them staring at me curiously (and I hope not hungrily!) for the rest of the conference.
On the last night of the conference, I sat with a group from Canada. There was a woman about my age, and it turned out that she was also married with children. By that point in the evening, I was comfortably buzzed from the champagne bar, so I asked her. “Have you felt like some kind of oddity at this conference?” She knew just what I meant, and we sat laughing for a long time. Yes, we were the freaks at this conference.
The last day of the conference, I was alone. My friend had flown home a day earlier than me. I was going to catch a flight out the next morning, but wanted to have an afternoon to explore the city. I walked miles and miles and truly enjoyed myself. I sat on benches. I looked at architecture. I browsed in shops. The only thing that disturbed my peace that day were the comments or stares from men. Trust me, I’m not a looker, but what with the large number of women uninterested in men, I suppose I’m OK. The comments and behavior was rude, though. Men can be so damn rude and insincere.
I had dinner in a very nice restaurant that evening. I dined alone for maybe the first time in my life. I was OK with it, but it seemed to disrupt and disturb the entire wait staff. They seemed to want me to eat and get the hell out of there. The manager came over about four times to talk to me. “Was I alone? What brought me to the city? How long was I staying?” Well, I thought it was all very nice that he was being so attentive. That is, I thought it was nice until he discreetly passed me his card with his cell phone number written on the back. He said, “Hey, give me a call later. I’d be glad to show you around the city.” Oh, I bet he would… What do you bet he had a wife and kids at home!
It was wonderful to see the girls. It was good to see T. We had dinner around our kitchen table last night, and I was happy to be there. Lola and I watched a few retro-cartoons together. I’m teaching her about “Wally Gator.” I loved him as a little kid! I ran the vacuum. I unpacked. I couldn’t have been happier to be a freak at home with my husband and kids.