What's that smell...?

...Why....it's Jesus!

Sorry I've been gone - I can hardly fend off the complaints of my, apparently, innumerable fans. I’ve been busy, you see, though I know you’re all busy and that’s no excuse.

So, let’s see…I went to Charleston, SC last week to a seminar about the online submission system that most medical journals use. Charleston is built on top of a swamp, you see, which you can tell by the swampy smell that permeates the town. Except for the lobby of my hotel, which smelled like asparagus piss. Beggars shouldn’t be choosers, I guess – I DID have free wireless internet access in my room, a sofa AND an easy chair, and room service that was quick as you please. Plus, every item on the room service menu came with either fried green tomatoes OR buttermilk-fried oysters. Yum!

There was a gal at the conference who couldn’t stop talking about the excitement of being on the volunteer fire department, back in Kansas or New Jersey wherever she was from. I bet it IS exciting, especially for the people whose homes are on fire, since she also disclosed that she’s BLIND IN ONE EYE.

And the person who drives the fire truck is deaf.

I returned to face an endless week of rehearsals and performances. Jet and I have ill-advisedly consented to help out the kids down at the college with their production of La Boheme. We’re making a pretty penny to do so, but I think we would have been better off to stay poor and have a free evening now and again. Plus we both work in churches, and it’s the Easter season, and if you’re not aware, it’s a pretty big deal for most churches. Plus we were doing a concert with the Washington Bach Consort, which made us mad because the hired soloists from out of town were not very good, and the people who did little tiny solos from the choir, like ME, were BETTER, and some people, like ME, who saw the Washington Post reviewer feverishly scribbling on his pad every time I sang my little insignificant solos, expected to wake up to the Tuesday Post to find that I at last had a champion in the Press, who would decry the hateful practice of flying in out-of-town soloists while local talent languishes in the choir. But it was not to be.

Poor Jet had to have a stress test yesterday, and the nurses made such a patchwork of his chest hair that he decided to trim it down to the nub when he got home. If you’ve ever SEEN Jet’s chest, you can imagine it was quite a chore. I imagine SOME gals would be delighted to have a clean-shaven husband, (like the young lady recently being squired by LSBB’s friend Doctor J, until he noticed a line her email that read “Men rock – except the hairy ones. Can’t deal with that shit.”) but not me! I’m just counting the days til it grows back!

I just don’t know what to think about this Terri Schiavo business...I was tending to come down on the side of the parents, so I asked Code Dependent for the buzz in the medical community, and she’s of a mind to let her go. And trust me, if Code “Softest Heart in Show Business” Dependent says it’s time to let go, then it’s time to let go. (And, Republicans, by “letting go” I DON’T mean parading Ms. Schiavo in front of Congress to “testify”, or comparing her state to that of a crumpled hundred dollar bill.)


I INSIST everyone go to the video store right away, and rent or buy the series set of Firefly, the late lamented FOX series by Buffy-creator Joss Whedon (who also writes a mean X-Men comic, and has just been signed to write and direct a new Wonder Woman movie). See, it’s kind of imperative that you do this for me, because then you’ll have time to fall in love with all the characters, and then you’ll go see the movie version when it comes out in September, and then FOX will regret canceling it, and it will come back on TV, and Jet and I will be happy. So just do it. Honest, have I ever steered you wrong?