Ass.

Every day I drive to work past a donkey. (Burro? Ass?) The first time I saw it, I was riding with a co-worker and I practically screamed, "OMG IS THAT A DONKEY??" and I'm sure he thought this city girl was ridiculous.

The donkey is in a small fenced area, between a car repair shop and a gravel driveway leading to some trailer homes. I'm not sure who he belongs to exactly. In the back of his yard is a tractor parked under a ramshackle roof. Sometimes in the afternoon he stands under there in the shade.

In the middle of the afternoon one day, I was driving that road behind a school bus. It stopped next to the gravel driveway, and Donkey came running out to the road from his shade. He galloped this funny front-to-back legs rock, with his head down and his nose pointing to the ground.

He was like a dog running to the bus to greet his boy.

And a boy did get off the bus. He walked down the gravel road without even looking at the donkey.

It made me really, really sad.

Ever since, I've wanted to take some photos of the donkey. I wanted to stop and bring him carrots and take some photos of him.

But it rains a lot in the Spring in South Louisiana, so he's mostly been under the awning. Or if he was in the yard, I didn't have my camera.

Finally, everything fell into place. I passed the yard one sunny afternoon and I saw him there. I turned my car around and pulled into the gravel driveway. I didn't have any carrots, but he wasn't so far from the fence so I thought I could shoot him.

I needn't have worried. He immediately came right over to me

and he checked me out

and then...he started braying at me.

It sounded a bit like he was having an asthma attack. I couldn't tell if he was saying, "YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!" or "YAY! COME PLAY WITH ME."

Or maybe just, "WHAT, NO CARROTS?"

But people around here have guns, so I figured it was best to take my leave.

Who Would Hide Us?

The other day I was driving home from work listening to an interview with Nathan Englander, author of the book What We Talk About When We Talk About Anne Frank. He was telling this story of how his family used to play this "game" -- he called it a "game," but he said, "We took it very seriously. Dead serious." -- called "Who Would Hide Us?" They evaluated their neighbors and friends to decide who, in a Second Holocaust, would hide the family.

"He would hide us," his sister said, "but she would turn us in."

And it got me thinking. (These things always get me thinking.) Often when I read stories about the civil rights era, I find myself sincerely considering whether I would have stood up for the rights of Southern Blacks. Would I have been a freedom rider? Would I have joined the marches? I think I probably would have. I feel pretty strongly about these things and the importance of speaking out, of standing with the underprivileged.

But this question - Who would hide us? - this takes it a step further, doesn't it? Now we're not just talking the possibility of being arrested or beat up by police. We're talking about risking your life. Risking your family's lives. Risking everything.

That's asking a lot, isn't it? And yet plenty of people did this in Germany. It takes a lot of courage to do something that dangerous, and that right.

So I invite you, too, to seriously consider whether you would risk everything to protect the innocent. If you do it honestly, it really gets you thinking about what you value.

And then it hit me.

Hyman.

I wouldn't be doing the hiding. I would be asking you to hide me.

Dem Dere Eyes

I've been waiting for my vision insurance to kick in because you guys. I CAN NOT SEE.

I've worn glasses for nearsightedness (can't see far away) since I was 13. When I was 14, I got contacts and I've pretty much worn them exclusively ever since. My eye sight is BAD, y'all. My contact prescription is like -8.5, otherwise known as "Girl, you are blind. Why are you even trying?" But contacts have been able to correct my vision for more than 30 years now. So no big deal.

Only now, now, I'm beginning to lose my close vision. Because that's what happens when you approach the age that I am approaching. The muscles used to focus your eyeballs on close objects start to get tired. And they quit working so good.

Now, for most folks this is more a slight inconvenience than a big problem. Reading glasses or bifocals generally alleviate the issue.

Yeah, not my eyes.

The problem with being super-near-sighted is that the correction required to, say, drive a car, makes the farsighted (up close) correction a lot more complicated. My eye doctor fit me with multi-focal (bifocal) contacts and I was all, "Hey, cool! I can see again." The far vision is spot on. Up close? Not so much.

If you wear contacts, you know that you wear a new Rx for a week then go back and the doctor evaluates how the prescription is working for you. I told him that I was having a really hard time focusing up close. And going back and forth -- like from computer to paper on my desk -- is HARD. Not even blurry so much as I just can't focus.

He told me that the solution is to un-correct my far vision slightly. Basically bring the two extremes a little closer together. But he really doesn't want to do that. And look, I don't want to do that either. I have to drive, yo.

He said to always use the brightest available light when reading up and give it another week. See how it goes.

So as much as I despise bright, overhead lights, I have turned them on in my office to help me see. And it does help. But it's not a very practical solution.

So I've been considering all my options here:

Option 1: Multifocal contacts with far vision 100% corrected (*what I have now)
How it works: Allows me to see distance very well. Requires bright lighting to see up close.
Why it's impractical: Bright lighting isn't always an option. I can't read a menu in a restaurant. Can't read my phone in a variety of circumstances.

Option 2: Multifocal contacts with far vision less corrected (*the doc's next option)
How it would work: Makes it easier to read up close, but harder to see distance.
Why it's impractical: Less safe to drive. Can't see very well at basketball games, concerts, movies, etc.

Option 3: Bifocal glasses
How it would work: Corrects both distance and up close pretty completely.
Why it's impractical: My vision is so bad that, even with the new high-tech thin lenses, my glasses are coke bottles. They are heavy and become supremely uncomfortable to wear after a few hours.

Option 4: Single-vision contacts for distance with reading glasses
How it would work: Corrects my distant vision plus allows me to read up close whenever I have my reading glasses with me.
Why it's impractical: It is completely impractical to assume I'm going to have my reading glasses every time I need to read a text or send a tweet.

Option 5: Single-vision contacts for distance with Rx progressive reading glasses that have corrective lens on the bottom and clear lens on top. (*I don't even know if this is a thing. I came up with it myself.)
How it would work:  I could wear the glasses pretty much all the time because they are full frames (not the kind that sit down on your nose) and without the distance Rx they wouldn't be thick or heavy. Could take them off to go outside, drive, watch TV, go to Hornets games, etc.
Why it's impractical: Insurance only pays for contacts or glasses -- not both. So there would be some out-of-pocket expense. Plus I'm afraid my eye doctor would think I'm crazy for even suggesting it.

Option 6: Lasik?
How it would work:  Permanently corrects my distance vision. Then we could treat the close vision with glasses.
Why it's impractical: I'm not sure the close vision wouldn't still be difficult given that the correction with surgery may be no different than correcting with contacts. Also, big out-of-pocket expense. Also, laser cutting your eyeballs while you're awake.

I'll be honest with you - Option 5 is my favorite, because my glasses would be like a cute accessory. Which god, if I have to be old and have old eyes AT LEAST LET ME BE CUTE.

Anyone have experience here? What do you think I should do?

Wait til you hear where I've been...

So, you're not going to believe this, but I've been on a cruise. For real. Wait till you see these pictures.

Okay, I joke. But I really was on a cruise. Just not that cruise. It was a Royal Caribbean ship. It was awesome. It did not break down. The biggest complaint I have is that the spa services were fairly mediocre for their exorbitant prices.

I went completely off-line, so I wrote a journal on my tablet.

Saturday, Day 1
It took us more than seven hours to traverse the Mississippi River before we even got to the Gulf. The Captain warned that it's not a straight shot, so we'd feel some "listing." We saw the Roman Numerals (XLVII) but they were backwards.  I'll have to see if I can flip that photo. 

(totally flipped it)

We passed two other cruise ships coming up the river. I guess they dock in NOLA on Super Bowl Saturday. Good luck with that. Hope you don't need a cab or anything. The people we ate with tonight were two retired couples from north Texas. They complained about everything. I found them to be remarkably stereotypical. Chip called them "cruise snobs." I'm ready to get out into the Caribbean where it will be warmer. I did not bring warm clothes. I brought swim suits. And given the bodies I've seen on Day 1, I have no qualms about wearing a bikini at the pool.

the pool

I had a body scrub and massage at the spa tonight. It included a scalp massage. It was loud. 

Sunday, Day 2
Our neighbors upwind smoke on their balcony, which is a total buzz kill. We are about even with Cape Coral, Fla., this morning, so it's warmed up considerably. It's very weird to not have the internet. I couldn't tweet horizontally OR cuddle with Shelby this morning. I don't know what to do with myself upon awakening. We are on the port side, so when we're headed south, we have morning sun. And it's bright. 

The band by the pool is playing a reggae version of Adele's "Don't You Remember." It is a travesty. 

Monday, Day 3
Woke up and the Cozumel coastline was outside my balcony. I sang, "Good Morning, Mexico!" to the tune of the Hairspray song. 

We ate breakfast on the balcony, then went ashore for a day of sailing and snorkeling. 

I learned that you shouldn't put conditioner in your hair before snorkeling because it makes the mask straps slip and you lose your seal. Also, they kind of frown on wearing "chemicals" into the reef sea. They only let us reapply sunscreen when we left the shore so that it would be dry and not wash off and kill their coral. The older Asian guy next to me on the catamaran had this giant log book where he wrote down every detail of the trip -- names of the crew members, what time we set out, his feelings about snorkeling. I started to make fun of him until I realized that if I had an internet connection I'D BE DOING THE SAME THING. At lunch at Toro's Place

RECOMMEND

we watched pelican's  dive into the sea for fish.

 It made me feel like I'm not so far from home after all. First day I truly felt like I was on vacation. 

Tuesday, Day 4
Good Morning, Grand Cayman! 

Chip said one of our balcony neighbors got into a plate-throwing domestic argument this morning. I missed it because I was getting a facial. Which came with another scalp massage. Still loud. Today we went swimming with dolphins. 

It was ah-maz-ing! We also waded in the turtle ponds. And turtles are my FAVORITE. I love them. 

I refrained from kissing them. There are a lot of people this evening with severe sunburn. I don't understand coming to the Caribbean and not wearing sunscreen. We had dinner at Portofino's and now prosciutto with apples and buffalo mozzarella is my favorite ever. 

Wednesday, Day 5
Good Morning, Jamaica! 

The time is going fast. Today will be a relaxing day at the beach. We bought a pass to one of the resorts here. Jamaica is definitely the prettiest island from the sea. Colorful buildings and lush mountains. Even the terminal courtyard is nicer -- clean and polished and charming. 

Compared to this, Cozumel and Grand Cayman felt like tent cities thrown up to accommodate the tourists. I thought Jamaica might be my favorite, based on how pretty it is. I considered that we might actually fly down here and spend a week at a resort on a future vacation. Until I encountered the "no problem, mon" which sure, it's not a problem for YOU that you picked us up a half hour late, but we paid good money to spend the day at the beach and you're eating into our clock. It's actually kind of infuriating if you're not a patient person. The beach was lovely and the weather so beautiful I never got in the water passed my ankles. I just lazed in the shade of an almond tree, eating jerk chicken and drinking fresh lemonade. 

Ahhh...yeah'mon. I've seen a lot in 20 years of marriage, but there's not much that rivals seeing Chip sitting on a beach in a guayabera shirt smoking a Cuban cigar. PS - It turns out that reggae version of "Don't You Remember" is a popular radio hit here. I don't know who sings it. If I had the internet I'd look it up for you. 

Editor's Note: It was Romain Virgo. 

Thursday, Day 6
We have two days at sea ahead of us, as we swing past the western tip of Cuba and head back into the Gulf of Mexico. This morning Chip woke up very early (clock change) so he went up to the top deck and walked a mile and a half around the deck track. Then he went and got a bran muffin. He said he was feeling guilty for all he's been eating, but I suspect he has turned into one of those elderly cruisers. We had dinner with three couples that we liked so much that the eight of us agreed to eat together again tomorrow. Then we all went to see the show, a Broadway revue. Which, you know, Broadway, right? I listen to the satellite radio Broadway channel every single day. I know way, way more Broadway tunes than your average passenger. And I hardly knew any of the songs. They let the white girl (who I don't like) sing Dreamgirls. And then they sang Robert Palmer! I mean come on! I know this is cruise ship entertainment, but if you're going to do a Broadway revue, don't do songs from a fucking jukebox show! 

Friday, Day 7
I tuned into Headline News this morning (has that been available all week?) and they're showing a winter storm that dumped 10 inches of snow on Michigan. Three feet is expected in Boston today and their public transit system is closing at 3 this afternoon. Okay...going back to the pool now. 

The Time Machine on Main Street

There are a lot of things I will do to protect the public image of my company or a client. Sometimes it even requires after hours research.

In a smoky dive bar.

A semi-successful local band recently released a CD with a song about my workplace. Weird, I know. In almost 20 years of PR, this is a first for me. It's actually a really good song. It shouldn't be a huge issue, but something like this has the potential to bring you good press --  or bad press -- so you want to check it out. You want to be on top of it. You have to be prepared.

So when I read in the paper that the band was playing at a local club near my house, I figured we had to go see what it was all about.

I've seen The Green Room from the outside -- a very small establishment in a row of storefronts on main street. Weekend nights you can drive by and hear the loud music.  But I don't have much use for small, smoky dive bars and loud music.

We arrive at 9, the time the paper said the show would start. The place isn't very crowded.  A few people are drinking longnecks at the low-ceilinged bar; a couple others are shooting pool.

I've seen this place before. Not this exact place; I've not actually been in here. But every town has this bar. In Memphis, it's called The Poplar Lounge. I spent a lot of my early 20s there.

The place has green walls that look like they were painted with leftover paint. Like accidental green walls. The Accidentally Green Room. There's a microphone on the stage, but no drums or anything. It seems it might be a while before we hear any music.

About 9:45, the "opening act" goes on. Nobody said anything about an "opening act." And yet here we are: a guy and a guitar. Every song sounds just like the last one, and starts out with, "Here's one from my last album..." His girlfriend is chain smoking at a table down in front with her friends. They probably plan their Saturday nights based on where he's playing this week. She is me, in my 20s. In my defense, my boyfriends had a lot more talent than this clown.

After he plays for an hour, they finally begin setting up the stage for the headliner. This takes another half-hour. My age gives me away not by the way I look or dress but how I keep yawning. I even had a coffee before we came, too.

It seems this will never start. The stage is finally set, but the musicians are standing in a corner, drinking beers. The drummer is doing yoga stretches on the floor. The lead singer motions to his girlfriend and now it seems we'll get started as soon as he blows a doob with the sound guy.

The first song is about whiskey. The second song has the f-word in the title. The tunes are catchy and short. The third song is the one about my place of employment. Lucky for me, he's not a talker, and he doesn't explain the connection. Most people probably think he's singing about moonshine. My work here is done.

I want to stay longer because I'm really enjoying both the music and their show, but I'm getting second-hand-smoke cancer just sitting here. My husband and his asthma are spending more time on the patio than in the actual bar. After five or six or seven songs we go home.

I age 25 years in the five-minute car ride. By the time we arrive home, I'm 46 again.

Just the Facts, Ma'am.

via @Carmen, who hid a Steel Magnolias quote in hers, so I hid one in mine. 

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

No but I've had two Kalisa's named after me, and one of them has had a Kalisa named after her, so...never mind, I have no idea how to draw that tree.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

In the theater at Les Miz. 

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?

I actually kinda do. If I have the right pen. 

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?

olive loaf just kidding I don't eat cold cuts

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

One, although technically he's not really a "kid" anymore. 

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?

Oh sure. I'm hilarious. 

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?

No, never. Absolutely not. Uh-uh. 

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?

Pretty sure they're around here somewhere.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?

not even for a million dollars. 

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?

The only cereal I can eat anymore is chex and chex is boring. I used to like Life and peanut butter Cap'n Crunch. 

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?

no. that's a pointless exercise. 

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?

no. not at all. super-duper weakling. Know how many push-ups I can do? NONE. 

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?

I can no longer have Ben & Jerry's Brownie Cheesecake which is the best damn ice cream ON THE PLANET so now I eat coconut ice cream and put mini chocolate chips in it. 

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

their style (or, you know...lack thereof.)

15. RED OR PINK?

pink. Unless we're talking blood, and then I prefer mine be red.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?

my jacked up back

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?

Sean Payton.

18. WHAT IS THE TECHNIQUE THAT YOU NEED TO WORK ON THE MOST?

My technique is really good. I think my form and content will improve with time. 

19. WHAT COLOR SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?

black boots

20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?

cheese omelet & hash browns

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?

the Grizzlies game

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?

purple. it's complicated.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?

citrus scents

24. HOW IMPORTANT ARE YOUR POLITICAL VIEWS TO YOU?

way

25. MOUNTAIN HIDEAWAY OR BEACH HOUSE?

beach. unless I'm in the witness protection plan. then the hideaway one. 

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?

Saints football; Tiger basketball

27. HAIR COLOR?

indeed.

28. EYE COLOR?

no, they're fine the way they are.

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?

yes

30. FAVORITE FOOD?

grilled fish tacos

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

never scary movies. never ever ever

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?

Les Miz

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?

gray 

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?

in the south? Winter

35. FAVORITE DESSERT?

chocolate cake. oh, wait, I thought you said "favorite breakfast."

36. STRENGTH TRAINING OR CARDIO?

heh. heh heh. Funny. 

37. COMPUTER OR TELEVISION?

computer

38. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?

I'm like 2/3 through Wonder Boys and it has gotten so boring and the characters are so pitiful that it's depressing me and now I'm not sure I can go on. 

39. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?

my what now? 

40. FAVORITE SOUND? 

mostly I hate sounds. especially loud ones or repetitive ones. 

41. FAVORITE GENRE OF MUSIC?

alternative. and show tunes

42. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?

Monaco 

43. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?

I used to be a pretty good singer once. I'm still damn good when I'm alone in the car. 

44. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

in a hospital. HAHAHA. I told you I was hilarious. Washington, DC

45. WHERE ARE YOU LIVING NOW?

Louisiana Northshore

46. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR HOUSE?

I can't really answer that without going outside and looking at it. 

47. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR CAR?

gray

48. DO YOU LIKE ANSWERING 48 QUESTIONS?

probably way more than you enjoy reading them. 

The Light of Grace

I've not met anyone who's seen Les Miserables that wasn't moved by it. A couple of people online have complained that the movie was boring, but the overwhelming reaction to the musical in any form is a deep, impassioned love for it.

Why are we so touched by this story? The music is powerful and beautiful, but it has to be more than catchy songs. Rent has catchy songs, and we love Rent, but people aren't stirred by Rent the way they are Les Mis. So it must be something in the story.

Les Mis is a story of redemption. And we do love stories of redemption, don't we? We love to see people get turned around. From street thug to Olympic athlete. Crackhead to pastor. Sinner to saint. There are so many stories of violence, destruction and waste; our hopes are lifted by one who reverses that course and chooses instead service, compassion and grace.

So we appreciate Jean Valjean's story of redemption - that he still has a caring heart after the unjust  punishment he's endured. Some even call him Christ-like in his willingness to sacrifice himself for the sake of others.

And yet...it's not really Jean Valjean's story that emotionally binds us, is it? It's the others. The tragic. The unfortunates. Les miserables. It's the heart-wrenching affections that there are dreams that can not be, and he was never mine to lose.

So what keeps the story of Les Mis from being a complete wrist-slasher by the time it's over? Could you imagine if you went to your editor and said, "I have this great idea for a book:  Everyone is beaten and downtrodden and miserable and then in the end, they all die! Uh-huh! Yeah!"

It is the light of grace. It is that in each of their stories - even the most tragic - the light of grace shines through a simple act of love and compassion. Even Fantine. Even Eponine. Even the abused urchin who dreams of a mother to love her. No matter how far they've been beaten down - how miserable their lives have been - in the end, they find peace because someone shows them just a moment of love.

The real theme of Les Mis comes in one of the very last lines of the play:

To love another person is to see the face of God. 

That is how God's grace shines on us - through the compassion of others. And how we, in turn, share the grace we have received.

Anne Lamott said, "The mystery of grace is that God loves Jerry Sandusky just as much as our grandchildren." If you believe that God Is Love, then He loves the thief and the prostitute and the child abusers and the suicidal prison guard all the same. Everyone deserves to see the face of God. Everyone deserves to be loved.

Well, except maybe for the Thernadiers.