LUTHERANS, BASKETBALL, AND WOOL

This blogger may be the only male person in the western hemisphere NOT watching a ballgame at this very moment. My apartment mate is as unexcited by such things as I am. Instead, she is speculating about the role of sheep in the slave trade. An issue of which I heretofore had not been aware. She insists that coarse woolens itch.

Oh, and she also mentioned 'boozems'.

About which I am far more interested.

I'm only paying attention with half an ear, but I swear I just heard something about javelins and flaming spears. It all hangs together somehow, but sometimes her explanations sound like stream of consciousness.

There is somebody like that in Marin, who is much worse and not as witty, and in whose peculiar ranting I have far less interest. At least my apartment mate circles around recognizable targets.
Her perspective is a little off.


"Black folks in white face performing slow 'Jaysuz loves y'all' music, like the Lutherans or some other bunch of dull Waspy types. It's ironic."


All things considered, I am glad that my people (Dutch Americans) do not have any dull bits that she's heard about. We are zesty and full of life as far as she's concerned. Peculiar and twisted, but no dull bits.

Dutch Americans are not known (to her) for their religious observances.
And church music that sounds like gloomy moaning.
At a funeral.

I am the Dutch American that defines the norm.

We are all like that, trust me.

Fine upstanding.



There is an awful lot I hide from my apartment mate.



And there is also a lot that thank heavens she is discreet and diplomatic about. This isn't the place to list everything, or even any of it, but she is in her own way a skilled politician and a saint.
Her boyfriend -- the dude in the wheelchair, whom I've met a couple of times over the years -- is a lucky man, and has much to be grateful for.
He's Jewish, but very Waspy.
Almost Lutheran.





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