We had to get up extra early today to get ready for church. Well, not church per se, but something equally alien: public prayer. Big Guy had to practice his big read several times yesterday, to make sure he could finish before his pancakes got cold. He also had to practice striking the right tone: a little more Martin Luther King, a little less Reverend Wright.
I was relieved to see Big Guy put on his baby blue tie instead of one of his dozen lavender Hermes. He reserves those for when he’s going to attack greedy capitalists. Apparently he believed there would be none present today.
For Lady M’s part, I know you’ll be relieved to see she’s brought back one of her signature styles: no, not bare arms in the middle of winter. Belts! And a very clever design that makes you look twice to see if she’s wearing one of her also-signature cardigans! You might think it’s blue, because it blends into the curtain behind her, but it’s really – plum. Or Eggplant. OK, maybe royal purple.
But never mind that. Today was really about Big Guy. He raised his voice in prayer to advance his own agenda: he chastised the heathens, telling them that “we become numb to the day to day crises – the slow moving tragedies. . .” (with the exception of the tea partiers up in Massachusetts who seemed anything but numb) “We become absorbed with our abstract arguments; our ideological disputes, our contests for power . . .” I think he’s talking about the Republicans here, “and in this tower of babble (that’s right, check the transcript) we lose the sound of God’s voice.” Although not for long, Big Guy’s pretty much got the airwaves covered 24/7.
In case you’re wondering, we had orange juice, sausage and pancakes. A short stack for Lady M.