OH SORRY

After company, after supper, after chocolate chip dried cherry cookies, after after-supper chores, we put on our shoes and light jackets for a walk. Around the brick lined path, I walk, they ride.  A snow village, I circle on a fixed track, several houses glow, windows open, insides visible.  

From one (the one with the Romney-Ryan poster pasted to the door) faint singing floats through the glass to us rounding in the shadows. I peek. Noone can see me. I stare: fluffy haired ladies in soft sweaters, hold song books, huddle at varied heights around the carpeted room, some sit, some stand, church songs vibrate through their chests, out their wrinkly lips, bounce gently off the couch, whisp up the painted walls, caress the "LIVE LAUGH LOVE" painted sign that surely hangs between the living room and the alcohol-less kitchen, air thick with heavily scented pumpkin spice candle. 

Through a different window a flashing screen life size even from my far vantage point, a man is beheaded, head rolls, hair picking up grass. The bushes outside this house glow with orange lights. The silhouette of a skeleton and vampire wait between the headless man and me. Luke has face planted in the gutter, post-stunt, bike wheel spinning.

Earlier in the day, an old friend I had not seen in six (6) years reconnected with me.  She issued a blanket apology on behalf of christians "we failed you" paired with "how is your faith?" (this begs so many questions. who is "we"...but mostly it calls to mind a now forgotten language i used to know. a vernacular developed in certain circles that gives moral backing to human whims, and then uses human error as an excuse for the infinite chasm between the previously professed divine mandate and the absolute failure of that divine being's interaction in the human condition. a language that does not communicate concepts but simply sounds. or worse, a language that states the exact opposite of what is happening.  at home we play a game "mom, i love spinach. he he. it's opposite day." "mom, i hate you. he he. it's opposite day." "mom, i can't wait to clean the toilet. he he. it's opposite day." )  

wait. huh?

In Malawi, my brother tells me, "i'm sorry" the locals would say as they bumped him, stared, moved in closer, invading his personal space at every moment, "oh sorry" "sorry" "sorry" closer, breathing in his white face, "oh sorry." 

http://www.petergoff.com/watchingU.html  (you can see some of Peter's Malawi projects here)

I laugh every time I hear him say "oh sorry" his eyes sort of rolling, frustration and hilarity rolled into the repetition of such a well-worn phrase. 

Hey, it's okay. NOT. oh sorry. All is well. Just kidding. It's opposite day. oh sorry. WWJD. oh sorry.