Fred Phelps

Fred Phelps the infamous founder of the Westboro Church has died.  I've left Baptist off the name intentionally as there is really nothing Baptist about that church. Phelps and his church are known for their campaign of hate and picketing that God hates fags, God hates America and for picketing the funerals of fallen American soldiers.

I met Fred Phelps once, in 1993 at the March on Washington. Fred Phelps was one of the few people that upon initial meeting scared me beyond belief.  He had a way of staring that made me feel as he spoke to me as if he were staring into my soul.  The stare wasn't kind, it was creepy.  Prior to our brief meeting in 1993 I'd never heard of Fred Phelps.

In spite of how truly scary Fred Phelps was, I can't help feeling sorry for him.  I feel sorry for the tortured soul who felt inclined to live a huge portion of his adult life fostering hate and discord. He is a man who spent a large portion of his life bullying gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender folks. What must have happen in Phelps life to make him so jaded and so hateful to the least of these.  I would ask the same question of Franklin Graham, Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell and any number of other fundamental Bible beating Christians who spew hate and intolerance.

I wonder what happened to the poor souls to make them so mean spirited and so far off Christ's path.  I used to get angry, now I pity them and pray for them.  I think that their souls are tortured.

Subway Durham/Chapel Hill Blvd. Durham NC 27707

• 

  I have visited this Subway before and it was ok, but today, not so much.
  
  There was no line and the store was not busy. It was clean.
  
  The man working the register needed to leave his post to create my sandwich because the other sandwich worker was restocking the service line. His unhappiness was so evident as he put on his plastic gloves and then chastised the restocker for not restocking properly.
  
  It was so obvious that Mr. Cash Register was NOT happy about having to make my six inch tuna fish sub on cheesy bread. He tried to up sell me a foot long twice and was somewhat miffed that I declined the deal. Part of my self restraint shtick is to deny myself the opportunity to over eat. Buy a foot long and yep, I eat a foot long. Buy six inch sandwich and that's all I'll eat.
  
  I did purchase the combo though, chips and a drink make me happy and my order was to go.  I had a Subway gift card. I handed Mr. Register the gift card, he was off the service line and back at his register but still not happy,  he swiped the card. Alas there was a balance of only $1.87 on the card. I had to walk to my car to get cash. His tone was horribly condescending when he told me that I needed $5.06 more to complete my transaction.  I debated just leaving when I got to my car. I didn't, I snagged my wallet and went back in.
  
  I asked how much more money he needed and he told me $5.06, I handed him $6.00.  (Aside, no one was at the register) I was not holding up traffic.
  
  I handed Mr. Register $6.00 and he looked at me like I was an idiot and then at my money in his hand like it was some sort of vile concoction and asked me if I had $.06. His tone again full of condescension and rudeness.
  
  By now I'd had it and my snarky response was, "If I had six cents I would have given it to you."
  
  Mr. Register, not to be outdone, smacked one of my dollars and the gift card I'd previously given him together and thrust them at me.
  
  I told him to keep the dollar and the gift card and that I wouldn't be back.
  
  I can take marginal food, I can take marginal service but when one combines marginal food and horrible service, I will NEVER go back.  Sadly, the Q Shack is right next door and I could have gone there.

My Nana

On September 24 2013 my Nana died. I was lucky enough to have some last fleeting moments with her. In fact when I arrived at her home on that day, she perked up when I walked in, she smiled and said my name and was gone twelve hours later. It was surreal.  I felt blessed to have some last moments with her.  That week in September also brought my brother and me face to face for the first time in about four years.  We had a brief conversation where my take away, as suspected, is that nothing is changed and most likely never will.  Interestingly, I’m past it.

The funeral and wake were fine.  It wasn't a huge emotional carnival. Firstly, we’re not built that way and secondly Nana lived almost one hundred and two years.  She was unwell for the last two months of her life and no one should suffer; least of all my Nana.  As grandmothers go, my Nana was great. We were close, not so close that I shared everything with her or her with me.  There were aspects of each of our lives that we kept apart.  That is OK, her generation didn't share everything and maybe I learned that lesson well from her.  Interestingly, sitting here two months out, now I feel profound sadness and loss.  I keep wanting to call her on the telephone. Instead, I talk to her, much like I still talk to John and pray to God.

Thankfully, for the sake of my dad, I’d arranged for dad and mom to travel with me to Ireland for ten days in October. I think that the trip helped ease both of them through the process of Nana’s passing.  We had a great time and the trip was structured in a way to make dad comfortable.  Still, TSA and the mess that is the American airport leave me scratching my head. I wonder, exactly who won the battle on September 11? I don’t think it was the American traveler or air transit system. The screening system is silly, stupid and inefficient. There are indeed scores of blue shirted TSA employees standing around doing little if nothing.

My take away on all of this; enjoy your moments, stay close to loved ones and when traveling through US airports wear shoes that slid off and on easily.

Mom and Dad at the Ring of Kerry about two weeks after Nana passed away.