Church Camp

This is the post before the Host – since Church Camp isn’t until next weekend. But we have officially signed up to attend the St. A’s annual church camp retreat and that is worth a blog post of its own.

I don’t know what is more surprising about the 18 months since our move to Nashville – that Rita got a brain tumor or we’re preparing to attend church camp.  Don’t know about Rita, but I'm going to start dodging lightning strikes.

In all her sincere enthusiasm for our upcoming attendance of the St. A’s church camp, I’m not sure Rita realizes that this is going to include church and camp.  I predict we bring our own wine.  And vegetables.  And sheets.  And magazines to read while others are praying.  In fact, we may just bring a bible to the closest Four Seasons and call it a day.

A few things worth noting:

• Ummmmmmm, will we be the ONLY people without children on the trip?  This isn’t just the church people’s elaborate effort to widen the babysitting circle, is it?  Let’s not tell anyone we’re talking about our cats and we can fit in better.  [Of course, we’re lesbians, so people expect us to talk about our pets as children.] 
• Thankfully, there are several events that include “…..and cocktails”.  Otherwise known as liquor with the vicar.  See…Episcopalians really are like Catholics, sans the crazytown clerical celibacy, of course. 
• I don’t want to (generously) say that our group of church camp peers are middle aged, but the weekend’s "physical activity" is…..kickball.  Did we decide darts was too taxing?
• Do Episcopals have excommunication?  If so, exactly what are the terms?  Asking for a friend.
• Most of Rita’s and my preparation has focused on which cocktails we’re going to bring.  Somehow I think our preparatory contemplation is supposed to be deeper than the best Old Fashioned recipe we can find. 
• Is saying “For Fucks’ Sake, bless her heart” an acceptable compromise on Rita’s cussing?  I worry.

I can’t wait to see what we have to say AFTER we go to Church Camp.

Presidential Sweet

Best part of the presidential debates is curating the best comments off the interwebs.  So here are my faves from tonight's first presidential debate:

Still waiting for Hillary to address our national epidemic of fat hackers.

This is like when the valedictorian and a stoner kid both run for Student Body President

“Hey, Sean.  It’s me, the media.  Call me back, thanks, bye.”

Give this man the nuclear codes, he seems like he will get shit done.

Donald’s father fave him a “very small amount” okay…give me that amount Donald.  Give it to me now.

“I have better judgment than she does, no question about that” says White Male Privilege personified, referring to an overqualified woman.

Trump says "the nuclears" and somewhere, George W Bush smiles.  "Heh, pluralizin' it"

OMG...is Barron Trump the DNC hacker?

Reminder:  nobody wins presidential debates.  We all lose.  All of us.  We are the losers.

Democracy isn’t dead, it’s just comforting Rosie O’Donnell

I swear to God Lester – use your microphone.

Weird that Matt Lauer was wearing a Lester Hold skin suit tonight

“Its not nice…its certainly not a nice thing that shes done” Trump says of a presidential contest

Hillary & Rosie, why you gotta be so mean?

The Cybers

Stamina is a weird way to spell dick.

Alexa

I know you have all seen the Amazon Alexa.  The voice activated app/device that can translate your every command to your phone/iPad/Amazon purchase (while also collecting your every spoken word for future marketing and/or indictments).  Well, my mother has fallen in love with hers.  It’s like the daughter she always wanted.  

Mom uses Alexa for exactly one thing:  activating her audio books and reading them aloud.  You see, my mother goes through about 20 audiobooks a week – and those things aren’t cheap.  Mother has an audiobook habit that makes me wish she would take up gambling.  It turns out our entire inheritance is going to be Kay Scarpetta mysteries.  I’m going to see if changing Audible to read at half-speed means we could afford all mom’s meds again.    

But she loves them.  And Alexa is her very own bedtime story reader.  She can lay down, tell Alexa to “read my book” and that little electronic marvel comes to life.  But here’s the rub….my mother is EXTREMELY hard of hearing.  So Alexa doesn’t so much read the book as she assaults the entire household with a murder-solving audio cannon.  It plays so loud that when my mother says, “Alexa quit reading”, Alexa Cannot. Hear. Her [so it really is like her daughter].  She more or less has to bend within an inch of it (her?), screaming to be heard over the equally loud 90-decibel book-reading that is going on.  Why I don’t yet have a video of this septuagenarian standoff, I do not know. 

Which is all well and good if you’re not also sharing a house with Alexa and her blockbuster-worthy audio.  As my sister says, “that Alexa sure is a mouthy bitch.”  

It is particularly uncomfortable when mom has selected a somewhat racy book.  So there you are, in another room of the house, listening to your mother, listening to Alexa as “Detective Stern took her in his arms and ……”.  I stayed awake all night rather than risk the dream sequence that emerges from that unholy combination.

The good news is I almost have Alexa trained to subliminally insert the phrase “I would love to do my orthopedic exercises” in between each chapter.