Slice of Good Ol Boy Life

Closing in on my birthday.

Good ol’ No. 37.

Opened mail from Wachovia today. The money those bankers spent on postage and paper was more than what’s in my account.

Whhhhhatever.

On the bright side, I had the pleasure of attending a PFLAG meeting tonight. And yes, I sincerely mean pleasure.

I haven’t been around so many supporting women since college when the Kappa Deltas nominated me to be their pledge class sweetheart. I lost that campaign, of course. Seems some of the young ladies took exception to my preference for smokeless tobacco.

But back to the PFLAG meeting. It was a warm and friendly environment. Stories and personal testimonies shared within a circle of understanding and compassion.

No one’s perfect. But all are accepted.

I listened closely to the mothers and grandmothers in the room, wondering about my own mom, who I haven’t spoken to in well over four months.

Truth is, mom was talking to me tonight…right there in that circle.

Interesting how family dynamics change when you get older. Birthdays were once a time of yearning for lavish gifts and lots of money.

This year I’m just hoping for acceptance.