TOO WHITE AND NOT GAY ENOUGH

This is the criticism I heard regarding Sunday's mortgage burning Church of the Little Green Man. I agree. But, what you gonna do? I hold no sway over that, except to extend the welcoming hand to the community of gay and lesbian people of color, who want to burn dollars and sing off putting lyrics to traditional hymn melodies- and just happen to read this blog. From my perspective it was a complete success. From Saturday's Bikini Car Wash starring GNJohn, Mariana Louise, Wood nymph Hollie Witchey and Frauline Urs, and One Acre Plot down on Majestic Rd. to Sunday's service, barbeque and disco, this Memorial Weekend was a complete success.

But what was going on behind the scenes? Let me pull back the curtain. WE LOOK FOR SIGNS AND WE FIND THEM. It started with the bees out at WSSPII. All the sudden they appeared up in the rafters. I called Pestech. They told me the contract didn't include honey bees. Of course. Then I called my bee people. Brett Budde and I are going to tackle it on Thurs. Bring your bee suit Brett. Next came the flood. In the middle of slicing up some of the most delicious, perfectly cooked backstrap venison, doling it out to my congregants, I was informed that my bathroom and adjoining closet had 3 inches of water covering the floor. Someone had turned on the old barber shop shampoo nozzle and let it blast unabated against my hanging bathrobe. Who would do such a thing? You can't blame the kids. The kids aren't tall enough. Drunk? No one seemed drunk enough. Shewho says to let it go. It's a fucking mystery. OK, ok I'll let it go.

El Prof made me a giant mohito and I chilled, eventually. Pestilence, flood.....what's next, fire? So now the well was dry, dishes were dirty, the toilet wasn't working and it was getting time for the disco. It was then that one of the church missionaries, who had been doing some field work in Columbia pulled me aside and offered to share some medicine he had brought back with him. What kind of minister would I be to refuse? This is what brought me to my knees. "If I die......" I kept repeating, not quite able to finish the thought. Finally, with the missionary's help i made it to the edge of the tub. Phew! I never thought I'd say this but maybe Nancy Reagan was right. Next time- no thank you. That's why I looked like i was having so much fun dancing.

Wolf Lake on Monday was a dream. We all basked in the afterglow of a service well attended and cathartic. The Band of All Faiths and The Solid Green Dancers were incredible. Urs and Slick on the wheels of steel. ML and HW a beautiful, gracious and HOT presence. My family. My MOM! Shewho working her ass off and taking my shit. Vic and Georgia. Vicky Little Bird all the way from a Montana bear attack. Isaac and Cat, the new Little Cardinal Tristan "Ace". So many good looking people. So much love. So to all the old timers, first timers, interns, and little devils who made this church weekend such fun, thank you. You all fucked up my turkey season. But I forgive you.