"FUCK YOU. YOU FAGGOT!"

I'm sitting on the deck in the warm glow of the setting sun, enjoying a cold beer, doing my cat lady thing, watching Nicole, Spooky Cat and Mr. Kitty vie for my attention. The lawn is freshly mowed. The church is bathed in a golden light that reminds one just why the 1867 congregation placed the structure facing due west. The big tom, that I shot in the morning, sits in the sink, feet sticking up, soaking in a pot of salt water. I've just talked to my mom on the phone and she's feeling better after another surgery. The LGM is in his heaven and all things considered I'm a lucky man. The only thing missing is Shewho at my side sipping a tequila. Hopefully in a year or so the picture will be complete.
   I haven't made a dime in over a month. The bills are piling up. I've hidden the key to the church to make it more difficult for NYSEG to turn off my juice and I really don't care. Life is good. MEMORIAL WEEKEND SOCIAL SCULPTURE is coming up, as well as ELECTRIC SOLSTICE FOXY BOXING FLASH BACK TEMPLE OF THE LGM. Most of the work is hung and I'm expecting Slick and Cowboy Levi at any moment for a little hymn writing. Predictably the passing cars slow to either check out the camels and other exotic critters in RNButch's paddocks or swing their heads to read my billboards written in english and hebrew- DON'T FIGHT F**K, GOD LOVES DYKES AND GOD LOVES FAGS. Sometimes I smile and wave and am rewarded with big grins and thumbs up. But most times I just daydream and don't make eye contact. Let the stare-a-thon continue unabated.
   Nicole rolls across the table and falls to the deck just as a little black Toyota cruises slowly. I giggle to myself at Nicole's insanity and pay no attention to the car....until they stop and roll down the window. I expect the cell phone camera to come out as usual. Instead a young man in a baseball cap leans out the window and yells at the top of his lungs "FUCK YOU. YOU FAGGOT!" Before I have time to respond with anything but a raised middle finger, they drive off. The puzzled cats look at me, as if to ask WTF? I don't know what to tell them. It's been a while since I'd had anything close to a negative response to my lawn full of love. The obvious ignorant hatred directed towards me is disconcerting. Then in a flash it's over. The birds are still chirping. The freshly mowed grass still smells incredible. I get up from my seat, go in the house and take my 9mm. down from the shelf. Back on the deck, I slide in the clip and lay it on the table. That beautiful day glo orb is slipping behind the ridge. Now what were you saying?