Was it all just a F.A.D.?

For a time, I was prolific; a condition that all too often crossed the threshold into sporadic. Now, as evidenced by my absence for months at a time, I have fallen into the ennui-bound realm of nearly non-existent.

Such has been the life cycle of this blog.

At the urging of a friend, I began my observances of life on the now defunct Yahoo!360 as a way to meet people via a medium that afforded itself greater latitude for personal expression. Many of those connections have stayed with me to this more traditional blogging incarnation and the social web of entrapment that is Facebook. They have read my rants with understanding; laughed at my stepping into the horsepiles of absurdity; relished my intelligent discourse on issues of the day (Ok, that was a bit self-indulgent…so sue me).

At the onset, blogging proved itself to be a catalyst for freshening my mind's eye, keeping perspective fresh and new ideas flowing. It spurred action on my long-ago-shelved novel. Dormant characters once again found their voices. My fingers tapped them into renewed and re-energized existence, only to find them tossed aside when faced with distraction.

On Facebook, I found the quest for pithy and obtuse status updates became more important than the emotions and conversations churning inside of me. Now, on a daily basis, I find myself lost in a sea of "friends"—those newly found and those I've re-connected with from the distant past—who more often than not know as little about the "real" me as I do about them. I find myself longing for more and yet powerless to change this reality. It is as if social networking has alchemized into my own personal Kryptonite, sapping the life right out of me.

The inability to scrape beneath the surface has left me bereft. Words barely seep through the sieve of apathy. It feels like I have abandoned my voice. Sent it packing on a cruise through the Parse-ifal Sea, where Word Sharks and Grammarcudas circle in for the kill, attracted to the scent of indifference.

It makes me wonder if the voices that have been screaming for so long to rise up like a revolutionary mob have been nothing more than a F.A.D. (Fraudulent Authorial Dream)? Only time will tell.

Marriage on the Rocks

Sad. It really is the only descriptive word necessary for this moment in time.

Maine voters went to the polls yesterday and repealed an enacted law that allowed gays and lesbians to marry. What makes this turn of events particularly difficult to swallow is the fact that my partner and I had talked about getting married there this coming summer (he used to live in Bar Harbor for seven years).

All we want is to be able to quantify our relationship. We already wear rings on our fingers. We believe we are married in God’s eyes (please, if you have differing opinion, don’t roll yours). But our love for each other doesn’t provide us with the benefits our heterosexual friends receive due to their having one single sheet of paper…a marriage certificate. Think about this: Without that sheet of paper I have nothing; no legal standing to keep me in my home or pass along property; no visitation rights or medical decision-making in the event of a catastrophe.

I am saddened that there are still so many people out there who truly believe that marriage is to be reserved for a man and a woman. Their convictions—often based on scripture—drive them to believe that giving homosexuals the opportunity (I don’t want to call it a right) to marry will somehow degrade the sanctity of marriage. It seems to me that a better use of time for marriage activists is to prop up heterosexual marriages, too many of which end in divorce.

I can only shake my head in wonder as to how some people can interpret the union of a loving couple as degrading the sanctity of marriage. In my opinion, it can only enhance.

No matter how you slice it, those defending the sanctity of marriage and protecting the status quo are guilty of discrimination. Definitely, NOT something the Jesus would do.

Return to Sender

Somewhere along the way I seem to have lost something important.

Its preciousness has nothing to do with monetary value and everything to do with spiritual well-being. Like the five senses, it is an innate ability.

Outside of the safety of the familial cocoon, it has been swallowed up in darkness. Like Peter Pan’s shadow it has become disconnected from my essence.

I know that it is close at hand, tauntingly within reach. But I am blind to its presence.

If you should find it in your personal travels, please mark it RETURN TO SENDER. I’m certain the postal service will return it to me, along with this year’s letters to Santa.

What have I lost?

I’m shocked you even have to ask that question. When have you last seen a grin on my face?

When is the last time you heard me laugh on the phone?

Somewhere, hiding from me…is the ability to have fun.