Piece

"Take a look ahead
Take a look ahead
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Woo!

Now everybody's got advice they just keep on giving
Doesn't mean too much to me
Lots of people have to make-believe they're living
Can't decide who they should be

I understand about indecision
But I don't care if I get behind
People living in competition
All I want is to have my piece of mind."

-- Boston, "Peace of Mind"

--

Just got some good news from the Kentucky DMV. The letter reached Nebraska; the DMV in Lincoln faxed over my driving record; I can have a photo ID again no later than 4:30pm, today.

It was a good phone call.

--

Getting a new driver's license is the first step on a long ladder back to Normalcy. Like so many things, you never realize how often you need a photo ID--even if only for your peace of mind--until you no longer have one. The same goes for significant others and food, I guess.

New cards are arriving in the mail every day. I used to sign my credit cards where it says "signature" on the back. Now, instead, I write: PHOTO ID REQUIRED.

The things we do for thieves.

--

Speaking of thieves: Just found out that some of my relatives have been stealing from other relatives for years. Cashing Social Security payments, forging checks, and on, and on. The great irony is that the victim in this story feels guilty for it. I suppose if some stranger steals your identity, you feel that it is a random occurrence, that it was merely a matter of time before it happened to you; but when a loved one does it, you are caught in a tempest of confusion, betrayal, guilt, and specialized, intense, focused anger. You know the person who did it. They know you, too. You are sitting in the same room, at the same table, and they have stolen your plate.

It's like humanity is all around me in a kind of cosmic luau, innocent-faced boogey-boos lined up in a chugging, dancing limbo line. One by one, my perceptions of folks are shot as more and more people demonstrate their baser selves: How low, how low, how low can you go?

--

The Covedale drama program's show this weekend went off without a hitch. I was relieved. When your budding reputation is in the hands of intrepid youngsters telling a story about haunted houses, witches, cheerleaders and magic necklaces, all you can do is dress nicely, make an awkward pre-show speech, and stand by the ghostlight backstage, smiling nervously as children panic at the prop table, tiptoe behind the black curtains, and flip furiously through their scripts to remember their cue lines.

And after, you smile as parents tell you that it was cute, that they were sure their little one had so much fun, and that you have done a good job. Cute, fun, and good job. You take what you can get.

No children ran terrified from the theatre screaming that they would never get in front of a group of people again. So basically, it was a success.