Christians are Under Siege in America! This according to the Christians who control every branch of the government and media* but can’t seem to get cashiers to say “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays.”** I had just gotten around to renaming Christmas “Retail Jesus Day,” but something happened to change my snarly mood. Yes, my little spinach leaves, on Thursday night, my withered, Grinch-like heart grew two sizes larger.

Thursday night was my husband’s debut in Carnegie Hall. A song he wrote and arranged was performed by the Gay Men’s Chorus of New York, two subsidiary choruses, a full orchestra, and a sign-language interpreter as the grand finale to their Twenty-Fifty Anniversary Christmas Concert. Rob and I clenched hands as they began, and I watched him throughout as he vibrated with excitement and pride.

The Gay Men’s Chorus features two hundred singers, and this concert featured soprano Deborah Voigt as a special vocalist. Ms. Voigt wore a stunning red—

STOP THE PRESSES!

It seems that having his work performed in one of the world’s premier artistic venues is not the only thing my husband has arranged lately. Yesterday, as I was typing this report, Faustus and E.S. showed up at my house for a scheduled visit from New York. They and Rob dragged me hither and yon across Baltimore, leaving Rob’s parents and sister (on the east coast for the concert) to get some work done at the house.

Little did I know.

A frantic phone call that the house alarm was acting up. Rindy just inside the door saying, “Thank god you’re here! Come and look at this!” Stumbling down into the living room to find a group of ne’er-do-wells standing there smirking at the bemused expression on my face. And then, the primal yell . . .

Surprise!

Oh, my little garlic cloves, it was a surprise. My twenty-third birthday is next week, a fact I had intended to flog into your brains with the ferocity of a televangelist. But you knew all along, didn’t you? And you came bearing food and gifts and birthday haiku.

I am truly, truly touched.

Now get out of my house before I call the cops.




* You will see more of this histrionic self-victimization the greater their power grows, mark my words. It’s how all fascists justify their atrocities.

** I have written on this topic before, but maroons such as Bill O’Reilly and Lou Dobbs make parody passé.