An Open Christmas Day Letter to President Obama (Long Form (Yes, There Will Be a Short Form))

Ssal Nogard
1210 S Valley View Blvd # 114
Las Vegas, NV 89102
(702) 737-8683

December 25, 2012

Dear Mr. President,

(I have been wanting to call you Mr. President.) I would like to tell about a friend of mine named Steve. Steve is seventy-eight years old, and I help him out whenever I can. He’s proud and, like many mature folk, is fiercely independent. It took me a long time to persuade him to ask his doctor for a disability parking placard, (he’d rather walk farther even if it hurts) but once he started driving those scooters in the Home Depot, you couldn’t get him to stop honking!

Steve is like the typical septuagenarian. If you hold your hand at eye level and begin from the top of his head, and slowly move your hand down, you can find something wrong with him from head to toe. Actually, that is his joke; there is nothing wrong with him other than being a seventy-eight year old. They have conditions. This septuagenarian is different in that despite all his ailments, he helped with your campaign. But let me step back a few decades.

At the height of the Civil Rights Movement, Steve marched with African Americans for equality. One time, he was threatened before a protest. An anonymous stranger phoned Steve warning him that if he marched with the “Black folk,” he would never see his family again. They meant someone would shoot him dead.

Steve marched with his Black Brothers anyway.

There were few White folks like Steve who marched with African Americans during those days. The stigma alone kept most people away, even sympathizers. But, not even an anonymous death threat could stop Steve.

Fast forward to 2008. Steve was seventy-four years old and excited about the election. (He was torn between you and Hillary, as was I, lol.) On Election Day, when it became evident that you would win, I rushed Steve to a television. “What’s the rush?” he asked. Well, I wanted Steve to be there when the news stations called the election for you. Steve was quiet, and made those funny faces that people who are trying to stop the tears from coming make by stretching their face this way and that. He said he never thought he would see the day a Black man would be president of the United States. (Now, we’re waiting for a Hispanic woman for president!) Steve admitted that after the Civil Rights Movement, he didn’t see things changing fast enough.

Several years ago, when Steve had a close one, he didn’t think he was going to make it. He was ready to go. On the night you were first elected, I asked him if it was worth fighting for to see you become president, and Steve said, “Yes.”

On your inauguration day, I woke up Steve to see you take the Oath of Office. He grumbled because it was 5:30 in the morning on the west coast. But once he was up, he was in thrall. Watching you being sworn in was another great moment that made it worthwhile for him to “stick around a little longer.” Watching Steve watch you being sworn in as the 44th President of the United States was one of those moments that makes a person believe that good indeed does prevail.

Flash forward 2012. It’s so close that Steve and I want to help you campaign. Steve’s reason for campaigning was not because he had a vested interest in Medicare. Steve is comfortable, but not so well off that he can waste his money. He was not concerned about how Romney’s Medicare vouchers would affect him. Steve wanted to campaign because he always fights the good fight. The way he did in the 1960’s. Steve got nothing out of fighting for Civil Rights except that it helps society in the long run. In Nevada, he made phone calls (a real challenge because he is hard of hearing), and we drove people to the polls. I know it does not sound like much, but for a seventy-eight year old (with a former pack-a-day 50-year smoking habit), Steve is one of those people that make the world a better place. He says he would freeze in the January temperatures of D.C., but I know that he would be thrilled to see you being sworn in next month.

President Obama, Steve never did any of these things for himself. Only because he likes to help the little guy and cannot sit still watching the underdog being put upon. He’s one of the few people that I wish I could be more like because if I were, the world would be a much happier place to live.

Switching gears, Mr. President, I have enclosed an Inaugural Poem that I wrote for you. No one asked me to do it. No one gave me the idea. It just came to me (and wouldn’t go away until I wrote it out). I apologize if it sounds presumptuous, but I did not choose to be a writer. It chose me, so to speak. You see, I became an election junkie this past term (much to the chagrin of those around me), reading and watching everything I could on the Internet. I often went to bed with voices from the election spinning in my head. Each morning I reached under my pillow for my phone and checked the election polls for my daily fix of statistics.

Eventually, words came to me and I wrote them out. It does not have a title yet. I call it “A Poem Written in Honor of President Barack Obama’s Inauguration 2013,” with slightly different versions depending on how tired my fingers are from typing. I suppose if someone had commissioned it, it would have a title.

You should know, Mr. President, that I have never done anything political in my life. Last month a few days before the election, for some reason, I wrote the first draft of this Inaugural Poem. I was antsy to get to Nevada to help with your campaign but had some work to do before I could travel. Most people do not have the luxury of taking off work to campaign, and I am one of those people who cannot easily drop everything whenever I wish.

For weeks, your campaign had been emailing me encouraging me to donate, even $5. I know that sounds little, and indeed your campaign messages indicated that even $5 would be appreciated. I did not have the $5 until the very last day for contributions because I had to make sure I had enough to cover my bills while in Nevada campaigning for you.

(Actually, I had a choice between getting a fruit smoothie at Burger King. They were promoting their new fruit smoothies with a buy-one-get-one-free coupon. I had wanted to get a fruit smoothie as it's the only time that I get my servings of fruits and vegetables. However, if I bought the fruit smoothie, then I would not have been able to donate the $5, also a first for me politically. I had never before made a political contribution, and never wanted to, either. But I gave up the fruit smoothie, two actually, I would have ordered mango-pineapple and strawberry, mmm...)

I do not know if my five-dollar contribution made it in time or not, but immediately after I made my small donation, you sent me an email thanking me (you’re welcome) and asking me to make some phone calls. So I did!

I traveled to Las Vegas and only had a few days to make phone calls and drive people to the polls. Steve and I tried to drive as many people to the polls as possible: Dave, a Veteran who had an old knee injury, a gentleman with Multiple Sclerosis, and an elderly lady who could not even walk to the bus stop.

I realize that all this is very little help and would be happy if Steve received some sort of acknowledgement from you. There are too few people in this world for him to go unnoticed by the people for whom Steve has been fighting his entire life, since before you were born, actually, with no reward for himself other than seeing that the Right thing is done.

As well, I am aware that the gift of this poem is not very much. Please know though, that this poem was written from the heart.

President Obama, if you have not already figured out, the point of this letter is: You Are Loved So Very Much By So Many People That You Will Never Know. How does that feel?

I hope you enjoy reading your Inaugural Poem as much as I enjoyed writing it. (I also wrote a poem entitled “A Tale of Two Romneys,” however, I prefer to be positive these days, four more years, yay!) I wish you a productive second term, and like so many Americans, I remain

Abidingly yours,
Ssal Nogard


"Long Form" means that yes, there will be a "Short Form" Open Letter to the President posted soon.

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My other writings:

Inaugural Poem 2013 for President Obama

A Tale of Two Romneys (Like "A Tale of Two Cities" but obviously not as good as Dickens)

My take on Salvador Dali's painting the Metamorphosis of Narcissus at the Tate Modern

Princess Boo Wakes Up On the Wrong Side of the Bed

Princess Boo Wakes Up On the Wrong Side of the Bed (Dr. Seuss Version)

An Open Letter to the President of the United States?

Hm...I wonder if I should write an Open letter to Obama to let him know about the poem I wrote for him...What would I say?

Any thoughts?

Part IV. The Meaning Behind An Inaugural Poem for President Obama

Click here for An Open Letter to President Obama.

Click here for Part I, Part II, and Part III Explanatory Notes for "A Poem Written in Honor of President Barack Obama's Inauguration 2013."

The next stanza is related to the previous regarding some voices still being helplessly entrapped. They are not adequately represented by their leaders. As all the voices on each side make their demands, eventually nothing can be heard, or as you see in the “fiscal cliff” drama happening on Capitol Hill, nothing gets done. Or, very little very slowly. An utter waste of political posturing.

The voices on each side

                       clamored fiercely to be heard.

Above the din there came a cry

                                    of one solitary word.

The Word was heard by all except

                  to each the sound was different.

Each sister spoke the same word,

                   But the sound still felt absurd.

Here’s a recurring theme in my writing: the Tower of Babel. Even if everyone was silent to allow one person to speak, we are all so prejudiced by our own desires, morals, and expectations, that even if we were considerate and courteous enough to take time to listen to one another, we would not be able to understand anyone else but those with whom we identify.

Have you ever had Person A and Person B say the same thing, X, to Person C, and Person C will react entirely differently depending on who does the telling. It’s not only how, it is the fact that Republicans will react badly to what Democrats have to say and vice versa. Predisposed to being negative, a great human virtue.

Yet we Americans still tout diversity like no one else. Lots of languages, lots of things to be learned from each other. America's "Melting Pot", our "Great Experiment" has been the foundation of our faith in ourselves and our future.

Fi-i-inally, we get to modern day America. I wish I had more time to include more great leaders, but there is a certain time relevance to this poem. If I had waited years the way I usually do before presenting a poem, no one would be interested in it. Hence, the rhyme and meter will be perfected over time, years from now, one syllable at a time.

First, you have to figure out who “He” is in this section of the poem. For “He” is looking toward all roads. By now you now that a road represents America’s History, potential choices, actual choices by a diverse people. The Person facing all roads is a leader who is inclusive of all people, rich, poor, disabled, super-smart, entrepreneurial, people who didn’t vote for him (how do wealthy people feel left out again?)

Well from the title of the poem you know who this Inaugural Poem was written for (there’s only one inauguration in the near future). But how can you be sure? Well, three dozen is thirty-six, and 36 + 8 = 44! Barack Obama is the 44th President of the United States! And it rhymes with “gait” and “Fate”! I patted myself on the back for that one, as it was unplanned and came like divine inspiration.

With His face turned to all roads,

                                   He walked with easy gait

on our winding road that split

                                three dozen times plus eight;

with Bright Eyes and Brighter Smile,

                                      He offered me his hand:

“Will you go with me he,” He asked,

                                 “Or will you go with Fate?”

So, the last “He” is BO, and you know it’s him because he has Bright Eyes and Brighter Smile! An easy majority of people surveyed found Obama to be likable and trustworthy. Again, the poem’s narrator is given a choice as she was in the beginning with Washington and Lincoln, or Abraham, George (are you hearing hints of “Anybody here, see my old friend Martin? Can you tell me where he’s go-aw-aw-one? He freed a lot of people but the good they seem to die young. I just looked around and he’s gone…” That’s why if I had time, I would include more examples of great leaders!

Does that mean if we follow our great leaders that we are contravening Fate? Are we crossing Fate and what other outcome will we reach if not our fate? We will not go into a discussion of free choice and fatalism here. Suffice to say that one can, believe many, choose freely and still go with fate, if that is one’s desire, i.e., to go with fate.

However, if one believes that one is going against fate by following Washington, Lincoln, and Obama, then it is consistent with the last stanza, where the roads plural, are blocked by Fate. Oh, ye Fate! Always causing trouble! See the repeated reference to love and hate. The easy explanation is that these leaders make Americans have faith in their future. The tedious explanation follows.

In the first section, it was explained that the lines of love and Hate in Washington’s eyes are not his but reflecting an already diverse population, as America’s first immigrants were persecuted minorities. Again, we see the lines of love and hate on Fate’s hands, you know, the creases that tell your fortune (forget what they are called). Which means what? That different factions of our country will always hate each other? No, more like there will always be disagreement, great discord if you will.

I took his hand and saw the roads

                             blocked by the Hand of Fate.

On Her palm the tears of love

                           drowned out the lines of hate.

The Halls of Justice are not built

                                         within a single day.

With luck their expanse will never end, 

                                Yet United, We can wait.

The middle lines about the Halls of Justice I remember reading somewhere; they were above an archway or entrance in a building somewhere, leading into a library, I believe. I forget the  author, maybe it was anonymous. I think the saying goes somewhat like this: The Halls of Justice are not built in one day and with any luck, they will never be completed. Very appropriate, I thought. I added the last line in about how we can wait. The first version had, “Yet, Together, We can wait.” I didn’t want to be too Doritos Cheesy by using “United” but hey, we are the United States so stand proud.

Why did I end with the concept of justice? Besides the fact that that’s what my muse ordered me to do. An ex post rationalization suggests that America has been the vanguard of fighting for Justice. Thus, if our country were to be characterized in one respect, it might be that we stand for justice. Whooaah, hold on, I can hear everyone protesting now (at least you’re in agreement). Now, there are many, many, many, people who will disagree with that. I didn’t say that we are far enough along on the road to justice, see again the last stanza about the Halls of Justice never being completed, all I said is that Americans (most of us) do try. And it is our real attempt to be fair that makes everyone optimistic that the best is yet to come!

Add to the mix our great diversity and justice is even harder to attain. In nations with homogeneous populations, e.g., Europe, when you’ve got mostly White Caucasians, you’re not going to get the friction we get here in America, so just because we got more friction doesn’t mean we aren’t doing as well as other advanced nations. You just try adding nonwhites equivalent to 20%, 30%, 40% of your population during a recession when everyone is competing for jobs and see how well you get along.

Americans, for all our individualism, really do love each other. See the scads of flowers and crowds of people coming to Newtown, Connecticut. And that's why we have so much to look forward to in the future!

Check out the Inaugural Poem I wrote for President Obama! With Cliff Notes and Cheat Sheets, i.e., Background and Explanatory Notes, the Meaning behind the Rhyme! Here's a nice formatted copy of  My Inaugural Poem for President Obama on Amazon, (with an Author's Note, lol).

A poem I wrote sort of for Mitt: "A Tale of Two Romneys by Ssal Nogard." Check out Politifact, a Political Fact Checker that follows elections closely. Politifact handed out It's Lie of the Year Award, a dubious distinction for the person who can most seriously warp the truth.

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MY OTHER WRITINGS AND POETRY

PrincessBoo Wakes Up on the Wrong Side of the Bed

What I Said When I Saw Salvador Dali's the Metamorphosis of Narcissus in the Tate Modern (Besides, Wow, This is Really Small!)

A Story I Wrote When I Couldn't Make it to the Waterfalls of Iguazu (Iguacu)

If You are a Led Zeppelin Fan, You Will Like This

A Modern Day Medusa (with a lot of Baggage and a Conscience)

I Wanted to Bet on the Election but It's Not Allowed Over Here

Click here for An Open Letter to President Obama.

Having had time to catch up with Nate Silver's 538 Blog, which covered the presidential election in a rigorous statistical way for the layman, i.e., spoke stats in an accessible way that people without statistical training could make sense of all the election polls that came out daily, I remember that about three weeks before the election. I called all the Swing States for Obama. (I cannot recall if I included North Carolina or not, but if I did, I was only one state off.)

Still, I was at most only one Swing State off, while all the other election, poll, and statistical pundits were several states off. Note that I kept with my prediction over three before while Nate Silver, ABC, NBA, yadda yadda yadda maintained that Florida was still a toss up, with most of them believing that Florida would go to Romney.  Most also thought Romney had a slight edge in Virginia.

See Nate Silver's 538 Blog's Predictions One Day Before the Election.

However, I was a true believe in Obama Man until the very last. I staunchly refused to agree that Virginia or Florida would go to Romney, and even on the night of the election, when Romney was leading in Florida, I was in denial (much like Carl Rove about Ohio). Lo and behold, a couple of days later, Florida's still counting and has now certified their state's election votes for Obama. So, even with the latest polls up to the day before the electin, seems the pundits and statisticians didn't do any better than my forecast 3.5 weeks before.

It's like I said; it's hard for the pundits and statisticians sitting in their studio and computer labs to see what is going on in the real world, with volunteers standing in front of post offices and groceries stores, registering voters, giving people rides to early voting polls from churches and back, cold calling threatening people that if they do not vote early, they WILL get another phone call from us. Actually, Democrats registered new voters at a ratio of 10:1, that's ten-to-one! That means that if each new registered Republican in Florida voted (although it is highly unlikely to get 100% of new registered voters to vote), then all the Dems had to do was to get 11% of new registered voters to vote to match the Republicans.

(Tangent: It is the ground game, baby, and underlying this is a profound love for Obama. Ideas and Obama. You have to see it to believe it. The people in the Nevada State Democratic Party Office were not working until 11 p.m. each night for a candidate that only somewhat inspired them, like many conservatives felt about Romney, the volunteers and staff at the Nevada State Democratic Headquarters were full on stoked about BO. There were actually many people who flew in from around the country, taking time off from work, to help with the campaign, 'cuz they felt that they couldn't just sit there and do nothing!

Anyway, we partied late at the Mandalay but not as late as is typical for Sin City because it had been a long day. Many of us had only slept a few hours over the course of several days. But we were happy with a halo that came from the very core. Tangent's end, if there is such a thing, lol That mean's that's a joke and I think it's funny but I have to highlight it or else no one else will notice it! End of tangent, get it? Never mind, a friend and I are still debating what is meant by "end" in this case.)

So keeping up with all these stats, I looked up the odds on the election, because as any good statistician knows, odds on betting are usually at least as accurate as polls taken by Gallup, Rasmussesn, ABC, CNN, internal polls by the Romney party (see 538 blog for discussion of Romney's Exceedingly Inaccurate Internal Polls "When Internal Polls Mislead, a Whole Campaign May Be to Blame") because people put their money where their mouths are! The overseas gambling websites were offering 8-to-1 if Obama won 310-329 electoral votes, which was what I thought he would win (I was sure BO would win all of the Swing States, plus or minus one, again lol!) I was so confident, I was willing to bet money that I did not have!

I kept trying to place a bet on all the sites that OddsChecker sent me to and only a few sites had bets for predicting electoral votes. Hey, it's one thing t o bet on whether Ohio goes Republican or Democrat, or bet on the number of Swing States each candidate wins, it's another thing to think you know enough about each Swing State to predict what the electoral vote will be! The only site I found that gave odds on electoral votes was LadBrokes and they didn't take bets from Americans. Why not? I wondered, and looked everywhere for sites that took bets on the election. Oh, it occurred to me, probably not allowed in the U.S. because it would lead to some real perversion of the system. That dream lasted all of 43 minutes.

So, in order to keep me from talking Election Day In and Night Out, another one of my friends said, "All right already, I'll give you 8 to 1 odds if you will just be quiet about the election from now until then!" He meant Election Day and I said that I did not think that I could go that long. Could I at least talk about the election for two hours a day while my bet was on? Okay, he said, so I planned, I planned to bet but never had any money to bet, because if you read my previous post, I was hard up scrounging up $5 to donate to Obama's campaign, which I eventually was able to save up, ;-)

My friend asked me: So how much are you planning to put down?
I said: If I had the money, $500.
I'm going to keep it if you lose, he said. Tired of all this nonstop jibber jabber. When have you ever been so interested in elections?
I said: I've been since Gore v. Bush when the Supreme Court Justices who always championed states rights, took over the state just so they could rule for Bush!

So, by the time I had $5 to donate to Obama's fund, I had to head off to Las Vegas to help with the grassroots campaign and Election Day came and went, and it wasn't until two days after the election that I had enough to gamble. When my friend saw the electoral results, he said, "Whew! Thank goodness you were to poor to gamble. I would have been in to you for thousands!"

Now, this is coming from a girl who never gambles when in Las Vegas. I hit all the buffets and spend my tie chowing down on food until I have a belly ache, then pop out the Mylanta, and chow down some more!

However, once, I did gamble slots at a nickel machine when they still used real coins that made that semi-magical, entirely-cheap clanking noise and won 72 nickels! That's from betting only 1 nickel! Or maybe I won 144 nickels, somewhere between $3.60 - $7.20. I immediately stopped, did not make one more bet, because I KNOW WHEN TO STOP, collected my Handful of Nickels, and waited for a friend to come by because they were So Heavy I couldn't walk anywhere without them without being stared at and was afraid that someone would hit me over the head for my loot.

Thus it was ironic that the ONLY time I've ever wanted to bet, it wasn't to be, but at least I know in my heart that if I COULD HAVE bet, I would have been on the bullseye because when you've got something to believe in, you simply cannot lose!

4 More Years!
Cuatro Mas Anos!
Quatre Something Ans?


Check out the Inaugural Poem I wrote for President Obama! With Cliff Notes and Cheat Sheets, i.e., Background and Explanatory Notes, the Meaning behind the Rhyme!

A poem I wrote sort of for Mitt: "A Tale of Two Romneys by Ssal Nogard."

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MY OTHER WRITINGS


What I Said When I saw Salvador Dali's Metamorphosis of Narcissus

PrincessBoo Wakes Up on the Wrong Side of the Bed

The Sectarian: Luzy-Ann Disapproves of What Lake is Wearing on Her Date

LUZY-ANN SNEAKS TO THE PROTEST WITH THE KLAN ANYWAY

EXT. ELDERBERRY PARK    DAY

A car screeches into the park's parking lot, located at the edge of the park.  Brent jumps out of the car.  Violet and Lake are in the car.

FATHER

Stay there!

LAKE (V.O.)

But my mother followed him, leaving me in the car. 

Violet runs out of the car.

VIOLET

Stay in the car, Lake!

(slams car door)

LAKE (V.O.)

I too, followed at a distance. 

Lake is rushing towards the protest, fearful.

LAKE (V.O.)

(continuing)

All I could see were their tiny figures.  It was hard to make out what was happening.

Brent is following the protesters, frantically searching for Luzy-Ann.

BRENT

(calling frantically)

Luz!  Luz!

Brent pushes through the crowd.  Violet is not far behind Brent.

VIOLET

(calling desperately)

Luzy!  Brent!

Brent sees Luzy-Ann and catches up with her.  He grabs her arm.

BRENT

Luz, get out of here, and don't argue!

LUZY-ANN

(surprised, scared)

Dad!  You're embarrassing me!  Besides, I don't want to get out of here.  I'm championing Christ and the unborn! 

BRENT

(shaking Luzy-Ann by the arm)

You're picketing with skinheads, people haters, people who hate you! 

(pulling at her arm)

The same skinhead that Luzy-Ann met at the county/city office is walking behind Luzy-Ann.

SKINHEAD

Hey, fella!  Stop harassing the lady.  This is a peaceful march.  Is he bugging you, lady?

LUZY-ANN

It's all right, he's just my Father.

BRENT

We're leaving, now (emphasis).

LUZY-ANN

Dad, no!

SKINHEAD

If the lady wants to be here, she has every right to be.

BRENT

I'm her father.  She's underage.  She's where I tell her to be.

Grumbling begins.  People watching the demonstration begin to jeer and get louder.  Scuffling and pushing begins. 

LAKE (V.O.)

As with all demonstrations that have the potential for violence, whose protesters promise peace, there is always one person who benefits from inciting the violence.  They enjoy someone getting hurt, so long as it is not themselves. 

The crowd becomes erratic.  The police try to keep the protesters and observers in order but the situation becomes uncontrollable.  People get knocked over and scream.  Rioting ensues.

EXT. BURIAL GROUND   DAY

Many mourners say goodbye to Violet as her coffin is being lowered into the ground.  Brent is heartbroken.  Luzy-Ann is dazed. 

LAKE (V.O.)

Father did not last long after.  They were flower children to the core, like two buds on the same stem, Siamese, joined at the heart.

Lake stands alone at her father's grave.  He is buried beside Violet.

INT. BEDROOM   EVENING

Luzy-Ann is feverish in bed.  She is tossing and mumbling incoherently.  Aunt Tatem is wringing wet towels into a bowel and placing them on her head.

LAKE (V.O.)

(continuing)

That winter, my sister grew deathly ill.  It was as if she knew that her only protectors in the world were gone and she was alone to defend herself against the bigotry of an overwhelming town.  In youth, the town was the world.

INT. LIVING ROOM   DAY

LAKE (V.O.)

When Luz got better, she seemed to forget everything.  Completely.

Lake has just come home from a protest against the oil companies that want to drill in Alaska.

Luzy-Ann comes into the living room. 

LUZY-ANN

Promise you won't do it again?

LAKE

No.

LUZY-ANN

It's unpatriotic protesting against your government.

LAKE

What I did wasn't unpatriotic.

She goes to the kitchen to get some food.  Luzy-Ann follows her.

INT. KITCHEN   DAY

LUZY-ANN

You can't show that you're against the government.

LAKE

Newsflash, Luzee, this is a democracy. Or do you not remember your own protests?

LUZY-ANN

(getting a drink from the refrigerator)

I remember, only there are some things one cannot protest.

LAKE

Like the things you don't believe in?

(looks for something in the fridge to eat)

Do you know the true hallmark of a hypocrite?  Their ability to rationalize everything.  Because that's the only way they can continue to believe in their moral integrity.  Otherwise, they'd see themselves as a hypocrite, and then they wouldn't be as big a hypocrite as they were when they actually believed in themselves.

LUZY-ANN

Do you know what's your problem?  You don't care!

LAKE

I care enough to leave people alone when it matters.  You don't need to protest everything.

LUZY-ANN

You don't care enough to fight for what you believe in.

LAKE

I care enough not to fight for things that I don't need people to believe in. 

AUNT TATEM DIES

INT. BEDROOM   EVENING

Aunt Tatem is lying in bed.  She is very ill.  Luzy-Ann is by her side. 

LAKE (V.O.)

My Aunt died shortly after my parents.  Her final admonition to my sister was to look after me.  Given everything, I really wished my sister did not take so much to heart what my Aunt advised. 

AUNT TATEM

When I'm gone, mind you take care of your sister.  Her faith will be shaken more than once, I fear.  She's a skeptic. 

LAKE (V.O.)

And she rolled the word out in such malignant tones of fear that my sister's heart quaked for what might befall my soul lest I waver.  And waver I did.  More than once.

GETTING DRESSED FOR A DATE

INT. BATHROOM   EVENING

Lake is getting ready for a date.  She is combing her hair in front of the mirror.  Luzy-Ann is standing in the doorway, commenting and busybodying about Lake's dress.

LUZY-ANN

Are you sure you want to wear such a short skirt?  Isn't this your first date?

LAKE

It's closer to the knee than the crotch.

LUZY-ANN

Who's this you're going out with anyway?  I haven't seen him at church.

LAKE

He goes to First Presbyterian church.  I accept all god's peoples.

LUZY-ANN

There's something to be said for not being too accepting, Lake. 

Luzy-Ann reaches on the counter for Lake's lip gloss. 

LUZY-ANN

What shade is this?  You should try something subtler for a while until you get to know the boy. 

As Luzy-Ann leans over, she sees something in the waste basket. 

LUZY-ANN

What is this?  (leans over) 

She reaches in and pulls something out.  Her eyes widen in disbelief.  She slowly holds up a tampon wrapper.

LAKE

An applicator. 

(incredulous)

Do you really not know?

LUZY-ANN

(trembling)

What did you do?

LAKE

(defensively)

What do you mean?

LUZY-ANN

What did you do with it?

LAKE

(tauntingly)

I plugged myself with it.

LUZY-ANN

(disbelief)

You what?

LAKE

I plugged myself with a tampon. 

LUZY-ANN

You--how--

LAKE

(matter-of-factly)

I've got my monthlies, and I'm wearing a thong.

LUZY-ANN

You're wearing a what?

LAKE

A thong.

LUZY-ANN

You know I don't approve of your wearing them things.

LAKE

Why not, because they shimmee up your butt and lord forbid you recognize the existence of your ass, much less your asshole.  And that would lead to acknowledging homosexuals and their "peculiar" sex habits, now wouldn't it?

LUZY-ANN

Who taught you this?

LAKE

Taught me what?

LUZY-ANN

How to use a tampon?

LAKE

You need teaching?  They practically show you in the commercials.  All the girls use them.

LUZY-ANN

All the girls aren't going to heaven.

LUZY-ANN

If you didn't use a thong, you wouldn't need to wear a tampon.  They go hand in hand.  And are the devil's handiwork. 

LAKE

(resignedly)

Panty lines.  Can't show them. 

LUZY-ANN

If you wouldn't go hog wild on the chocolate and pizza.

LAKE

Are you afraid I'm going to lose my virginity by using a tampon?

LUZY-ANN

Well, it's something to think about, isn't it?

LAKE

                                    You are--perverted.

LUZY-ANN

I just don't want you letting any men use you, that's all.

LAKE

Men, or a tampon?  Besides, with you around, who dares?  I have to go around begging them to "use me, ple-ease use me."

LUZY-ANN

(dead serious)

Take it out.

LAKE

I'm gone. 

(walks to the front door)

Luzy-Ann follows Lake.

LUZY-ANN

(desperate)

Sis, take it out, please--

(close to tears)

You're desecrating your temple.  You don't know what you're doing to yourself, leaving something like that in you!

(points commandingly)

I want you to take that out, now.

LAKE

I'm late.

(disbelief and not knowing whether to be outraged or laugh) 

Tell me, Luzy-Ann, do you ever accidentally touch yourself when you're wiping yourself after you pee, or is that why the toilet paper roll runs out so fast? 

LUZY-ANN

I did not deserve that!  You apologize right now!

LAKE

I'm sorry, sister dear, what I meant to say was: do you ever touch yourself when you're bathing, or is that what the back scratcher is for?

LUZY-ANN

You cannot put something like that in you.

LAKE

I thought I just did.  At lease it felt (emphasis) like it.

LUZY-ANN

It's reserved for holier things and you are permanently desecrating your temple.

LAKE

(daringly)

You take it out, then.

Luzy-Ann walks determinedly to Lake, who is standing close to the front door.

LAKE

Oh. My God. 

Lake makes a move to run.  Luzy-Ann grabs her and they fall to the ground.

LUZY-ANN

Unh!  This is for your own good.

They tussle on the ground while Luzy-Ann tries to pull down her sister's panties.  Unexpectedly, Lake's date comes to the open door. 

DATE

Wow.  Girl on girl action.  Sisters too.  Can I call the guys to watch?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

MY OTHER WRITINGS:

What I Said When I saw Salvador Dali's Metamorphosis of Narcissus

The Sectarian: Luzy-Ann Protests With the Klan

PROTEST WITH THE KLAN

INT. CITY HALL   DAY

Luzy-Ann is standing in line to apply for a license to protest in Elderberry Park.  She is president of the Pro-Life chapter in town. 

LAKE (V.O.)

Because of my sister's lack of attention from the opposite sex, they were inscrutable to her, and the more she did not understand them, the more she pretended to.

A white supremacist stands in line after Luzy-Ann.

SKINHEAD

(gruff, scratchy voice)

Hey there, little lady. 

LUZY-ANN

(turns around)

Uh, huh, hi.

SKINHEAD

I noticed you petitioning to hold a protest for the killers of the unborn at the park.

LUZY-ANN

(perks up)

Exactly.  We must protect God's most defenseless children.

SKINHEAD

Well, you know, the Kla-, I mean, the Nation of the White Man's Independence is petitioning for the same day as you. 

LUZY-ANN

Oh, well, may the best man, or woman, or unborn child win, ha, ha.

SKINHEAD

(smiling flirtatiously)

You know, maybe it doesn't have to get to that at all.  You know, there's plenty of space in the public park. Maybe we can share.

Luzy-Ann, who is not accustomed to so much attention from a man, smiles uncertainly.

LUZY-ANN

(unsure)

I don't know.

SKINHEAD

Come-on.  It'll be fun.  Both of our people fighting for the same cause.

LUZY-ANN

The same cause?

SKINHEAD

Sure.

ARE YOU CRAZY, LUZY-ANN?

INT. CAFETERIA   NOON

Luzy-Ann is buying lunch with her friend, Mary-Ann.  She is trying to tell her fellow abortion protester her plans to hold the protest in conjunction with the white supremacists.  Mary-Ann is counting her change and not paying attention. 

MARY-ANN

(gleefully)

Ooh, he gave me ten dollars too much!

LUZY-ANN

(righteously)

You shouldn't look so gleeful.  Aren't you going back?

MARY-ANN

No, it's paying for your lunch, tomorrow.  Remember the time when you ordered out and when you got home you realized they gave you seventy-five cents too much?  Did you go back?

LUZY-ANN

Of course not.  The place was over five miles away and not worth my time.  Besides, it wasn't my fault.

MARY-ANN

What's your threshold level then, to make it worth you while?

LUZY-ANN

(indignant)

Would you listen?  The protest is day after tomorrow and we haven't even half organized. 

They walk to a table while Luzy-Ann continues to explain to Mary-Ann the joint protest of the anti-abortioners and the Klan. 

MARY-ANN

(exclaims)

Luzy-Ann, are you pea-picking nuts?  They're the Klan. 

People look up from their lunch and try to listen in.

LUZY-ANN

(lowering voice)

The Klan doesn't exist anymore Mary-Ann.  They're not really as bad as people cook them up to be.

Mary-Ann groans.

LUZY-ANN

(continuing)

After all.  They're a lot like you and me.

MARY-ANN

(shaking head woefully)

Oh, no.

LUZY-ANN

All they want is the freedom to assemble peaceably, with people of their own choosing.  So what that they prefer their own kind?  If you saw blacks hanging out with only themselves, as indeed you do see in the ghetto, no one would cry segregation now, would they?  And that's exactly what we would prefer, wouldn't we Mary-Ann?  Wouldn't you rather pray with a good Catholic than a Baptist?

MARY-ANN

(trying to control her emotions)

Listen to me, Luzy-Ann.  No one's gonna' come.  I'm not going to come.  I wouldn't be caught dead.  My parent's would kill me!  Luzee...it's dangerous!

Lake walks by and overhears.

LAKE

(curiously)

What's dangerous?

MARY-ANN

Luzy-Ann agreed to hold our abortion protest with the Klan.

LAKE

(almost shouting)

Are you crazy?  Mom and Dad are going to kill you when they find out!

LUZY-ANN

Who's going to tell them?

LAKE

I am!  To stop you from hurting yourself and anyone who might be foolish enough to join you.  Luz, you, you ...Ugh!...

walks away.

LUZY-ANN

(calling after Lake)

Why are you blaming slavery on me?  I'm not even white!  You put my kind in labor camps just so you could build your choo-choos!

YOU'RE GROUNDED

INT. KITCHEN   EVENING

The table is set for dinner.  Luzy-Ann is trying to get Lake to keep her mouth shut about the protest. 

LUZY-ANN

(almost whisper)

You'd better not tell.

LAKE

(louder whisper)

Why not? 

LUZY-ANN

Because I'll tell them about how you snuck out of Sunday school to meet Johnny-Lee. 

LAKE

Go right ahead.  They know anyway.  We ran into Mom bringing the plates for the church potluck while we were sneaking out.  She told us to have a good time.

LUZY-ANN

(warning tone)

Lake...

LAKE

You'll thank me for this someday.

The family sits down to dinner in the kitchen.  Aunt Tatem hobbles in slowly. 

LUZY-ANN

Mother, there's going to be an abortion protest this Saturday at the park.

VIOLET

(raising her utensils)

Remember to be careful.

LUZY-ANN

Oh, I will.  Seeing as it's going to be real crowded.

VIOLET

Oh, were you able to round up more friends this time?

LUZY-ANN

Well, in a manner of speaking, Mama.

LAKE

(blurts out)

She's marching with the Klan!

VIOLET

What! Luz!

LUZY-ANN

Well, they were petitioning for the same time as we were, and instead of risking not being able to protest...I'd thought you'd like the compromise.  You're always saying we can't have everything perfect.

VIOLET

(still holding her knife and fork frozen)

This is not a slight imperfection.  This is dreadful.

LAKE

Disastrous, I'd say.

Luzy-Ann glares at Lake.

LAKE

(uncowed)

Tell them your brilliant rationalization of how it's okay to march with the Klan.

BRENT

(decisively)

I don't want to hear it.  You're not going.  You might as well call it off.  If any of your friends have even half as much sense as you as you seem to lack, they won't show.  Not after I call their parents.

LUZY-ANN

Yes, they will. 

LAKE

No, they won't.  Mary-Ann's not coming.

LUZY-ANN

Would you shut up, you little

(pause trying to find the right word)

snit!  Why are you always trying to sabotage my plans?  Why don't you support me in anything, any of you? 

(looking around the table)

VIOLET

(trying to calm Luzy-Ann)

We support you honey, but not in doing something you'll regret for the rest of your life, that's dangerous besides. 

LUZY-ANN

What makes you jump to conclusions that they'll automatically start burning crosses again?  They're not the Klan.  They just want to assemble peaceably with their own kind.

LAKE

Of all people, Luzy, I think you'd be most offended by them.

LUZY-ANN

I'm not.  They're nice.  And, and (emphasis) they like me.

All of them look at Luzy-Ann with fear and terror, except Aunt Tatem.

AUNT TATEM

Why not let her go? You always preach tolerance.

VIOLET

They're not about tolerance.  Anything but tolerance. 

BRENT

You're not going Luz.  You'll stay in your room where we can watch you Saturday. 

LUZY-ANN

But what'll the others say when I'm not there! 

VIOLET

There won't be any others.  We're calling their parents.

LUZY-ANN

You can't!  How dare you!  I'm not a child.  You can't just bulldoze me into my room whenever you want.  I'm a person.  I'm an adult.

BRENT

You're sixteen and you don't know what this world is like.

LUZY-ANN

Don't know?  Don’t know?  People stare at me on a daily basis.  At least twice in the morning and four times at night.  I can't go anywhere without being reminded of who I am, or rather, what I'm not!  These people.  They accept me.  They asked me to join them.  No one else does, except when they need a token non-white!  Why won't you let me make some real friends for once!

Luzy-Ann runs into her room and slams the door.

LAKE

Maybe you should start locking her up now. 

LUZY-ANN SNEAKS TO THE PROTEST WITH THE KLAN ANYWAY

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~

MY OTHER WRITINGS

If you Like Salvador Dali