apiary

Today, I'd like to tell you about Steve, the town transvestite.

Sometimes I'll be driving down the road and I'll pass a tall, skinny bicyclist with long, grayish, scraggly hair, giant yellow rain boots, a puffy jacket with a bare chest beneath, and some form of pant/shorts combo on his lower half. This is Steve and I suppose these clothes are his winter-wear as Drew told me all about Steve's summer attire which is a skimpy sun dress that barely covers his hairy thighs. Legend has it that Steve came to town a few decades ago on a basketball scholarship to play for the "JuCo"(no one says Junior College). He was an amazing basketball player and people loved coming from miles away to watch Steve play. Most people thought he was gunna go pro. Then, "the drugs" got him. He just wasn't the same after  "the drugs." People get this real sad look on their face when they talk about "the drugs" getting Steve. Now, he just rides his bike around town with his plastic shopping bags full of unidentifiable crumpled up clothes swinging back and forth on the handle bars. On the occasion that I'm driving past Steve, going the opposite direction as he, sometimes our eye balls will catch and I'm locked in his stare for a second or two until I step on the gas. Its kind of creepy the way even though he's riding his bike, he can lock eyes with me instantly, knowing exactly where my eye sockets are, bringing his own to meet mine, and never waver. He can even find my eyes behind my dark sunglasses and I'm even more amazed. I guess he is used to people staring at him.

Steve has a friend (or so I like to imagine) but I don't know his name. The friend wears a black leather jacket and matching pants. Big headphones with an antenna that go over a black hat decorate the friend's head. Roller skates adorn his feet. Never, have I ever, seen this friend without his headphones and roller skates. When Drew and I go to Fraese (think Add Drug) for lunch, the friend is always there.... headphones and roller skates on, sipping coffee at the counter staring off into space. I want to ask him what he listens to all day on that portable radio in his headphones. Maybe he doesn't actually have any ears and this is his cover-up so people don't notice. Why the roller skates? I suppose it is a rather efficient way to get around... using your own body power, not having to worry about gas for a car or having your bike stolen. Don't have to worry about your skates running off on someone else's feet if you never take them off. In some weird way, it makes my day a hair better to see Steve and his friend cruising around town.

Start work tomorrow! Send good thoughts. Soon they'll realize that I was lying when I said if felt comfortable using Microsoft Excel. Oops.

Also, I have decided that I want to be a bee keeper. I just read the Secret Life of Bees and, man, I loved it. Been a long time since I have read something that moved me like that book did. I loved the feminist undertones, the emphasis on family, blood related or not, and just the beautiful way Sue Monk Kidd portrayed the landscape of the pink house in rural South Carolina and the characters Lily, Rosaleen, August, June, May, Zach, Neil, and T. Ray. I want to know the Black Madonna and paint her with healing honey like the Daughters of Mary did. I want to celebrate Mary Day August 15th. I want the story to go on and on forever, keeping me safe in the cozy nook of feminine protection. It took me about 24 hours to finish the book and honestly, I miss it! I wasn't ready to say goodbye to them yet. It also made me deeply miss having a front porch. I miss Chase Street, siting out with y'all late into the night loving and laughing on that pretty purple porch. Watching the rain fall off the eaves in shiny ribbons, sunsets setting over the big trees across the street catching the sky on fire, the occasional early morning sunrise, taking late night dance parties out there and waking up the Blue-bers. I know we can't go back, but I need a similar porch. It needs to be summer and I need to feel the sweet, sticky, humid heat of a late Georgia night with fireworks of lightning illuminating the sky every now and then as we ride our bikes through the sleepy streets home from downtown. Home will always be South for me. I need the weight and moisture of a humid day to keep me alive, refreshed, and remind me who I am.