PS

PS. A fall sports update:

The Cats lost this weekend but the Pats and Sox both won. So with all due respect to Kentucky, I’m calling it a successful sports weekend.

Mrs. B comes to visit.

Dear New England,

Thank you! My dear Mrs. B came to visit last weekend from Vermont and brought that New England charm with her. Friday night, she got off the plane (around 9:30), stepped out of the airport and said, “why is is 75 degrees and muggy?”. “Welcome to Kentucky,” was my reply.

Saturday it was hot and rained and when it wasn’t raining, it was muggy.

But then Sunday something wonderful happened.  The rain moved through over night, the sun was shining and there was a crispness to the morning air. A perfect day to go the farmers market and just wander around enjoying the weather.

The past week has been really beautiful. I think it is still a little too warm for it to really be fall weather but it is cooling off at night and it is crisp in the mornings. In the sun, it feels downright summery but when a cool breeze comes, you can feel that fall is here. This weekend, pumpkins and apples were suddenly in abundance at the farmers market and next weekend, Adam and I are going apple picking at Evans Orchard.

So, thank you New England, for sending fall to Kentucky. I shall celebrate it in your honor.

Inkbeth

Fall

Dear New England,

Please send Fall to California. I could use a blustery, slightly chilly, crisp aired kind of day.

Best,

Bethroe

Psychic Reader

Dear New England,

Something the Bay Area does well is burritos. I love you, New England, but your burritos don’t measure up. We’re cool, though, right?

So, yes, the Bay Area makes a nice burrito. Unfortunately, there are two other things the Bay Area does well: traffic and crazies.

For example, today after work Phil and I were stuck in traffic for five million hours. And we were hungry.

But, luckily, we had a solution (New Englanders are a resourceful bunch). Every day, twice a day, we pass a burrito place during our commute. Perfect. Since the traffic wasn’t breaking, we pulled over next to one of the obscenely huge Berkeley houses with microscopic yards and crossed the street to this taco shop. We ate burritos. They were OK. Only, why did mine have carrots in it? Not the best example for my first statement in this letter, but you know how it is, New England. Not every lobster is a Maine lobster. Not every lemon is a Mr Lemon.

Finally unhungry, we decided to get back in the car and face the ridiculous traffic. Upon exiting I noticed a free magazine. It was called Psychic Reader and was brought to me by the fine folks at the Berkeley Psychic Institute. Of course I took it.

Turns out, it doesn’t matter what the religion is for people to be crazy religious nuts. Take a look at this article about 2012. Oh, and this one and this one. The articles were a great relief to me, because now I know none of us have to help solve climate change or violence or anything, because we will all be part of the peace-loving new world order after 2012 that will just happen because it just will. Oh, I hope I didn’t ruin that for you. I’m going out to buy a gun and an SUV and maybe some crystals.

Ultimately, though, I had two favorite pieces. First, there was “How to Stop Absorbing Negative Emotions.” I didn’t know I might be taking on the depression of others just by sitting in the movie theater! Once again, it’s a relief I don’t have to do anything about it. Well, I have to imagine a white shield around me, but that’s not too much work. Thank God I don’t need therapy or to face all the emotions I am experiencing. If they aren’t mine, I can’t be held responsible.

Then, there’s “Ask Christy.” Christy answers your emails to tell you what happened in your past and what you should do about it. And she tells you at what color your karma vibrates. She does this all without the limitations of modern grammar and punctuation rules. How enlightened. Here’s an example (and please just assume you see (sic) everywhere – there’s too much for me to write it every time).

You were a spiritually sensitive child, and psychically I see you were aware of, and affected by this man’s negative spirit guide this man had. around him This being has very dark energy, and has sat in your aura ever since.

I am impressed by Christy’s ability to see into someone’s past at all, never mind through email. I only hope my negative spirit guide that I have. around me doesn’t make her put up her white shield. I think my karma vibrates at bullshit.

But don’t worry if you missed the September/October issue of Psychic Reader. It’s been publishing for 35 years and will likely outlive The New York Times. All it really has to do is make it to 2012.

Love and psychic vibrations,

Bethroe

The Man on The Street

Dear New England,

When I left NE I knew objectively that people would be what the outsiders call “friendly.” As far as I can tell, this means that others want to speak to me on the bus, in line at the market, and (worst of all) on the street.

Because it isn’t a lie, New England. People in the SF Bay area want to talk to me. Even though they don’t know me. Even though I don’t give a shit. It’s weird. It kind of makes me feel powerful, like I can validate them. Of course, I choose not to.

Now, New Englanders are considered rude for not saying “hi” on the street. But, I don’t think I’m rude. I just think other people are boring, smelly, and uninteresting. Repeated thoughts about bowel movements in my head would be more interesting than what these people have to say.

For example, when I first moved to San Francisco, UPS let me know that they had a package for me. Fine. I’ll take transit from the Tenderloin (TL) to the Mission to see what my (New England) people sent me.

For the New Englanders out there, the TL is kind of like living in Roxbury (but not as bad) and the Mission is kind of like if East Providence and Landsdowne Street got married, forcing the Spanish speakers to live next to the hipsters because the hipsters thought it was cool.

So I took a bus from the TL to the Mission to get my package. And on the way, a lady (who by the way was not a crazy drug addict, but what passes for normal in SF) told me about how the bus driver was “stressing her out” and how she used to be a smoker, and he was making her want a cigarette.

This lady’s name? No idea. Why she told me? Maybe my eff you button was broken. Either way, after ten minutes of unloading on me, she looked at my “something in here smells like farts” face, and said “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Welcome to San Francisco. So, in conclusion New England, stay quiet and in your own space, and I’ll see you  soon.

Best,

Bethroe

I’m not sure why I care, but…

Dear New England,

Tomorrow is the first home (football) game of the season here at UK. Just to be clear, football is a HUGE deal (not as huge as basketball, but far huger than any other experience I have with football). Also, it is UK versus University of Louisville which, if I understand correctly, makes it an even bigger deal. People are excited, there is tailgating and I saw RV’s parking in one of the campus lots. The street I live off of will actually change from being a two way street to a one way street for the day to handle the extra traffic heading to the stadium and later in the other direction for the folks heading home.

Now, football is not my sport of choice but I like to watch the Pats games and I have some (though not many) fond memories of high school football games.  So one one level, this hardly matters because I don’t really care about football but on the other hand, it feels all wrong. Football is something you do in the fall, when the air is crisp and you need to wear a sweater and sometimes mittens. It is way to warm to be playing football.

A few days in the past couple weeks have had a hint of fall in the air but it goes away quickly as the sun warms up the day. Mostly it still feels like summer. I look at the calender and see that it is Sept 18th. But I haven’t pulled out my sweaters or put away my flip flops, I haven’t started using my coffeemaker yet, it is still iced coffee every morning.

I’m ready for fall. Football doesn’t make it fall, but fall means it is time for football.

New England, I miss you and fall.

Sincerely, Inkbeth