Losing my religion

I had a Mormon salesman stop by today and solicit my wife for alarm service.

How amazing an act of commerce can dredge up so many feelings.

Previous to my move to the Midwest, I regarded Mormons fairly kindly. The only ones I had known were so wholesome, unfailingly polite, and fairly good-looking. Fast-forward to 2008...I get married October 13, 2008, in California to my talented, lovely, intelligent and beautiful wife. My former denomination (Catholicism) which taught me and my wife everything we know about monogamism and commitment have spent a fuck ton of money on making sure no other same-sex couples can do the same thing. So did the LDS.

So tonight I have been sitting around drinking a 5th of Evan Williams and looking at B52s videos and having a timequake. I think of my deceased mother's fascination with the South. The B-52s embody the age she would be now if she were still alive, and pull from the same timeframe of inspiration (the early to mid-60's). She killed herself at the age of 46, which was 1993. The other group I bridge the gap from the same time (1993) and place (Athens, GA) is REM, which had the hit "Losing My Religion" about the same time. I think I thought I saw you try. But that was just a dream.

And then I am 17, I am sitting in the Broad Ripple Branch of the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library reading Susie Bright's book talking about how "Connie lost her religion over that boy." Which my mother did. The song says so much. I am not buying an alarm system. I am questioning the theft of my weedwacker two days ago: Mormons are trying to sell me ADT-lite.

They, like the Catholics, do not understand they have said too much, not enough.

Just a dream.

Why do things seem so obvious and horrible to the depressed?