E-mail me baby

I’m trying to remember, how long it’s been.

I added an e-mail address to my business cards early on. And I added the familiar rejoinder, “e-mail me,” or “e-mail me, baby” about the same time. It’s developed into a familiar patter:

“E-mail me, send me your Date of Birth, Time of Birth and Place of Birth, all over again, along with your First Name and Last Name, remind that I did a reading for you, and I’ll send you a follow-up to this reading, a quick planet analysis where I let the computer cover all the boring parts I’ve forgotten.”

(Subtext: because they are the boring parts, mostly.)

In Dallas, slow show, I don’t think I repeated that more than a dozen times or so. The previous week, though, and judging from the mail bag, I said those same lines, or a close approximation thereof, almost a hundred times in two days.

That’s boring. It’s no wonder I rush it all together, make it sound like a single line. Why I prefer to make sure it is recorded when I do it, too.

Images:
Lowrider, first in a triptych.

Pastoral Care I:
(Oh Lord please forgive me)

“This place is Baptist?” Sister asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I, I didn’t know.” She was visibly shaken. Can’t say she’s had the best of luck at the hands of the Christian ministry. But neither of us burst into flame or were struck down by lightening. At least, not yet.

“Are they holy rollers?” Sister again.

“Nope, covered dish, I think.”

“?” (It’s perfectly valid Gemini expression from a sister such as mine.)

“Methodist is cookies, often store bought these days. Lutheran is sheet cake – maybe with a message. What I recall. Episcopalian was ice cream, store bought, some was hand-cranked. Yeah, I think Baptist is “the ‘no dancing’ and covered dish sect.”