March 22: Dance Day, Classic Saint Marty, New Cartoon

My daughter's dance competition is this evening.  It will be an interesting night.  Her dance teacher couldn't come; she's in the hospital with kidney stones.  So, my wife and I are it.  My wife is going to be backstage with my daughter.  I'm going to be out in the audience, cheering her on and making fun of everybody else.

My daughter has been holding it together pretty well.  I would be just one step away from panic if I were her.  However, she's just watching TV, eating Pringles, and not panicking.  I hope she stays this calm when we get to the auditorium tonight.  I've seen her solo.  She knows it.  She just needs to have confidence in herself.

And I need to take a Xanax.

Today's episode of Classic Saint Marty first aired two years ago.  A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

March 22, 2013:  Ackley, Need a Friend, P.O.E.T.S. Day Friend

All of a sudden, Ackley barged in again through the damn shower curtains, as usual.  For once in my stupid life, I was really glad to see him.  He took my mind off the other stuff.

Holden has love/hate relationships with a lot of people.  His roommate Stradlater, who goes on a date with Jane.  His mother and father, who can't seem to see how Holden is struggling after his younger brother's death.  His brother D.B., who sells out to Hollywood.  And Ackley, the guy who keeps barging into his dorm room uninvited.

I think most relationships are like this.  Love.  Hate.  Sometimes, you want to spend the whole day with a person, from breakfast to lunch to dinner to sauna where you whip each other's asses with birch branches.  Okay, maybe not the sauna thing.  Other times, the way that person chews a banana can make you want to commit ritual seppuku.  It's the normal ebb and flow of interpersonal interaction.  (I learned that in therapy.)

This morning, as I was driving into work, I passed a bank with a flashing sign.  It flashed the time and temperature and date.  It flashed "Happy Saint Patrick's Day," even though Saint Patrick's Day was last weekend.  Then it flashed this message:  "Need a friend?"  Now, I know that it was some kind of sales gimmick to generate business for the friends at Scru-U Savings and Loan.  Need a friend?  Come in and talk to our loan officer.  She'll give you enough money to buy the entire cast of Glee as friends.  However, that simple question made me reflect on the people who make me feel good about myself.

Last night, I gave a poetry reading.  There were three people in the audience.  Two good friends and my wife (who is my best friend).  I had two other friends playing music and singing, as well.  I was surrounded by love, and it was great.  For an hour, I read poems, told stories, and listened to some really great songs that I got to pick out.

My phone rang about an hour after I got home from the reading.  It was my friend, Linda, who sang and played guitar during the reading.  "I just want to thank you," she said.  "I want to let you know how good that was."  I said something about how her music really made the difference.  "Oh, no," she said.  "You really are great.  Thank you for letting me be a part of that."

That's what friends are for.  Even though the number of people in the audience wouldn't even make up a bowling team, Linda made me feel like I'd just delivered my Nobel Prize lecture.  I was blessed and grateful.

Need a friend?  This P.O.E.T.S. Day, Saint Marty knows he has the best friends in the world.

You've got a friend in me

Confessions of Saint Marty