I got yet another email remarking on how amazing my friends are. This one from an old friend whose emails have been a new light in my life the past few days. It gave me an idea to profile different members of the Driving Miss Craisy group since they are such amazing women. We begin with Kathy because she was very silly yesterday and made me laugh til I pulled a muscle.
Let me try to explain Kathy S. if I can. Remember how the soldiers in the Nam were cautioned that “Charlie” was everywhere and to be afraid of the harmless old lady, the sweet little kid? Kathy has that level of stealth. She appears to be a normal suburban mom. She has two beautiful, polite and good natured children, a charming and handsome businessman husband who chuckles benevolently at my offensive jokes, a gorgeous and immaculate home and a hybrid SUV. Her hair is perfectly in place and tastefully styled, she’s slender, beautiful and well-dressed – achieving that balance of youthful but not trying too hard to be youthful. She plays bunko.
Don’t be fooled.
Kathy is in reality an irreverent, wickedly funny weirdo. This is a woman who (along with her henchwoman who I’ll write about another day) bought me an inflatable redheaded doll to give to my then-husband so as to free up my time. ( the doll ended up usurping me in the holiday greeting card the following year…we clothed her don’t worry) Kathy is forever plotting little practical jokes all of which amuse me to no end but yesterday’s was delicious.
Kathy had driven Mac and me to our rehearsal 2 days ago where she had witnessed me stopping Mac from putting graffiti on a sign. Now Mac and I were the ones who thought of crucifying a giant easter bunny on the huge illuminated cross that sits on public land near our home ( a protest bunny – like whatever happened to separation of church and state? ) I have no problem with public protest but somehow I am jarred by graffiti. Kathy suggested post-it notes, which made us laugh out loud at its sheer lameness as an act of civil disobedience. The post-it vandal.
Well the next day, she shows up with a bag of large, extra-sticky post its, a thick black marker and a mask…made from a giant post-it with two eyeholes cut out. Mac donned the mask, rolled on the ground a few times to his target looked stealthily in both directions and placed his protest post-it on the offending sign while we cracked up. The post-it vandal concept is actually quite ingenious. All over campus I saw silly post-it messages signed “the post-it vandal.” Add that to the life-worth-living list.
I love the way Kathy’s eyes twinkle when she or someone else has made a wicked joke or practical joke. Her whole face is illuminated. I love the way she swoops in and puts her arm into the arm of a homeless man and gently, lovingly guides him from a club where he’s unwittingly become the center of a mounting scene. I love how she takes a project on ( now mac and me) like a mission and how indefatigable she is to that end. Or the way she devours a book. Or plans a public pillow fight. Or clips articles about brutal dictators for my son instead of being horrified that he’s interested in them.
We are none of us what we seem. We are an astonishing and often irritating mix of contradictions, surprises and revelations that take one’s breath away.
I want to put a post-it somewhere – maybe the pedestrian overpass by University Ave, maybe the boys bathroom at Bentley, maybe outside a Bunko game she’s attending that says I >heart< Kathy! Signed, the Post-it Vandal.
Stay tuned for more Dmc profiles in the future.