Sorry to my eager following (note sarcasm) for not posting for a while. As recompense, I offer a work in progress, which is based on a true story. It has been edited for content.

V.O.
I suppose it all started in a Starbucks.

Cut into a street at evening, facing a mildly busy Starbucks. Slowly zoom in on a table in the window, where a teenager with short hair and glasses sits opposite a man on the young side of middle-aged with a short-cropped beard and glasses.

V.O.
Paul wasn't exactly what I'd expected in a confirmation mentor. He's the sort of guy who still has a kind of gleeful, simple, happy childlike mentality underneath a veneer of maturity and insight. Or maybe vice versa. He also wanted me to memorize the Lord's Prayer in Tolkien Elvish, but thats another story.

By now we are right up to the glass. Pass through the glass and stop.

Teen (same voice as V.O.)
That's total crap.

Cut between the faces of the teen (Si) and the man (Paul).

Si
Jesus wasn't anywhere NEAR pure. At the wedding in Cana, he gets plastered with his buddies, then tells his mother "shut up" when she asks him to help the hosts.

Paul
Right. Christ was fully human, and had human vices.

Si
Right.

Paul
And The love of God...

Si
*sighs* Jeez I don't know how to put this... umm well I see the love of God through the simple joys in life. Y'know, like putting on clothes that are fresh out of the dryer.

Paul (chuckles, then glances at his watch)
Well, this is good progress. We'll talk more about this later, but I think you have to get going, right?

Si (also checking the time)
Yeah, choir starts soon.

They both get up, putting on their coats, and Paul picks up his shoulder bag. They walk out the door. Watch the door shut behind them. Cut to black. Cut into a basement hallway, where Si comes out of what looks like a renovated boiler room amidst a crowd of other teenagers and some adults, carrying a black folder under his arm. Paul is out in the hall, waiting for him.

Si
Hey, Paul. How's it goin'?

Paul
Good, thanks. I have a bit of an assignment for you.

He digs around in his bag, coming out with a small disposable camera. He hands it to Si, who looks down at it, then back at Paul, somewhat uncomprehendingly.

Paul
I want you to use this camera to take pictures of the love of God as you see it.

Si
Paul, You know me, right? I obsess over music, movies, writing. Not still photography.

Paul smiles knowingly, Si shrugs and stuffs the camera into a coat pocket.

Si
All right, whatever. I'm game.

Paul
Good. I have to go, I'll see you later.

Si
Ok, I'll work on this.

Paul (over his shoulder)
But don't work too hard on it!

Si (to himself)
Yeah, sure.

Having the flu really really stinks. I am finally (mostly) better, but for three days I was bedridden, and I kept remembering a lecture I once went to by Richard Preston, wherein he described, complete with slides, the degenerative effects of smallpox and the ebola virus. I felt kinda like that, minus the pox covering my face and the bleeding from the eyes. And now that I'm all better the rest of the family is being brought low.

Tunes: "It's Only Love", The Beatles (Thanks, Halley; it's on "Help!", btw); "Son of a Preacher Man", Dusty Springfield.

Yesterday afternoon, Susie, Heather, Heather's friend Gary and I piled into the car and headed off for Milwaukee. What, you may ask, drove us to go to Wisconsin, of all places? Simple answer. The Indigo Girls were playing there. We arrived way early, which turned out to be a good thing, because the only (relatively) reasonable restaurant didn't have terribly fast service, although the food was quite good. But the show. Ohmygoodness. I was totally blown away. The opening act was Kim Richey, whom I'd never heard before, but was very good, musically. But then Emily and Amy took the stage, and good became amazing. Soon after the set started and things were getting into full swing, Amy started having problems with her guitar cord, and, because she got preoccupied with the problem, forgot the words the third line into "Reunion", causing great amusement, and the rest of us were told to sing along to help her out as they started again. All went well, except perhaps that a few people a couple of rows ahead of us seemed to a little the better or the worse for the beer, and were thus a trifle on the overenthusiastic side. So all in all, it was an extremely good night.

Tunes: "Every River", Kim Richey; "Least Complicated", Indigo Girls.

She grew up in an Indiana town,
Had a good-lookin' mama who never was around.
But she grew up tall and she grew up right
With them Indiana boys on them Indiana nights.

Well, she moved down here at the age of eighteen.
She blew the boys away, was more than they'd seen.
I was introduced and we both started groovin'.
She said, "I dig you baby, but I got to keep movin' on.
Keep movin' on."

Last dance with Mary Jane, one more time to kill the pain.
I feel summer creepin' in and I'm tired of this town again.

Well, I don't know, but I've been told,
You never slow down, you never grow old.
I'm tired of screwin' up, tired of going down,
Tired of myself, tired of this town.

Oh, my, my. Oh, hell, yes.
Honey, put on that party dress.
Buy me a drink, sing me a song.
Take me as I come 'cause I can't stay long.

Last dance with Mary Jane, one more time to kill the pain.
I feel summer creepin' in and I'm tired of this town again.

There's pigeons down on Market Square.
She's standin' in her underwear,
Lookin' down from a hotel room.
Nightfall will be comin' soon.

Oh, my, my. Oh, hell, yes.
You got to put on that party dress.
It was too cold to cry when I woke up alone.
I hit my last number and walked to the road.

Last dance with Mary Jane, one more time to kill the pain.
I feel summer creepin' in and I'm tired of this town again.

"Mary Jane's Last Dance", Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers