List of Officers:
President: Gloria Fenton
Vice President: Michelle Stuart
Sec/Treasurer: Sandy

Newsletter Staff:
Editor: Tanya
Publisher: Deborah Lynnette Lee

Once again, rain was also a guest at the Paradise Club and Alpha Omega picnic. However, it didn't dampen the spirits of those who attended - at least not much.

To Paradise, its officers and members, I say "Thank You" for sharing the day with us and for all the hard work that went into planning and making the event happen.

We also enjoyed the fellowship of members from TransPitt and the Erie Sisters. I think it's wonderful four groups in our area were able to share some time together. Perhaps more multi-group functions can be planned in the future.

To all Alpha Omega members who attended the picnic, brought food, helped set up and clean up, I give my own personal thanks. Events such as this - where we all can get to meet sisters from other groups - are important but it is everyone working together that makes them special.

To those who, for whatever reason, could not attend the picnic, you were missed. I hope you can attend next year's get together.

This is not a long "President's View" as I really don't have a lot to say this time. I will make up for it in the future, however! I look forward to seeing you all in September, sharing another wonderful time with my friends.

Sincerely, Gloria

Hello Girls,

Well, it looks like Summer is coming to a close soon. Say, come to think of it, Summer never really got started this year with all that lousy rain. Had I known it was going to be like this, I would have built an ark - a TV ark to preserve the TV population till the deluge was over! Oh well, it was just another Summer to pass. At least it wasn't as hot as last year.

Gloria and Kathleen had a nice cookout and the day was just lovely. It was fun trying to break the habit of always calling each other by our femme names. I was embarrassed I couldn't recall the male names of a few of the sisters as they are seldom, if ever, used at meetings. We had hot dogs, beer, pop and all sorts of goodies to eat and, of course, Joanne and Kristin brought desserts one had no willpower to resist.

Lori brought her wife, Karen, to meet our group for the first time. As we all know, it is a most difficult thing for a wife to do. We all appreciated that she came to meet us. Karen, we all hope we have made it a little easier for you. And thanks go to Cheryl Parsons for giving Karen a loving hug from all of us. Thanks again!

Jennifer and I have made plans to attend the Miss Continental Pageant in Chicago over Labor Day weekend. This will be Jenny's first time at the event but my fourth.

Female impersonators from all over the country come to Chicago to compete in this grandest of all pageants. They are beautiful beyond all belief and their talents most entertaining. It's been five years since I last attended the pageant and, according to Chi Chapter's Naomi Owen, it is far better today. I guess we will be in for a real treat! Jenny and I will tell you all about it at the September meeting.

I have a little project going on which I hope our sisters will be able to enjoy. It's a little crazy but, what the heck, Michelle's crazy anyway, right? (Hey Tanya, here's a great spot for one of your editorial "digs".) [The prosecution rests its case. ed.]

Hardly any of us gals go to the bars any more since the joints have become a bit seedy and the neighborhoods positively nasty. We all miss a good nightspot after the meeting to enjoy our favorite drink and chit chat. It is most unfortunate but that's the way it is. Since we don't have another place to go and none of us have the bucks to buy a lounge, I came up with an idea: Why not have our own private bistro right in my basement?

I already have a corner bar with two stools and could get another section with two more stools to add on. I can also throw in one of those swank high tables with more stools. Additionally, I can decorate the place with all kinds of nostalgic signs and even a couple neon beer signs. How does that sound girls? Pretty good, huh? So girls, am I going to do it? You only live once!

I mentioned my idea to the girls at Gloria's cookout and they liked it. Someone asked if I was going to get a liquor license. There's no way I'll get into that, ladies! Each will have to bring her favorite beverage. I'll provide the washes, snacks and atmosphere.

Just think girls, her we all are at my place, sitting at the bar enjoying our drinks and chatting, soft music in the background. Yes, our own private lounge in a secure neighborhood. Of course, we'll have to be discreet about it. Usually in the late hours of the colder months it's pretty quiet on my street, I don't think it would be problem as long as we use common sense. [And, of course, drink like LADIES so there's no problem with anyone getting back to the Manor or home! ed.]

It should be fun. I'm looking forward to the "Grand Opening" sometime in the Fall or early Winter. Well, I can't think of much else to say. Just have a great Labor Day weekend!

Love, Michelle

No business meeting was held at the picnic. The minutes of the July meeting will be read at the September meeting to refresh members' memories.

September Meeting The September 12th meeting will be held at the Manor. The program for the evening will be a discussion session. At the time of this writing, the topic for the session is still under consideration.

For all you brave folks who would like to go out enfemme, or join us as your male selves, Pam F. and Megan have planned two outings for your enjoyment:

The first will be Wednesday, September 16, 1992 at Tony's Restaurant at 8 PM. (That's 20:00 hours for all you military types.) Place your reservation with Pam F. or Megan by September meeting night. Cost is whatever you decide to spend. The average cost for our last dinner at Tony's was about $40.00 per couple.

The second is a Halloween night out at a dinner theater. The date is Saturday, October 31, 1992. Dinner is at 6 PM and the show at 8:30. We will be going to the Carousel Dinner theater in Akron; about a 45 minute drive from Downtown Cleveland. The cost is $30.50 per person for the dinner and show. If we get 20 or more people to go it will be $29.00 per person. More details will be available at the September meeting. Reservations must be in to Pam F. or Megan by the October 10th meeting.

Reservations may be sent to:

Megan Parsons
P.O. Box 5284
Willowick, Ohio 44095

We will have one or two rooms reserved at the Manor for anyone who would like to dress before either of the events. The cost will be shared among those who use the room.

Hope to see you at one of these two events.

Love and Peace, Megan and Pam F.

To begin, an apology: It is the goal of the Newsletter Committee to get the SILHOUETTE in the mail the last week of the month prior to our meeting. Sometimes, however, it doesn't get out till the first week of the meeting month. This time we REALLY blew it! The picnic was the third Saturday of the month and most of you didn't get the newsletter till that day or after.

Occasionally outside influences create problems at the Windsor end, causing me to be slightly late getting the material to Deborah Lee for publishing. On other occasions, Deb has problems at her end, [vacation and her class reunion, 3 weekends] keeping her from processing the material I sent her. These problems are what often keep us from making our "last week of the previous month" perfect deadline. Even so, we have always made our "first week of the month" secondary deadline.

I suppose we were overdue for this to happen but, when it was time for the August issue to be created, Deborah Lee and I were both hampered by outside influences. The result was the SILHOUETTE arriving on your doorstep two weeks later than we would have preferred. Again, we apologize.

Second, a "housekeeping" item: A number of times in the past, I have requested authors send typewritten submissions (or computer disks) to Deb at the chapter's Elyria P.O. box and handwritten submissions to me at my own box in Windsor. The reason for this is Deborah Lee can use her scanner and "OCR" software to scan in the articles without the necessity of typing them. Handwritten articles, on the other hand, must be typed in by yours truly.

This system is working quite well except for one minor glitch. Jennifer is our chapter "mail (male?) lady", picking up the mail at the box and then forwarding it to the proper recipients. When she finds a letter addressed to "Alpha Omega, Attn: Newsletter", she automatically sets it aside for the editor. Occasionally, however, the letter contains a typed article which is supposed to go to Deb, not to me. Deb and Jennifer live 10 miles apart. Jenny and I live 70 miles apart. Guess who sees Jen far less often and thereby gets her mail far less often?

To clarify the situation, if you have a typewritten, printed or line art submission (cartoon) for the newsletter, mail it to Alpha Omega, Attn: Deborah Lee, P.O. Box 954, Elyria, OH 44036-0954. Jenny will then get it to Deb immediately so she can scan it and have it ready to send to me electronically for editing. If your submission is handwritten, mail it to Tanya Brown, P.O. Box 257, Windsor, OH 44099-0257. I will then type and edit it here. I hope this clears up the confusion.

Well, "Picnic IV - The Soggy Sequel" is now history. As with the previous three Paradise Club/Alpha Omega picnics, a great time was had by all though, I must confess, the concept of "liquid sunshine" was pushed to the absolute limit this year!

What made this year's version especially nice was that both TransPitt and the Erie Sisters were represented. The only local group missing was Columbus' Crystal Club. As at a convention, it's great to meet and get to know girls from other areas, especially those you've either heard of or corresponded with.

I heard some talk concerning, for the want of a better term, a "consortium" of the five area clubs getting together to discuss mutual concerns and the possible development of one or more joint functions. I really hope this comes to pass as, with this many groups within a four hour drive of each other, we cannot afford to go our separate ways. Additionally, members of all the groups should have the opportunity to come together at least once or twice a year in a social setting. Again, like at conventions, friendships would be created that will last a lifetime.

Speaking of conventions, PLEASE mark November 21-22 on your calendar. The Erie Sisters have put together what has to be a little slice of perfection - a convention for people who normally can't attend (or afford) conventions. The "Riverside Gala Weekend" will be held in a Victorian hotel in NW Pennsylvania which has been in operation since 1884. The cost of the weekend will be $85 for a single or $130 for a double ($65 each). That, ladies, is for EVERYTHING: Saturday's seminars and displays, the banquet Saturday night, the live entertainment, your lodging Saturday night and the farewell breakfast Sunday.

When was the last time you had the chance to experience a convention atmosphere with seminars, vendors, banquet, Saturday night "party time" and Sunday brunch for a measly $65 - including your room? That's only double what those who get a room at the Manor pay to attend our meeting each month!

If you've never attended a convention, now's your chance to find out what those who have are always raving about. Pam will be getting detailed brochures, maps, etc., to us as soon as possible. If, however, you'd like to insure you get your own copy, write to Erie Sisters Club, 2115 W. 8th St., Suite 261, Erie, PA 16505.

Love, Tanya

The July business meeting was followed by a presentation by Nanci from Wigs 'n' Things. She showed us several wig styles in various colors. She showed how to use hair clips and head bands. The wigs she brought all had adjustment bands so one size does fit all. The hair on some of the wigs was a combination of human and synthetic hair. She suggested to use Woolite for wig cleaning. That is what she uses. Nanci was even wearing a wig herself. She removed her wig to show us what a wig cap is. The wig cap looks like a nylon baldy skullcap used in theater or at halloween.

Charlotte modeled two of the wigs, a blonde and "school marm" brunette with a french braid. Janet modeled two different blonde wigs. The one made her resemble Dolly Parton (or so the consensus said). Janet replied by saying she would need help from Tanya to play that part. The other wig raised cat calls since it made Janet look like a drag queen. [Pretty bad when a wig makes a GG look like a DQ (?). ed.]

Megan was good enough to sport the next wig. She modeled a blonde wig which, again with the critique of the sisters, resulted in her being called "Broomhilda the Witch". Nanci placed a round pink hair clip on the back of the wig and others said that Megan would be better off walking backwards. She then modeled a brown curly wig. It made her look a lot better.

I tried on a blondish-brown wig which was cut full and curly. It really made me look different. Debbie took a picture of me and, when the pictures were developed, she wondered who the lady was in that particular shot! She had forgotten she took the picture. Maybe wigs do make the person?

Nanci displays about 100 wigs at Wigs 'N Things. It is located in Rolling Acres Mall, which is near Akron. There is no problem with getting a fitting, just let Nanci know in advance.

That's all for now, see you at the September meeting.

Love, Elaine

Part I
The number nine has been used throughout time to refer to women. Such as the "Nine Ladies of Derbyshire", the nine daughters of Hegar, the god of the sea etc.

The circle represents femininity itself, since women are psychologically equipped to receive and contain. The circle can be entered and left at will and further represents security. In a circle there is no beginning and no ending, therefore there is no pecking order, only equality.

The nine archetypes I will discuss are: The Queen of Beauty, The Weaving Mother, The Lady of the Night, The Queen of the Night, The Great Mother, The Lady of the Hearth, The Queen of the Earth, The Just Mother and The Lady of Dance.

How many of these archetypes will we find in ourselves? Will we find any? You be the judge.

The first of the nine is The Queen of Beauty. She has many faces; beauty is not fixed. She is like the diamond in sunlight. No matter which way you turn it you will see a different aspect of beauty. Beauty is within, beauty is without; it is timeless. It is as soft as the mist at sunrise or as calm as the lake at sunset. She can be seen in the wind before the storm as well as the calm after.

Some would say beauty is that which can be seen with the eye. In our society a beautiful woman has a slim figure, adequate breasts and a feminine face which looks equally attractive with or without make-up.

Yet the essence of feminine beauty can be seen in a gentle smile. It can be seen among ugliness as charm, wit, grace and gentleness. They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. How true it is.

I once took care of a woman who was a frequent patient at the hospital where I worked. The ravages of time and disease had taken their toll on her body. With each admission she was a little worse. Finally on a cloudy late winter afternoon she passed away. Her passing was a blessing, as her diseases had taken a heavy toll on her. Breathing was the only work she could do.

Through all of her admissions, she remained pleasant and exhibited a charm and peacefulness I have found in no others. Her passing will not be in vain for I will always remember the time we talked and laughed together while I took care of her. So you see, beauty is not only physical but can be the very essence of one's spiritual being.

Every woman makes a choice about her appearance. She can exercise the power of the Queen of Beauty, which is to express qualities of being through physical medium. We, as women, can dress "to the nines" or as dowdy as we please. We can dress in a fashion which accords our essential character or create a fantasy image that bears little resemblance to our personality. There is no right or wrong. We respond to the demands of our lives, moods, life changes, etc.

The pursuit of physical beauty has caused women enjoyment, frustration and amusement throughout the centuries. Yet it is our Achilles heel. The handmaidens of the Queen of Beauty soon learned they can lift us up or slay us with a word. The word can be mightier than the dragon slayer's sword. The word can lift us to the heights of glory in our darkest hour. These powerful words refer to our physical beauty. Those who wait on us in dress shops, hair salons or makeup counters hold the key to our most treasured possession, our beauty. Yet, if we are comfortable with who we are on the inside, the words become moot.

In order that we may know and understand beauty and be truly beautiful, we must also recognize ugliness. Beauty that denies ugliness becomes shallow and artificial. Confidence in the feminine within allows us to let go of the outer image.

Women have the potential to link physical and the spiritual beauty. It requires struggle, passion and continual adjustment. The Queen of Beauty reminds us it can be done.

For most of us, the beauty of youth has passed us by. As we grow older, our character is etched in our appearance. Our outward appearance is thus enhanced by our inward beauty.

What then has the Queen of Beauty left us? She has left us a gift, "...physical beauty. A sense of inner worth and a talent for reflecting it in the outer forms and appearances. An admirer who appreciates you; a lover who draws the best from you. Arts of color and harmony; ability to create beauty in the environment around you." (Cherry Gilchrist: The Circle of Nine, Arkana books, 1991. p34.)

So, the next time you sit before the mirror to put on your make-up, remember the Queen of Beauty.

Part II
The Weaving Mother is the second of the archetypes we will discuss. At first you might wonder how a Weaving Mother has anything to do with us. After all, we cannot be mothers in the biological sense. But we can be weavers and we can be mothers in a more abstract sense.

The weaver takes the thread and, with skill, vision, patience, forethought and planning, turns it into cloth of exquisite texture and design. The Weaving Mother begins her task at the birth of her child. The umbilical cord represents the thread which binds us all to the feminine. Then, with all the skill and attributes of the weaver, she teaches the child and begins to form its future. Throughout life the child forms mother-child relationships, sometimes in the role of the mother, at others the child. These relations may be with many people at various times throughout life.

We are unable to give birth in the biological sense. Yet we have given birth. For many long years of gestation our feminine selves have waited, sometimes impatiently, for the moment of birth. Like the fledgling and the baby, she needed mothering. She was our child and we began, albeit awkwardly, to weave the threads of life for her.

But, how can we teach her? We have no knowledge of motherhood. We are not weavers. How then shall we proceed?

We shall follow the path of the three female Fates of Greek mythology, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. One spun the thread of life, one measured it and the third cut it. This corresponds to the formation of new life, its allocation of good and evil influences and its span of existence. (Taken from the Circle of Nine by Cherry Gilchrist, Arkana, 1991.)

The new life has appeared after 30 or 40 years of gestation. Its form has been determined by the information received during the gestation period and shortly thereafter. The good is the unification of the whole person, the evil the taboos against an alternate gender expression. The span of its existence is as long as we live and allow it to live within each of us.

What, then, are the life-long attributes of the Weaving Mother? Bonding is the first. The woman forms the bonds between herself and her mate by the act of child birth. This is known as sexual bonding in it simplest form. But bonding goes beyond the attraction of male and female. It goes to the very root of our interaction with one another, such as a teacher and pupil, father and son, friends or within ourselves. The Weaving Mother within us strives to bond our personalities into one whole person. She is like the Sirensong of Greek Mythology that lured sailors to their death among the rocks. At other times, she gently reminds us she is forever with us, even when times appear darkest for us, and beckons us to yield to her gentle touch. She also forms bonds with others like her for in numbers there is power to survive.

The thread of the Weaving Mother represents the link to the future, a promise of tomorrow. It is with this thread the Weaving Mother weaves her cloth of life. If it wasn't for the thread Ariadne gave Thesus, he would never have found his way out of the Labrynth after slaying the Minotaur.

Of the three fates Atropos was the most feared for she cut the thread. This represents a finality, a break with the past. Mothers and fathers alike must eventually cut the thread that binds them to their children. It becomes a matter of knowing when the cloth is finished and the thread can be cut.

What does this mean for us? Our feminine side has the thread that takes us into the future and links us with the past. Where will we cut the thread?

A purge is representative of thread cutting. Unfortunately, most of the time the cloth is far from finished and we must start over. For others, cutting threads with the past will free us of the bonds that hold us in the closet.

Our Weaving Mother then, holds the thread that keeps our person whole. She weaves the cloth that makes us who we are. Let us then be ever wary of the third fate, Atropos, lest she cut our thread and cast us into an abyss from which there is no return.

[Megan's thoughts on the other seven members of the Circle will appear over the next few issues of the SILHOUETTE. ed.]

Love and Peace, Megan

A couple times now, Janet Jackson has mentioned she thought I did a pretty decent job with my makeup. I do appreciate the compliment from a gal who knows makeup and how to use it. If I do look OK, it is largely due to advice from Janet and a few other gals plus lots of practice. As I told my Dad once, "To me, the secret of makeup is to use what I need to cover everything and yet it has to look like you haven't used a lot in trying to look natural." As I said before, a lot of practice has gone into creating an image with makeup which works for me.

I never really had real makeup to use until I was nineteen. I used my girlfriend's a few times - with her permission. However, as Paul Harvey would say, "It's time for the rest of the story!"

Many years ago - slightly after the Stone Age - when I was about four years old, my younger brother and I decided to play Cowboys and Indians. Naturally, since I had the six shooter, I had to be the cowboy and he had to be the Indian. He was almost three at the time.

After I had massacred my brother at least a dozen times, I realized something was wrong. Somehow he just wasn't fierce looking enough to be an Indian and, besides, he was becoming cranky from dying so often.

Even then my brilliant mind was active and came up with the perfect solution. As I told my brother, the biggest reason he kept getting killed was he didn't look mean. And being his older brother, always sensitive to his feelings, I had come up with the perfect solution to his problem. Taking his hand, I led him to the woodshed at the rear of the house and sat him down inside.

With considerable effort on my part (which I hope he appreciated), I took down the cans I needed and opened them with a screwdriver. I told my brother that, as soon as I was finished, he would be a perfect Indian. (I also planned to die once, just to keep him happy, then massacre him another dozen times.)

The reason he didn't look scary was he didn't have any warpaint. Everyone knows you can't be a real Indian without warpaint! Using my fingers, I dipped into the paint cans and began drawing lines on my brother's face. Then I had him remove his shirt so I could paint his chest to make him look even fiercer.

Naturally, I did such a wonderful job of painting him, and he looked so good, I wanted to be an Indian too. My brother volunteered to paint me but I knew I could do a better job as I was the more artistic. Luckily, we had an old mirror stored in the shed. Using it and my creative skills, I painted myself up as an Indian. I painted my eyelids, cheeks and any other spot that needed it.

When I finished, my brother and I were two of the best looking, scariest Indians I had ever seen. I was feeling mighty proud of myself. In fact, we were so convincing as Indians that Mom, when she came out of the house to check on us, decided to play Indian too - or so I thought. She let out a war cry that would have chilled the staunchest cowboy to the marrow of his bones. It was obvious she was on the warpath!

At this point in the narrative I will skip over some of the details of what followed. Let it suffice to say I came to know well that oil-base housepaint belongs on houses, not on Indians! I can still remember the warmth which filled a certain part of my anatomy that day as the point was indelibly imprinted in my memory. (Some people are not kind when acting as art critics!) The next time my brother and I played Cowboys and Indians, and for many times after that, there weren't any Indians around at all.

Fifteen years later, as I was applying foundation, eye shadow, blush and lipstick, that moment in my life came to mind again. I still think of it at times today when applying or talking about makeup. Yes, a lot of practice has gone into my trying to look my best. I do appreciate Janet's compliment but now you know the rest of the story!

Love always, Gloria

Late one evening I picked up a copy of TAPESTRY (#58) and began to scan the contents. Two articles piqued my interest. The first was an editorial by Holly titled "The Transgender Alternative." The other, an editorial by Lee Reynolds titled "Lighten Up Ladies."

The first article spoke of the transgendered area of our existence - that area which lies between the crossdresser and the transsexual. It also spoke of androgyny, which is the melding of both genders in an ever-changing and dynamic balance of personality.

I feel this article is of importance to those of us who are seeking our gender identity. Oftentimes we exhibit two distinct genders depending on the mode of dress. This forms a polarity in our personality. We, therefore, continue to oscillate between the two. The article points out how many people who become disturbed, sick or unbalanced are actually stuck in the never-ending oscillations between masculine and feminine.

The article goes on to point out that, when the two begin to merge in a middle pathway, an energy is produced and the person lives in balance. Here in lies the crux of the matter. How do we achieve this balance? We were brought up males and are required by Society to act as such.

Society is more tolerant of the polarity of masculinity and femininity than it is the ambiguousness of the middle-of-the- road approach of androgyny.

Enter the second article. It points out we can mimic with almost absolute precision the female persona. But, under the facade, we are still males. You will note I underlined "absolute precision". This is the male in us doing its male thing. That is, we are obsessed with perfection.

When we are growing up, we are taught to keep score to see who wins and who loses. We are taught to be perfect. (A lesson my father taught me very well.) Therefore, when we dress everything must be perfect in makeup, dress, hair, etc., etc., ad infinitum. When we go out dressed we count passing as a victory; we won!!!! Or did we?

Did we really win? Or did we just score another victory? What if we were discovered? "The agony of defeat" - and I am not referring to a tight pair of heels. Yes ladies, our masculine selves let us down again. We kept score while we were out. We were competing, but with who? Ourselves? Yes, we were competing with ourselves against Society. We are more concerned about what we are than who we are.

Women are, for the most part, not competitive. A woman in business would rather find an equitable solution to a problem than fight a win/lose battle. A women's orientation is to BE, not to DO. Are you beginning to see some light over the horizon?

Women rarely keep score. They judge outcomes by feelings instead of behavior. If it feels good, it probably is good. This we call women's intuition.

"So lighten up, ladies. Learn to tap those same feelings that women experience by just being who rather than what they are. For goodness sake, let's stop counting and start enjoying." (Lee Reynolds)

Have you ever noticed how much a woman touches things, like her clothes, hair, skin and even other people? She savors every feeling of being a woman. We are so obsessed with doing it right that we completely ignore the simple pleasure of crossdressing.

Now you are wondering how these two articles have anything to do with each other. Right? In the oscillations between masculine and feminine, we are unable to assimilate the inner workings of a woman because we are too busy trying to be the perfect replica. If we lean toward androgyny, we reach a point within our inner selves where we can experience the same feelings that a women experiences, every day of her life. How wonderful this would be.

I am going to share something with you I do not normally share. For many years I have wondered why I have been relatively unsuccessful in an all-male environment. The fact is I have not been taught to be aggressive or to count wins and losses. I think this is one reason I do not enjoy sports or anything associated with sports. Yet, however small, this need to be a winner has crept into my persona. Have any of you had similar experiences?

So we must be comfortable with who we are rather than what we are. We must learn to think, judge and evaluate and to tie these into our emotional responses of the here-and-now. This is what allows a woman to laugh, cry, smile and connect with a variety of emotional responses. Do you know what really sets the CD apart from a woman? The woman will always be the one smiling.

Love and peace, Megan

It was as if Friday would never come. The anticipation of that elusive day was like being a school girl waiting impatiently for her first date. You see, with two inquisitive teenagers, Kristin seldom has the opportunity to be herself at home. But this Friday would be different.

My daughter had been away at camp for the past week and would not return until Saturday. My wife, Joanne, was leaving Friday morning for a class reunion in Michigan. My son was the only obstacle left.

Being somewhat of a con-artist, it wasn't very difficult to convince my son how concerned I was for his mother traveling alone and that she needed a MAN for support. It worked, even though I am sure Joanne would rather have Robert Redford instead!

Concentrating at work was hopeless as I tried to decide what outfit Kristin would wear that night. It must have been the first day of Summer. It was the longest day I have ever had to endure. But endure I did, and at 4:30 I was out the door heading for home with a brisk tailwind.

Upon reaching home I was surprised to discover my neighbor, the Baptist minister, was having a yard party with both our adjoining drives full of his guests. As I negotiated my way up the drive, my heart sank as one of my unanswered question had just been solved. I still did not know what I was going to wear but I did know where I was going and it was not where I wanted to send my neighbor!

Being a good neighbor, I quickly entered my house, kicked off my shoes, threw a TV dinner (no pun intended) into the oven and headed to the bathroom for that sadistic ritual with a razor.

After eating, I returned to the bathroom to attempt a work of magic. After months of practice with applying makeup at Lakewood Manor, I was greatly surprised at what one can do when there is a little light on the subject. Determined not to waste my makeup efforts for only my dog to see, I was going to have to leave the house, neighbors or not.

My wardrobe was not quite as easy as the makeup. After trying on nearly everything in Kristin's closet, I advanced to my wife's with little success. Now it was time to invade my daughter's lair. To my surprise I found a top that went perfect with my black stirrup pants. I always complained that my daughter bought her clothes too large and they looked sloppy on her. She just replied I was old fashioned because that was today's style. Well, this old girl will never complain again.... Thank Heaven For Sloppy Little Girls!

Donning a new wig, it was time to check once again on the progress of my neighbor's party. Only a few people remained and as it was almost dark I thought I would wait about 30 minutes before leaving. I still had not made up my mind where to go. The movies seemed to be about the safest, since Joanne and Kristin have gone several times in the past. But.... this will be the first time by myself. How I wish I had called another Alpha Omega sister! The movie I had hoped to see, "Far and Away", had been showing the day before at a nearby cinema but today it had changed to "Lethal Weapon 3". For some reason I felt that this type of movie was not what I would expect a single young lady to see by herself! I had hoped to go to a theater which only showed one movie. That way I would only have to give the attendant the correct change and not say a word, just smile. Well, the only theater that had late showings I could make in time was a multi-screen theater halfway across the county. This posed another concern. I know many police officers throughout the county. That is why my wife always drives whenever Kristin goes out and then we usually travel to another county.

The last guest had just left my neighbor's house. It was the hour of truth. Does she or doesn't she? With a deep breath I grabbed my purse and headed for my... pickup truck. Yes ladies, all of us country gals drive pickup trucks. And I still have not found a graceful way to get in or out of them. Well off I went, paying so much attention to the traffic laws I was nearly four miles from home before I noticed the gas gauge was on empty. Knowing how inaccurately the gas gauge reads, I was sure I had enough gas to get to the movies and back. But this was not the time to fool around and leave my fate to a gas gauge. The self-serve station I chose didn't have any customers so I felt a little safer. I sat there for a few moments, took another deep breath and started to get out just as four customers drove in. It was too late to do anything else so I just tried to relax and do what any young lady would do - act helpless, fumble with the gas cap and the controls on the gas pump. By the time I had finished (And I thought my day at work was long!) two gentlemen were already inside paying. I had to walk between two vehicles, which both had occupants, to get to the office. One gentlemen who had just paid, held the door for me as he gave me a polite smile. As I waited impatiently in line, I kept wondering was my makeup and wig OK. They must have been because the clerk didn't even bat an eyebrow as my shaking hand gave him the money. Trying to be graceful and ladylike, I quickly hurried back to the security of my truck. With a full tank and my confidence reassured, I was ready to take on the world, or at least the movie theater!

Heading out of the gas station in the wrong direction, however, was not much of a confidence builder! But I did get to the theater just as their final picture of the night was starting. As I chased past three security guards, I noticed the lobby only had a few customers at the snack counter. Maybe it was a good thing I had gone in the wrong direction, because now I was not encountering a crowed lobby full of teenagers. With money in hand, I nervously approached the young lady behind the ticket counter. She asked could she help me and for the first time Kristin spoke to a stranger. In a voice as faint and feminine as I could muster, I requested a ticket to the show that had just started. I began to feel more relaxed once I entered the dimly-lit theater and found a seat that was not too conspicuous. Even though I had not planned to see this particular show, I found it very funny, which helped me feel more at ease. It was after midnight by the time the credits started to roll past on the screen. As the house lights came up, I thought the best thing to do was leave as quickly as possible by blending into the exiting crowd. I had no problems, not even a close encounter, as I made my way through the lobby and past several teenage boys girl-watching in front of the theater.

As I drove home, this time in the right direction, my confidence was at a all time high. Alone, Kristin had gone forth and met the world and survived. Nothing could ruin this moment! And then the euphoria of the moment was shattered. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted the DREADED SHERIFF'S CAR. He pulled out behind me and started to follow me down the road. These guys know my truck and they know right were I live. I was only a few miles from home but I knew if I pulled into my drive at this late hour, they would follow right behind expecting some coffee. Wouldn't they be surprised coffee, tea and ME! I decided to drive by my house and turn down a nearby country road. My luck was with me that night. They just kept going straight.

Well, I did make it home OK with only a few more gray hairs. But by now I am sure you are wondering what movie I saw. Well, I will tell you this much: White Men CAN Jump ... especially if they are EN FEMME!

I have never been much of a reader, especially of poetry, yet my favorite poet is Robert Frost. I thought I would share one of his poems with you. It has been a long-time favorite of mine and has application to many things in life. The poem was written in 1916, in the period he called "The Mountain Interval".

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