Mary E. Adair
Fall Issue 1999
As a child I heard a remark by my grandfather (only a very few times) concerning one person or another. The remark was "He/she doesn't bear acquaintance." I was told it meant someone who was very impressive and supposedly full of good intentions and wholesomeness, who, on getting to know them, proved to be empty of such traits or might indeed exhibit a few very distressful segments of personality and actions. Only after a bit of maturity was thrust upon me when it came time to divorce my first husband, did the meaning become resoundingly clear to me.
Admittedly, I had set myself up to fall for the handsome stranger who strolled into my life for a few years-and made a lasting impact on me in many ways-not all good, not all bad. As a teenager romanticizing life and what I wished life to be, I penned the description of such a man, referring to him as a "Greek god" along with all the fabulous personality attributes this 'god' would have. Thus, when he seemingly appeared in the flesh, I was already half in love with him-the him/god of my dreams. But life isn't written so quickly, and happy endings don't always follow the script. Our marriage ended; we went our separate ways; many years later I learned of his death which was as flamboyant as he had lived-he met an 18-wheeler head-on in what was surely an unfair contest since he was astride a harley. The grief and sadness poured from me and I was glad of the husband I had gained the second time around for he was strong, kind, and supportive. He understood that I grieved the "could-have-been's" of that relationship, not the "what-it-was."
But the saddest of all, I think, is that he had turned out to be one who could not bear acquaintance.
All this to say that I have found our columnists to bear acquaintance well--professionally and personally well. I have had the privilege of meeting my partner and webmaster, and also Virginia Allen and Leo C. Helmer in person. Mike has known Connie Anast since they were teens and assures me she is still a family friend. It is a hope of mine to meet Cheri Kennedy and also the author of Astridlogically Speaking. However, that good fortune has not come to pass yet. This does not prevent me from feeling they are loyal and efficient writers for this little magazine, and I wish to certify that the hiatus of two months was forced on them as on us and was not in any way caused by lack of material to publish. Severe site problems coinciding with non-related crashes of mine and Mike's personal pc's served to sideline us….. but, we're back!!
If you were expecting to see your poetry or short story or article in this issue and it isn't here, it is because I lost it in my pc crash. All are invited to submit again anything they wish to see published. Our next issue will be laced with past published material that survived because we either had hard copies or had downloaded to floppies to work on at a different location.
Yes, we do intend to republish the Tale of Darkwing… and hope that soon we will have new chapters added to it. The Tales of the Good Book are around but must once more be set and edited for publishing in html. Already, readers may add to The Wall or to The Forum and are invited to do so.
We have a few new authors in this issue… Douglas Weston II, aka Simian, and Thur as well as Silver Heron join some of our former writers, including Mary E. Taylor, Phillip Hennesy, and Teresa Sterenchock,
Shortly before my pc lost everything (due to a worm virus named by McAfee as DMSetup) I set down to assess myself. I think now that this was meant to keep me 'hanging in' while waiting for us to get back online with another issue…
Where Am I?
Life has narrowed the borders around me-
Opportunities are slim.
Age accelerates time and necessity,
Still, I can call upon Him.
Whether He listens to concerns and fears-
Or, whether He hears a word-
It matters not when distress brings the tears-
The agony must be heard.
It's good to believe that Comfort exists
For any heart that's in pain;
That angels stand by, ready to assist,
Helping my sorrows to wane.
Yet, honesty tells me much is my fault,
Waiting for others to help,
And solving my problems just might halt
My cry-baby-urge to yelp.
So I'll push back borders-look for a gate,
And get myself a new goal-
Smile at the World, and set my path straight-
To put self-pity on hold.
Mary E. Adair, 8-19-1999
Reviewing that poem, reminded me of the old joke with the guy sitting on a park bench sadly bemoaning his fate. He said that a person came by, and told him to cheer up-things could get worse……. So he cheered up, he said, and sure enough! Things got worse.
But it did remind me to talk to God, to have Faith, to trust myself to be able to solve things with my friends' assistance and encouragement--no way to count the hours of hard work by Mike, my friend as well as my partner--so here we are again, and we expect the magazine will be better than ever.
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