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Archive for August, 2016

danteDear Dante Alighieri:

First off, let me say that I love your work. My favorite isThe Divine Comedy,” with particular love for the “Inferno” part. I am an orderly person, so I gravitate to categories. The nine circles of Hell speak to me and my Type A personality.

I went on a work trip last week, and I’d like to add people to the circles, if I may.

Candidate: People who meander in the middle of the airport concourse, weaving side to side and making it difficult to walk around them
Circle of Hell: First circle — limbo (or maybe the vestibule — land of the indecisive)

Candidate: That guy in the bar who won’t let you have a drink in peace
Circle of Hell:
Second circle — lust

Candidate: People who stand in the middle of the moving sidewalk when they clearly should move to the right to allow people to pass
Circle of Hell: Third circle — gluttony

Candidate: People who take up the airplane arm rest immediately upon sitting
Circle of Hell: Fourth circle — greed

Candidate: People who take up seats with their bags in the airport gate area and look at you sullenly if you dare to ask to sit
Circle of Hell: Fifth circle — anger

Candidate: People who put their feet on their airplane tray tables
Circle of Hell: Sixth circle — heresy (because EWW!)

Candidate: People who are unaware of the circumference of their backpacks
Circle of Hell: Seventh circle — violence

Candidate: People who try to get on the plane when their zone has not been called yet
Circle of Hell: Eighth circle — fraud

Candidate: The pilot who wants to tell you too much about the flight when you just want to watch the movie
Circle of Hell: Ninth circle — treachery [Listen, Captain: You do your job (flying), and I’ll do mine (resting).]

Like I said, I appreciate order. I need these people to get it together or go to (their circles of) Hell.

Thank you, Mr. Alighieri, for considering my suggestions.

(Wait … What’s that? I’m a candidate for at least three circles, you say? No … )

Yours in boiling blood and fire,
Beth

danteinfernoninecircles

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imageDear Dominic:

This was your first week of school, but I’m the one who learned a lesson.

When we were shopping for last-minute school supplies, I gave you a little bit of a hard time when you wanted a pink binder. I said, “You are going to a new school. Are you sure you want to call attention to yourself and be the kid with the pink binder?”

You put me in my place — rightfully so. You said, “It’s just a color, and I like it. If the other kids don’t like it, that’s their problem.”

You are so right. You are wise beyond your 11 years. I was wrong. I apologize.

My knee-jerk reaction was a leftover of my childhood days where we did what we needed to do to fit in so that we would not be a target for bullies. Pink was for girls then. That I didn’t like Barbies was my own dirty little secret.

Your father and I have raised you to be an individual, to be inclusive, to be kind to others, to like what you like and not be ashamed of it.

We’ve clearly taught you well.

I’m sorry I forgot those lessons for a beat.

I’m so proud of you.

Love,
Mama

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