Five Star Friday's 224th Edition Is Brought to You By Ken Kesey

This week's Five Star Friday is brought to you by the death of a mother, bearing witness, the wedding of a dear friend, the love of a son, homosexuality and a close-minded church, the happy consequence of being honest about being gay, a second time around, being fifteen, and Ken Kesey:

Sue reading over Ken Kesey's shoulder

photo credit:

Todd Mecklem

The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you’ll always be seeking. I’ve never seen anybody really find the answer. They think they have, so they stop thinking. But the job is to seek mystery, evoke mystery, plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom. The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer.
     — "Ken Kesey, The Art of Fiction No. 136" by Robert Faggen, in The Paris Review No. 130 (Spring 1994)

Happy Friday!

"

Sylvia Steinhardt: September 2, 1922 – January 17, 2013

" from

The Squashed Bologna

:

I had told you it was okay to go, had whispered in your ear that I knew how tired you were, how in need of rest and cessation of pain, of peace. Had given you my permission to go.
I wanted to take it all back, to beg you to stay.
But it was too late.

"

I bet you’re wondering about The Middle School Columnist’s tan.

" from

Ann's Rants

:

My step-sister Amy got to come too, which isn't fair because she didn't have to go to Hebrew school or even have a Bat Mitzvah, but she makes me laugh and stops me from being so bored. I don't know if you know this but you can get bored anywhere, even if palm trees and lying out are available and especially if you are in a land of no cute boys.

"

I Want to Remember

" from

Walking On My Hands

:

I am not here to give testimony to a god but instead, to the way the world crouches between beauty and despair, each a tragic partner to the other.

"

The Book of Love

" from

Gluten-Free Girl and the Chef

:

This really has nothing to do with food. Or gluten. Or anything I write here, normally. But I had to write it. I've been changed by that evening. I find myself, in my late 40s, drifting into a new period of my life.
I want my only anchor now to be love.

"

Nine Years Old

" from

Mommy's Martini

:

Nine is nothing if not competitive. But it is also, quite beautifully, able to be happy when someone else wins a contest. Any contest at at all.
Even one over whose lovie is oldest.

"

I Got Saved At Jesus Camp

" from

Life with Roozle

:

My [parents] picked me up Saturday and I read my bible the whole way home. The bible that my dad had found for me on the shelf when we read it was a requirement for the camp. It said, "To Ray, on your birthday, from your father." It had never been opened. Except to read that little note on a December day in 1986.
Now it was highlighted, underlined, and post-its stuck out the side. When I decide to do something, I do it. Especially when that something is Getting Saved.

"

The Lonely Business of Finishing A Book, Redux

" from

Jane Devin

:

I didn't feel the need to share my news with the barista at Starbucks when he opened up shop at 5:00 this morning. I didn't feel exhilarated and I didn't get teary-eyed. I didn't write emails, or start ginning up my future hopes. Instead, I considered the breakfast special at Frankie's and then decided that coffee was enough.

"

The Man In the Beige Windbreaker

" by

Didactic Pirate

at

DadCentric

:

The man simply sat back and said, "I just wanted to tell everyone that I'm happy. I'm happy that I get to come here every week and say that I'm gay. I'm very content with that. So thank you, all of you."
I learned later that the man had been coming to this group every Thursday night for years. He told his wife he was going to a friend's house to play cards. And instead, he came to this room. He came here, sat in a metal folding chair, existed silently as a gay man for two hours, and then he went home.

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