BETTY

I wouldn’t exactly say I pray to Betty.

“Pray to” implies separation - Betty is Over There and I have to do something to Her. Plead to, Call, E-mail. Walk around the Wal-mart looking for Betty, screaming Her name. You know She’s somewhere, you just can’t see Her. Finally, deep between the the terry cloth robes where you least expect, there She is. Betty.

I don’t ask things of Betty often because Betty already knows what I want and need. TIVO is really cool. Already on it. I love Paula and Pooh. Check. Sometimes Betty won’t say much, like the Smart Girl in class. You’re not quite sure about the capital of Idaho and you turn and there She is, hands folded on the desk, smiling serenely. Boise’s urgency fades, replaced by the reassurance that Betty knows Boise. I bet if you asked Her later, She’d explain.

Or not. Betty can be pretty mischievous. One time I was walking Polly and there was a squirrel in the tree and I had a dog treat and I reached out to hand one to the squirrel and right when I reached out, there was Betty. “Pttthhhhhhpp”, She said. The squirrel took the treat and laughed before running off. Polly and I stood there with Betty Spit glistened on our noses.

Look up. Blue must be Betty’s favorite color because there's just so much of it. Before I was born, Betty and I stood at the Eye Counter. I pressed my nose to the glass, they all glistened on doilies on every shelf. I wanted to put them all in a brown paper bag to mull over on my bed later. “Just one”, Betty said. Which one do you like? “I love them all but I do love blue.” And that is How My Eyes Got Blue.

She’s bigger than you’d think. Sometimes I know she’s around and I’ll look Inside to see what she’s doing. Suddenly it’s Betty Balloon in the Betty Parade, inflating in my body, pressing against my skin until it bursts and Betty gets all over everything. Polly always has a big piece of Betty covering her face, Betty Bubblegum. She’ll climb on my chest and lick my lips, leaving a sweet piece.

Betty does love to dance, ask anyone, and Buddy, She is good. She does a fierce Hula Boola. Shake shake shake, Shake shake shake, Shake your Betty... Kids do the best Betty dance because later some people get rhythm which is just another way of saying “This is the Right Way to Dance”. “Right.” Hee hee, that’s funny. I’ll be alone in my apartment and hear one of Our Songs, me and Betty’s. Suddenly I’m wiggling my Thang and feeling mighty cool, awfully Together. I’ll look in the mirror and Betty is smiling. A “I’m proud of you even though you look like a fuckwad” smile. Betty grabs my arms and shakes out my fingers and we tango.

I sleep but Betty doesn’t. Actually, I’m not sure what She does. I’ve woken from a nightmare and think She’s gone but She was just in the other room and came when She heard me gasp. She tucks me back in and smiles again. A “What am I going to do with you?” smile. Thanks, Betty, for the breeze. I love that. Thanks for Polly’s howl. I love when she talks. Thanks for... what was it? Damn, I was just thinking about it.

Soon I’m deep asleep.

12:15:43 PM    sro home /