​ I have these friends. They aren’t your normal, run of the mill, sane friends. You know what I mean by sane, right? Sane people’s lives go according to the best laid plans, their trains never derail, they are never set adrift and they never need a life jacket. But if they did, they would know exactly where they are and have extras because they had planned well. These are not those people. My drifty, derailed friends are the ones that brighten the world, one block at a time. The forces of gravity that pull us all together are strong and nonjudgmental, as opposed to the weak, sane gravity that judges and never shows its vulnerability.

For example, let’s take the folks I know who live on a particular corner in an historic southern city, with charming brick streets lined with oak trees that have dangling moss and sidewalks that are broken from tree roots. The front doors have lush seasonal wreaths and the backyards have pretty gardens and drippy water features. The local color is as vibrant as a showroom full of Tory Burch patent leather ballerina flats and we wouldn’t know if they are now passé. Nor would we care.

See, now you want to go visit too, right?

Recently, we had our first cool evening that was perfect for a front porch tarriance . My friend and I rocked in her white rocking chairs and sipped red wine, while we chatted about an upcoming non- profit fundraiser. We love to save the world, one cause at a time.

And then it started.

The fellow un-sane friends across the street, who had gathered on the upstairs porch, cranked up the volume…with a bull horn. It’s the same kind that the Po-Po uses to evacuate us when a category 3 hurricane is coming and we still don’t leave, or to tell you to spread out on the ground. The kind of sound that usually strikes fear and loathing. But what we heard was seated stand-up comedy coming through a device that’s meant to disperse people like us. When it comes to irony, the un-sane never disappoint!

Then we heard an unamplified voice say, “Tell them about Brenda!” which was followed by laughter. Then, the story was relayed through a bull horn, for ALL the world to hear, about a neighbor who was on a trip to meet an “old friend” and how there were some hot springs at night, some screwing that wrapped up years of sexual tension between the two of them, and just in case they thought no one noticed them making hot spring waves, her bathing suit was on wrong side out upon sheepishly slinking out of the water. This was a tip off to the sane people that the water may have some biohazards. SCORE!!!

We do not take lightly, the need to celebrate each other’s successes, since we are the kind of women who actually want happiness for our friends with none of that jealousy crap. Well, not just happiness….fulfillment, weight loss, love, pay raises and yes, the kind of great sex that deserves to be shouted from above, via bull horn.

And then the bull horn music started. “Everybody get up…….hey, hey, hey”, and instead of being ordered “Spread ‘em up against the wall!” like it sounded, we were ordered from across that Victorian era street to get up out of those rocking chairs and dance.   So, we did, while some other neighbors walked their dog by us on the sidewalk and said, “God, I love this place!!”  I had never met them, but I know that they, too, are un-sane.