My parents are concerned that I could cause problems by publicizing their views on religion, politics, social issues, or anything else. Isn't this a Gawd-damned hoot and a half?
Seriously, is there one person who reads this semi-anonymous blog who cares in the least what my parents think about ANYTHING? I didn't think so.
Here's a possible scenario runnning through my father's mind. He hasn't actually told me this, of course, but I'm trying to get inside his head and see from where he could possibly be coming. OK, so here goes it: President Barack Obama is looking for a new surgeon general. Someone suggests Dr. John Rousseau (not even our real surname). Then President Obama happens to be trolling the WWW one night in his ample leisure time, and he comes across one of my blogs. He doesn't like what he sees, so he keeps reading more. Eventually he makes the connection that Dr. John Rousseau (not even his actual last name) is the father of that quasi-terrorist Alexis, or that rabid Anti-Mormon Alexis at the very least. He knows the Mitt Romney camp will make deviled Spam out of him if he dares appoint the father of a known anti-Mormon, who is himself somewhat anti-Mormon, to such an esteemed post as Surgeon General of the United States. The nomination is withdrawn before it is even submitted.
Or, looking at things as they might be from my mom's perspective: She decides to ditch the public sector once and for all and work in private practice as a theraapist even though she knows that half of her salary will go to henchmen attempting unsuccessfully to make collections for her. (It's got to be tough to maintain rapport with a client when that client knows that the rottweiler who is harassing him or her at home, at work, and on his or her cell phone, was sicced on him or her by his or her therapist. wouldn't you say? They could even make a reality series out of the activities of therapists' collection agents. It would make Operation Repo look tame by comparison.) Anyway, my mom starts private practice again and is lucky enough to build up a clientele right away because there happens to be a buttload of crazy Mormons living within walking distance of her office, and my mom leaves toys and cookies in the waiting room so that the Mormon ladies' four-year-olds can more easily babysit the three-, two-. and one- year-olds, as well as newborns in the waiting room while Mommy is talking to her shrink about the unknown stressors that make her want to step directly into the path of a speeding bus. Then one of them finds out the therapist is the mother of the dreaded Alexis. What one Mormon knows, they all soon know. There goes my mother's clientele, still stressed but in search of a therapist who doesn't think Joseph Smith was a pedophile and Brigham Young was a megalomaniac. Can you picture this? I can't either.
My brother, on the other hand, is gratefu; for any publicity I give his views oabout virtually anything. Unfortunately, he doesn't have any interesting views. Neither do my parents, but in their egocentric minds, they think someone might be interested and make the connection.
If you think I am endangerng my parents' employment status or state of well-being in any way, please comment. If you have any thoughts related to anything else, please also feel free to comment.
Alexis, who walked the perimeter of a large city block today. Carpe diem!