When I posted this link to the Washington Post article about the role of women in the Abrahamic religions, I suffered a brain cramp — the seventy-fifth thousandth of the past week — which was quite an improvement over the previous week’s record, by the way.
I had meant to include an anecdote about one of Cuppa’s experiences, but, alas, I forgot. It’s not easy being me.
However, I now take you back in my mysterious time machine to a Saturday in the mid-sixties when various youth of our church congregated for a workday. Cuppa was present, but she and I weren’t an item then although we became one shortly after and have remained that way for the remainder of the past century and well into this one. (May that reality continue for yet another decade or two or three.)
I have a recollection of washing windows that day but of not much else except for a dim memory of some of the kids who were present: Ron, Jan, Pat, Cuppa, Val, (another) Pat, and others, I’m sure.
Within that memory, I seem to see Cuppa, Val and Pat coming in the side door to visit the loo. And I seem to see the pastor or his designate barring the way and refusing them entrance. Because they were wearing slacks and not dresses! In the event, the ladies were required to visit the restaurant across the street to access a friendly commode. Quite possibly, we all went there for lunch; I can’t recall.
Of course, I would have forgotten the incident had I not later fallen in love with the lady and, therefore, having been reminded of the event from time to time as it came up in conversation.
I’m certain I thought it was utterly silly at the time, but we weren’t a rebellious lot and loved the church, so no one was ready to take the case to the Supreme Court of Canada or the U.N.’s Human Rights Council.
But it certainly gives one pause all these decades later — even if it requires two blog posts for this old brain to rally sufficiently memorialize the silly incident. I shake my head and file it under the I Swear You Can’t Make This Stuff Up category.