BEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

Excuse me if I'm not my usual cheery self. My brains are completely scrambled from trying to attend both the Southern Baptist Convention in Salt Lake City and the Texas GOP Convention in Fort Worth last week.

Like the Brady Bunch episode where Marcia has two dates on the same night, it was quite a juggling act. Especially since I could hardly tell the conventions apart. They were having prayer rallies and Bible drills at the Republican convention. High tea and fashion shows at the Baptist assembly. Anti-gay, anti-abortion, anti-Clinton, both had hung the president in effigy. The only time I knew whether I was in Texas or Utah was when I tried to order a Sex on the Beach with my prime rib.

The choir from Goat Head Baptist was supposed to sing "I Enjoy Being a Girl" after Saturday's prayer rally at the GOP convention but Ewell Lavender, the choir director, got the schedules mixed up. It worked out okay, however, and we received a standing ovation in Salt Lake City. Everybody says it helped grease passage of the female servitude clause in the Baptist Mission Statement.

The resolution was scripted by a committee which included Dorothy Patterson, wife of Baptist leader Paige Patterson, who appeared decked out in an Easter bonnet reminiscent of the 50's. (Dorothy, not her husband.) I couldn't see what her hair looked like. But her husband Paige is not exactly a babe magnet which led me to propose that the Baptists elect somebody like Charlton Heston to head the denomination. Women are more inclined to submit to a guy with big muscles than a guy who just weighs a lot.

The Axel delegation returned from the conventions with the satisfaction of a job well done. Of course, the Goat Head Baptist choir can't compare to the chorus composed of the Christian Coalition, the boycotting Baptists, and Focus on the Family's Godzilla, James Dobson.

There had been little divisiveness. Republicans returned to their districts boasting of a harmonious convention unperturbed by factional bickering. It was as if Rep. Arlene Wohlgemuth of Burleson and Gov. George W. Bush had convened in the billowing clouds of heaven, casting aside their differences, stroking angelic harps, pronouncing peace, conformity, solidarity.

A nagging voice--was it Satan himself?--whispered in my ear "Don't be fooled just because Republicans are trying to 'act normal.'"

Resigned to the fact I would soon be living in a state transformed by the religious right, imagine my surprise when I got home and discovered rainbow flags all over town. "We're hoping to attract a meteor like those kids found in Monahans," said the mayor. "Axel could use $30,000 and last week Pat Robertson told Orlando they risked the wrath of God--including tornadoes, earthquakes and meteors--when they let gay activists put up the flags."

Meanwhile in Fort Worth, Log Cabin Republicans staged a protest because they were denied a booth at the GOP convention.

"Are the Republicans crazy?" I said.

"Fort Worth doesn't need a meteor. They have the Basses," said the mayor.

When I got home Sonny was on the front porch with a set of leg irons.

"After all these years of freedom I'm not sure I know how to become submissive," I said.

"Maybe this will help," said Sonny, handing me the personal ads.

"Submissive woman seeks dungeon adventure with Bad Boy," I read. Judging by the other ads, there appeared to already be a number of submissive women in Fort Worth which probably contributed to its selection as the site of the GOP convention.

"We don't have a dungeon but I guess you could chain me to the washing machine," I said.

Sonny liked the idea. Something tells me the Baptists would too.