Thursday, July 29, 2010

Hey Lindsay, Wanna Trade???

Over the past week or so, I’ve been obliged, nay forced, to think about Lindsay Lohan. You know Lindsay, the “talented” child starlet who fell from grace when she repeatedly drove a car while drunk or high. In case you’ve been living under a rock a judge finally sent to her jail for one or more of those offenses. Totally unfair, I know. I guess that judge had heard the “I lost my passport at the Cannes Film Festival and couldn’t travel to get to court” excuse one too many times. With all the Lindsay news I was missing the moment to moment, phone call by phone call implosion of Mel Gibson. Not to mention news about either war going on or that pesky oil spill.

She got me to thinking about jail. What if we remove all the negative words associated with jail or a county lock up like one Lindsay is currently patronizing. If you didn’t use jail, punishment, incarceration, confinement, etc to describe jail what would you be left with? Here’s my imaginary conversation with someone trying to explain jail to me without using those words. I’m referring to my imaginary person at IP.

IP: So, Anne, we think you need a “time out” of sorts.

Me: “Time out???” Do you want me to go sit on the steps like my little boy when he’s naughty?

IP: No. This is an off-site time out. Call it a “regroup” if you will

Me: (anxiously) You think I need to regroup?

IP: Perhaps. Can you stand to hear more?

Me: Do I have a choice?

IP: I just need you to come with me for about 2 weeks, maybe less. There are lots of people who require regrouping

Me: So lots are trying to get into this place. Is it exclusive? Invitation only? Do you know someone who knows someone?

IP: Well…. OK. You can look at it like that

Me: I knew I should have received an invitation to Chelsea Clinton’s wedding!

IP: Not THAT exclusive.

Me: You’re trying to sell me a timeshare aren’t you? It won’t work. But out of curiosity, where is this place?

IP: Southern California

Me: Airfare for 3 better be included

IP: You still don’t understand. It’s just YOU who can go.

Me: Well, tell me about the accommodations for this place that‘s NOT a time share

IP: I’m not going to lie. They’re Spartan. The food is less than gourmet.

Me: Why would I want to do this? Tell me something good about it.

IP: Certainly. It’s quiet there and the dress is casual.

Me: You had me at quiet…. Tell me more. What will I do there?

IP: Not much.

Me: STOP!!!!! I’ve figured you out. It’s scrapbooking isn’t it. You’re going to take me someplace wonderful and then not let me out until I’ve cropped till I drop. Well you can save your pinking shears and acid free card stock on me!

IP: Let me cut to the chase. We’ll provide your clothes and your food. We’ll even tell you when to shower.

Me: Will I have to clean or cook or cut up anyone’s meat at dinner time?


Me: I’m intrigued. Telephone? Wi-Fi?

IP: No? But you can read books.

Me: So what am I expected to do there.

IP: Nothing. We’re going to leave you alone.

Me: Speechless…..

Me: Let me get this straight…. You want me to you with you somewhere for two weeks if they can keep my space for that long. When I’m there I’ll not have to cook or clean or deal with all the minutiae life. You’ll tell me what to wear and what to eat and when to shower. And the rest of the time you’re going to leave me alone????

IP: Yep. That’s about the gist of it.

Me: No wonder you can’t keep a place there. Let’s go!

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