The Joke Was On Me (Part Ten)

In mid-March, my ex called me and excitedly told me, "Guess what, Lew? Dad wants me to go to NC so that we can have an engagement party for your family and friends!" - (when her family was here, they'd really only met a minimal amount of my family and my immediate neighbors) - This was GREAT news to me, as the next chance to see each other, to our reckoning, was going to be sometime in May. I was more than a little taken aback that her dad was actually encouraging it, but, as usual, I didn't yet have all the details. There was always "more to it" with the patriarse. I told her, "That's GREAT! Let's figure out when we can do this, and then you can take my credit card and buy a ticket for a convenient flight." She slowed a bit and said, "Well...Dad expects me to bring along an accountability partner." (ahem *cough* ahem) Me - "A WHAT???"



What the...?!


Turns out, dear old dad expected one of her sisters to accompany her for the sake of appearances, i.e., avoiding the "appearance of evil". Blogger friend Steve Scott once made a great comment about this: "evil has to actually appear for there to be an appearance of evil". I'm not making this statement to portray myself as a spiritual stalwart of some kind, because I'm not, but it's always been a sure giveaway of absolute spiritual immaturity to me when professing Christians obsess over the "appearance", or perception, of evil, totally misrepresenting and misusing 1st Thessalonians 5:22 (which the KJV translators did a VERY poor job of translating) and totally forgetting about John 7:24 as Steve pointed out.


{I'm gonna make a statement here that's probably gonna bring me some email grief...If you're a professing Christian who uses the bible as a rigid rulebook and as a rigid "arbiter of absolute truth", you've simply traded OT Law for NT Law. One legalism for another legalism - leaving NO room for the working of the Holy Spirit, which, btw, was the promise of Christ to lead us into all truth (rather than a non-existent promise of "the bible" doing so).}


I gave her my credit card information, and told her that I'd only buy HER ticket, not any ticket for any "accountability partner". It isn't like she was a recovering alcoholic (although she did come from a family of religioholics and imbiblers). She didn't say much about buying a ticket, but she did ask, "But won't people think poorly of a young woman coming to visit a young man all by herself." I told her, "The people here will think the strange thing is the 'accountability partner'...trust me...They'll find it as strange as I do. They'd see the entire concept as an admission that you're a horndog that has no self-control." She could barely grasp that people wouldn't think ill of her coming here alone. Ultimately, I told her, "I'll pay for your ticket, but anyone who comes with you will have to buy their own. I think it's silly, but I'm not gonna make such a fuss about it that it screws up an opportunity for us to see each other." We were able to settle on a date for the engagement party, April 15th, and we went from there.


The next week, I asked her if she'd bought the ticket yet. She got a little quiet, then sorta sheepishly said, "Lew, when I told dad about you buying my ticket, he said 'Absolutely not - It's my place as your father', so..." Then I asked her, "Ummm, ok, well, has he bought the ticket yet?" She said, "No, not yet. We don't have the money right now. We'll have it in a couple of weeks." Criiiiiiipes. I knew where this was gonna go. Good golly. I suggested, "You know, you should go ahead and buy the ticket NOW with my card when it'll be cheaper - and your dad can pay me back whenever. It'll cost more the longer you wait." She agreed that it was a good idea, but her dad again said "Absolutely not." What a prideful idiot. And again, I knew where all of this was gonna end up. I learned very early on in the music business that the only money you can count on is the money in the bank right now. You can NEVER count on the money to be made next week, or the week after, or the week after. For instance, I once had over $1500 worth of session work in ONE particular week cancel or reschedule within 72 hours of the scheduled dates. Imagine if I'd been utterly counting on that money for some particular reason. And, in LIVE performance settings, such as with her family, it's pretty commonplace to fall FAR short of projected goals on particular dates - even with contracts - when you aren't a recognized name in the business (which they weren't). The business is too fickle.


So, as we closed in closer and closer to April 15th, still no ticket(s). Finally, as we were getting right down to the wire, I broached the subject again. She said, "Lew...We've got a good weekend coming up. Dad's gonna buy the tickets after this weekend." *as my head banged, repeatedly, into the nearest wall*  I just didn't say anything about it, and we went about business as usual for the next few days. On Monday, March 31st, I got in off the road around noon, and had called her as I drove the 90 minutes from the bus to home. She was reserved, and I knew the deal, but I was tired, hungry, and in no mood to get into a sticky subject, so I stuck to the smaller talk and the "I love yous". Later that evening I took my folks into town to treat them to a belated Birthday supper for my dad (I'd been on the road and in the studio for most of the previous two weeks), and called her on the way. She was kinda distant and reserved again, so I finally just said, "You guys didn't make enough money this weekend to buy any plane ticket, did you?" She let go of an almost relieved (that I was broaching the subject and giving her the opportunity to answer), but sorrowful, "No." I just said, "Take my card. Buy one ticket. Please. Please do this." She agreed to purchase a ticket. She asked, "What about my sister's ticket?" I told her, "Just buy one for you right now, and we'll talk some more about this later."


His patriarchal pride ended up costing me twice as much (ticket price) as it would have if common sense had been used from the beginning. But NOOOOOO! Even common sense is expendable in the patriarchal paradigm. Why wouldn't it be? Humanity is. Is common sense more valuable than humanity?


One very sweet thing that did happen about this time, though, was that I received a package from her in the mail. It was sealed with kisses (so, she had me at "hello"). Inside was a DVD she'd made for me. On it was a VERY sweet personal message to me that I could hear coming from her beautiful face, along with a bit of a tour of the property which they lived on, a visit to the apartment (on said property) of her sisters, brief "hellos" from members of her family, and, miracle of miracles, her father exclaiming, "You're perfect, Lewis! God couldn't have answered our prayers any more perfectly in a man for our daughter!" (I'm flipping a coin as I type to determine "laugh" or "cry") Total slithery snake. But the rest of the DVD did my weary heart good.




At their April fools devotion/indoctrination session/group business meeting, things got a bit contentious. Her buying the ticket didn't sit well with her father - nor did the fact that only ONE ticket was purchased. It made me angry that he'd come down on her pretty heavily. Afterward, she called and asked, "What do you want to do, Lew? What should I do?" I suggested that she just avoid her dad as much as possible for the rest of the day, allow me to get my thoughts together just a bit, and we'd talk again that night. I knew some MAJOR decisions needed to be made about our relationship - concerning boundaries for her family - and I didn't want to make them in the emotion of the moment.


That night, I called her and asked her a couple of direct questions and dealt with the direct fallout of the answers. I asked her, "Do you BELIEVE you need an accountability partner to come here?" She answered confidently, "No...that was just for dad's sake." So then I asked, "Do you BELIEVE your dad should have authority over our relationship?" She answered, "No. I always thought he'd step out of it once we were engaged." I said, "OK then, as far as I'm concerned, and based on what you're telling me, you're coming here alone, and your dad no longer gets a say in ANYTHING in which he isn't directly invited to have a say. His 'guidance' has already cost us (I looked at us as an "us" and a "we" - what was mine was hers) financially, and would cost us even more if you brought a sister, so, NO. I don't want his 'guidance' to begin to cost us beyond our wallet, either, and I'm afraid it will. Are you okay with what I'm saying here?" She was crying at this point, which broke my heart, but responded, "It's all true, Lew. This needs to be about us. I made my promise to you and to God." As much as I hated to do it, I had to tell her that it was up to HER to communicate the boundaries to her dad - otherwise, we'd have nothing more than the peeing contests of the previous fall. He'd blow me off unless she was standing with me. He'd HAVE to listen to her. She realized this, and I was soooo proud of her.


Keep in mind, I still didn't know much about "spiritual abuse", or any abuse in general, and it's true impact on the psyche and heart of those under it's sphere of influence. I had seen red flags for a very sinister form of abuse (which I'll discuss more at some point in the story), as had others, but still, I was flying blind about so much of all of this. I have a much better understanding NOW of just how big of a deal standing up to her father was for her. Then, I still largely saw it as a grown woman needing to recognize right and wrong as what they were/are, and stand up for right. I don't think anything excuses people for failing to do what's right in a given situation, but I now understand the weight of guilt and manipulation under which the abused make what are, more often than not, bounded choices of predetermined right and wrong, and I now understand how paralyzing it can be for the abused to have to recognize, and act upon, right and wrong on their own. These were enormous steps for her. If I can look back at all of this and point to one clear mistake I made, this would probably be it - expecting more of her at times than she was capable of, given her environment and upbringing. My ignorance of the dynamic isn't much of an excuse.


The next morning, at their devotional/indoctrination session/group business meeting, she declared boundaries (that she was coming to see me alone, and that, from now on, she and I, with God's guidance, would be making the decisions concerning us), and the fit hit the shan. The meeting broke up without much being accomplished beyond contention and the wounded patriarchal pride, and later, she made her way into their office to call me and give me the details. She was only a few minutes into it when she abruptly said, "Lew, I really need to go..." and hung up. This scared me to death. The patriarse had stood outside the door of the office eavesdropping, burst through the door angrily (which is why she ended the call so abruptly), and began telling her how rebellious and sinful she was being, that I had "brainwashed" her, and that she was under his authority. When she'd say to him, "But I'm not under your authority", he'd respond with "YOU ARE UNDER MY AUTHORITY!" This authority ferris wheel spun around for nearly an hour, before finally, he threw his hands up in the air and said, "Alright then! You're not under my authority!", stormed out and slammed the door behind him.


When she called me right after this, I almost spontaneously combusted. I wanted to get my hands on his weasely neck. To call him crazy would be an insult to crazy people everywhere. I still didn't realize that P/QF was a movement in and of itself, and thought that most of his craziness was due to the small cult group her family had come out of when she was a toddler. But demanding that she, a 23 year old woman, recognize his AUTHORITY! over her? I can credit as much to the devil, but never, EVER, to God.


She asked me what she should do. I felt the FIRST thing she should do is find somewhere, ANYwhere, else to stay for at least a couple of days. She felt her grandparents' place would suffice. Since they spiritualized everything, and I mean every freakin' thing, I suggested that she find a spiritually healthy person somewhere to talk to about this stuff. Perhaps a pastor of good repute in the community or someone. She was embarrassed to talk to anyone outside of her circle, and while I felt she needed to do so, I didn't pressure her. She suggested seeking counsel from her grandpa (the patriarse's dad). I told her, "Bad idea." She asked, "Why Lew? He's a godly (uh oh) man and he feels the same way you do about dad." That struck me as uber-odd. If it were MY son being the kind of jackhole of a father that his son was, I'd have barred the doors and had a "come to Jesus" meeting. I told her, "Maybe he does feel the same way, but I don't know that. What I DO know is that this is HIS SON we're talking about, and criticism coming from MY mouth about HIS SON won't sit well with him even if it's the same criticism that comes from his mouth. Bad idea. Terribly bad idea. Please talk to someone else."


Well, she went to grandpa for counsel. *exasperated sigh-ish type of expression here*


She later informed me that the next day her grandpa wanted to talk with me, so she'd given him my number.


And, here we go...From here on out, I get introduced to a litany of legalistic gasbags who all seemed to be competing to see who could do the best impersonation of the Apostle Paul speaking the King's english. "Certainly not!" and "God forbid!" and such. Imbiblers and religioholics. Grandpa proves to be quite the, well, ummm...I'll just let the story tell itself in the next few installments. But, I'll go ahead a throw out another preemptive "What the...?!"