We're judge-y; let us help you

One of the favorite things Alison and I like to do on Sundays when we are together is to read advice columns in the New York Times and the NYT Magazine to judge others.

 In our defense, they ask for it. 

And as we are sometimes judge-y people, we like to be sure Kwame Anthony Appiah, John Hodgman, Philip Galanes and Roxane Gay are on their marks and giving the best advice. Today was an exceptional day as they all agreed with our assessments of the various situations.

"We should totally be advice columnists," Alison said. "Although, they might be nicer than we are with their answers. They're like how Aunt Lois (Stewart) would do it."

For example, one person explained their son had suffered from cancer, had gotten a "Make a Wish" vacation to Hawaii but was now in remission. The boy, just 14-years-old, said he didn't feel right about taking the vacation because he'd fully recovered and other people could benefit if they declined the vacation. The mom, I think it was the mom, asked if it was wrong of her to force him to take the vacation.   

The professional answer was long and discussed the mission of the Make a Wish Foundation, which acknowledges that families are stressed when kids are sick and deserve breaks, too, but advised the mom to let that awesomely compassionate boy make the call.

Our answer: "Yes. Yes, you are wrong."

In another case, a grown person's parents are divorcing after 25 years and the adult child can't stand not knowing all the nitty gritty his mom has declined to share after more than 12 hours of questioning from her kid. She's replied to some of he questions but mostly said it was between "your dad and me" "not something you need to know" and "not really your business." "Is my parents' divorce really none of my business?" the man-child asks, incredulously.

Kwame spends a paragraph explaining why the kid should stop hounding his poor mom.

Our answer: "It's none of your business, and from the sounds of it, the divorce is probably your fault for being such a crappy, demanding child!"

Another guy wants to get back his GoFundMe donation to a couple from his church who lost everything in a fire because the thank you party they held wasn't and individual, written thank you note. Plus, they were now going on vacation. Can he get his money back?

Kwame's answer went on for four long paragraphs.

Our answer: "No, you cranky old man. A gift is a gift! And they threw a party! Stay on your lawn."

Kind of the same answers, right?

We're thinking of starting an advice column right here. Send us your dilemmas, your quandaries, your situations where you just don't know what to do. We're nearly always right.

In other news:

Ali was home this weekend to go to a One Piece movie for which, she and her friend Kevin dressed up as characters. Later they drank their way across the city. Luckily for Ali, Kevin is a good wingman, er, drag queen. Kevin's character is a man stuck on an island and forced to wear dresses.

At 6-4 or so, he makes a striking figure in his pink dress, heels and wig. 

The group had left him standing along on the street as they jay walked and he held back because he didn't think he could make the light at the end of the night still in heels. A guy going through the intersection stopped his car in the middle of Broad Ripple Avenue to take Kevin's picture.

Becca and her friend Levi went with them, but I have no other shots. Saturday, Ali went to her friend Asher's birthday part in another anime get-up that included a black wig, a very short skirt and push-up bras and a stitching across her face. 

Asher's mother Emily, who took Alison's senior photos and who has hosted her in her house for many a sleep-overs and visits, didn't recognize her. 

She asked who Ali was, and Ali explains the character she's cos-playing. "No, I mean who ARE you?" Emily asked.

"I'm Alison: Asher's red-headed friend."

"No way!."

It was fun visit, which included a text informing us Ali was spending the night because she'd over-indulged and then ended with me getting a wake-up call because she woke up blind and couldn't drive home in the morning. Her contacts had gone missing, and she didn't have her glasses. She looked better when she left our house for the party than when she came home, I'll tell you that.

It's been a while since I reported from here.

I've struggled to describe the funeral for my Uncle Bill at Arlington Cemetery. the ceremony was unbelievably moving. "This is the place where valor lives. You can't buy your way in here. You have to earn it through sacrifice." The sky was cerulean. It was chilly but not bitterly cold. The Washington Monument stood in the distance. A full military band and contingent of riflemen and women were there. A riderless horse. Four white horses carried the caisson. Flags flapped in the breeze as we walked behind it. Taps. Roses. And then it was over and he was left behind in a field of hero after hero.

After the soldiers had left with impeccable military precision, Christina, my cousin and his youngest daughter, cried and said she didn't want to leave him there alone.

"He's not alone," I said.

I don't know if that helped.

T he Captain was amazing and  coaxed wonderful stories out of Aunt Gudrun, who I think found some comfort in telling us stories from their youth and world travels. One tour found him the military attache in South Africa where they entertained large dinner parties. She didn't just host, she catered, sometimes for more than 40 people. 

Jeff asked if Uncle Bill ever cooked for her in later years. She laughed and said he took care of the outside of the house. 

"What was his favorite meal? "Whatever I cooked, she said.

She wears two beautiful rings, one her wedding ring. "And the other one? What's that for?" he asked.

"Oh, that's just for good behavior," she quipped, flashing that movie star sly grin that let you know you weren't going to get the rest of that story, but it was a good one.

Despite the circumstances, it was wonderful to reconnect with Christina and Aunt Gudrun, Sonja and her daughter, Nico. I will always be grateful that we went early and had a whole day to help with final arrangements and just see each other again. It was like we were 12 again. And I got to finally meet her daughter, Jesi!!! 

At one point, Jeff said, "You really like her." 

"Of course I like her," I said, not knowing why our affection for each other struck him so profoundly. She is my cousin, after all. We spent many a sun-dappled summer at my grandmother's house eating watermelon, climbing trees and walking barefoot down a gravel road for ice-cold Fresca at Hardwick's store.

"So why haven't we made time to see her?" he asked. "It's criminal that you haven't see her in so long."

Right you are, Captain Reed. Right. You. Are.

We'll fix that next year with a visit to Washington State.

In recent weeks, I took my first trip to the Covered Bridge Festival with Book Club friends Niki, Kate and Amanda, which was super fun. Friday night was the annual Taste fundraiser for the local Ronald McDonald House, but I have not photographic evidence. It was a great night, and I'm grateful to Eric and Tracy, Lisa and John (whose flight delay made him a no-show) Tina and John, Josh Lee and Bruce Colville for coming and contributing. It's such a wonderful cause.

Jeff and I also recently went to Alex Vielee's wedding reception which was in a beautiful barn in the middle of nowhere. It was built as an event center, so no animals ever ate hay there. The biggest clue was the enormous chandelier. It was super pretty and fun. A perfect day for stunningly beautiful Alex and Paityn.  

I'll end with Halloween, which was fun because we had great weather and a block party on the street in front of our house. Our neighborhood is full of great people. The Captain was in good form, participating in the chili cookoff and serving up whiskeys, ryes and "mai tais for moms" and keeping the fire going. Lots of trick-or-treaters and fun with great people.

Don't get mesmerized by this photoshoot download. Ali and I still need your questions about how you should live your life. We're eager to set you straight.