JUST NOT GETTING IT . . .

There are many things in this world with which I disagree, but which I try, try, try to understand. Republicans. Religious extremism. Racism. How airplanes fly and cruise ships float. Why corn kernels come out whole in your poo.

But one thing I will NEVER EVER understand is how a parent can kill his or her child or children. I look at my friends now who have children of their own, and I can't picture any of them, no matter the tearful, frantic lengths to which they are driven, harming their children. For one thing, I guess I just assume that my friends are modern, rational, educated, intelligent, information and resolution-seeking adults who would never turn to violence or murder as a solution, and who would know better than to harm someone smaller and more defenseless than they. For another, I know that my friends are surrounded by an intense and strong network of family and friend support. Lord knows, I myself would drop everything and run over to someone's house if the baby was wailing and my friends could no longer take it. And on a very basic level, we all know right from wrong (I assume). We know that even if we wanted to harm or eliminate ourselves, there is no sense in harming or eliminating a child, one's OWN child.

So what is it about these parents who decide to kill themselves and take their kids with them? Or those who use their children as an emotional weapon, deciding that a child's murder is the best way to wreak revenge on a former spouse or mate? Or those who are simply mentally ill enough to think that God, Satan, the little elf in the corner of the room, is telling them to murder their children, or else? Or those who have absolutely no support network whatsoever to help them get through each day?

I just don't get it.

***

HUGS AND KISSIES . . .

Human behavior and expressions of affection are interesting to observe, especially among those in my immediate circle. My friends run the gamut of expression, ranging from all-consuming bear hugs to warm but distant waves.

I have girlfriends who are snugglers, bunny rabbits, burrowers. If there's a blanket or plushy pillow nearby, they're on or in it, regardless of whether I also am on or in it. If there's a greeting to be done, it's a tight hug and maybe a smooch on the cheeks. We share chairs, beds, lights-off-whispering-in-the-dark, face lotion, bottles of water and cups of coffee.

I have guy friends who offer hugs like enormous bears and kicks on the butt just because they can. They always nudge me to share an inside joke, rub my back when I'm feeling sick and acting like a baby, ruffle my hair to annoy me and engage me in all sorts of inane and serious conversations, whether we're huddled forehead to forehead on a couch or arguing in the open in a crowded bar.

I have girlfriends who are like sisters, but of the more modest sort. They don't give out hugs and kisses for free, but their care is evident in their words and looks and compassionate gestures. They tend not to snuggle but the distance is mere space, not a gulf. We dive right into deep conversations, then smoothly segue into the virtues of celebrity rags and how accurate they are.

I have guy friends who would never dare muss my hair, but aren't above a well-timed verbal dig or two. They remember the wittiest jabs and the funniest back-and-forths. They mentally file away a story to tell me, then grab my attention when we finally are face-to-face. They treat me as a mental equal or a colleague, but when push comes to shove, their loyalty is contagiously affectionate and physically manifest.

I have girlfriends who are closer than close, or at least getting there, but won't put an arm around me until we're standing side-by-side for a photograph. I have guy friends who won't take a photograph with me unless they are bothering me in some way. I have girlfriends on whose legs I would automatically recline. I have guy friends who would automatically recline on me, whether or not my breathing is cut off. I have girlfriends who are my sounding boards, guy friends who are my walking Kleenexes.

It's so weird to consider each of them right now. Friends who are like siblings to me, who show their affection in such myriad ways ...

***

TITS? . . .

I'm watching the AFI Tribute to Meryl Streep tonight. For a cheesy tribute show, this isn't half bad.

But the highlight thus far (almost an hour into the broadcast) is without a doubt Tracey Ullmann's introduction of one of the film segments. That woman is hilarious.