Poor Luther . . .

I used to be quirky. I love quirky folk. They live to their own beat. They see with different eyes. They can open new worlds if you'd just pay attention. A prime example is an old friend from college. She just published her second book. Lately by Sara Pritchard. A great read. I loved her first, Crackpots. Her passages read like memories floating just below the surface that come alive with the swish of her pen. There is one description of the contents of an old medicine cabinet and I wondered how she knew what was in ours growing up in the 50's. I love what she evokes. I highly recommend both books. They will indeed open new worlds.

But sometimes, quirky slides over into bizarre. We have one such sliding neighbor. They do exorcisms in the driveway. These rituals always come as a surprise, like this evening: the cacophony, the rhetoric. I am always taken aback. On one such occasion, they were beckoning the devil to come forth from some poor soul via cell phone. It is hard to ignore, even with the windows shut and the air running. Over and over they beseeched the devil to loosen his grip. Then finally, "Get thee Luther, out of this man's soul." That was it. I cracked up. I seriously debated opening the door and yelling back, I think you might have meant "Lucifer."

So where is the line for you? What sneaks from wonderful whimsy to just plain weird in your world?