THE TRUTH ABOUT DRUIDS

I once wrote a graduate paper on the subject of "male menapause". I did so only partially out of curiosity. I also saw an opportunity to examine the proverb "physician, heal thyself", as found in Luke 4:23.

I was going through a rough time and suspect some past events in my life had caught up with me. It was a time of both confusion and loneliness.

It was a fascinating how little was known about the subject at the time. The paper was well received and I was told it would become a reference source in the school library. One assumes you could find it in the "weird irishmen"' section , with the appropriate Dewey Decimal coding.

Many men who have experienced this time in their life - regardless of the label attached - are much more inclined to appreciate the demons of female menapause. Several things can bring on the onset of this malaise in men.

It would take too much time to go into it so I have created a story to capture one example of it's manifestation.

Occasionally I would wander over to Frick Park by myself to enjoy the glorious nature God provided. I would people watch from a park bench, feed peanuts to the squirrels, listen to the birds, and smell the flowers. I often waved to complete strangers (as opposed to those people I knew who, like myself, were only 3/4 strange.)

It was there I met Dora , an avowed "druidess". She was also a friend of nature. During our subsequent meetings at our Rappaport style park bench, Dora made many predictions about the future based on her intense study of nature.

Our attraction to each other started when I first commented:"It's a nice day" and she immediately agreed. As I said, I was very lonely and perhaps a mite too desperate for companionship. We immediately became immersed in conversation on a variety of subjects.

We didn't agree about all things although we were in harmony as to the immortality of the soul. This was due to our mutual familiarity with Pythagoreanism, which we both embraced.

As much of the druid instruction was secret, Dora had me take an oath never to reveal the subject of our weekly conversations in the park that summer. Being somewhat of a coward, and knowedgable of druid practices, I was thankful the oath required no blood letting.

Dora often spoke in poetic verse consistent with the communicative ways of her druid ancestors. It was difficult to understand sometimes due to our cultural differences. She insisted hers was the only true religion. However, she did think that whole thing about Saturday afternoon confession was pretty cool.

Unfortunately, we had other disagreements . I had to remind her often that despite what might have happened in Gaul, my country had banned human sacrifices - other than during the occasion of marriage.

I asked her once how she, a druid, came to be among us when scholars reported that most druids pre-dated the second century. Her response was that somehow her family had slipped through the cracks. For some reason I found this revelation to be both meaningful and insightful.
While I questioned some of her teachings as well as her general outlook on life, I enjoyed the feeling that to know her made me truly unique. After all, while studies of "druids" were many, only the Irish swore to the possible existance of the"druidess". Others carped, "Yeah, first it was leprechauns and now it's druidesses."

One day when it was raining I suggested we venture from our comfort zone and pop in on a local Irish pub over in Regent Square. It was a gathering place for the local intelligentsia and I was anxious to show off my new BFF. She reluctantly agreed to accompany me.

Dora was not immediately impressed when she ordered "blood of Yak" and was told by Liam, the Irish bartender, "We just ran out, but the truck should be here by next Wednesday."

A few of the regulars were turned off by her wearing a shroud. I attempted to defuse this criticism by telling them we had just attended a ritualistic wake in Rankin. While that satisfied them for a while I soon found that Dora was now engaged in a heated conversation with one patron over the possibility of Y2K in the year 2000.

I stood up to protect her from this uncouth ruffian when Dora slipped from her stool and a white plastic ID card was discharged by whatever she was wearing under the shroud. I picked it up from the floor and immediately recognized the familiar script of "The Carnegie Institute of Technology."

Dora then admitted she had been a member of their famed drama department in the early 60's and was one of those curious "dramats" we made fun of. She also revealed the card was old and she had been kicked out in 1966 due to her religious leanings - which were strange even for Carnegie Tech; let alone Carnegie Mellon.

It was at this time we parted forever. I knew our religious differences would preclude marriage - even in Massachusetts. I chose not to renew our relationship despite her conciliatory offer of two front row seats at a performance of Beowulf.

But, I learned a valuable lesson: Never accept a druidess at first meeting - no matter how lonely and confused you might be.