The Bride To Be

Once in a while, the news media picks a winner. The Jennifer ColdFootedRunaway Bride-To-Be-of-the-Century Wilbanks story has given every ideological axe a good grinding. Elian Gonzalez. Feh. Cuban Leaguer.

Anti-Christian bigots now have their evidence of the mental illness inherent in religion. Environmentalists lauded her use of mass transit and jogging. Gays snickered at the sanctity of heterosexual marriage anew. Religious bigots tested their tolerance of tolerance. Women's rights groups cheered her audacity against the patriarchy. Mens' rights groups want to see her jailed with the Wendy's finger chili lady and pay full restitution to Richard Gere's gerbil. The Blacks love a skinny crazy white girl. Upper-class whites feel guilty, and operators of helplines for 32-year old runaways salivate at the new funding they will get. Even Michael Jackson got off on seeing that blanket on her head at the airport. Every group has spoken except the Runtowards.

Runtowards are Runaways with a plan. Famous Runtowards include Roman Polanski, DB Cooper, Amelia Earhart, and David Hasselhoff, who escaped cultural persecution in America to find a hero's welcome amongst the tin ears of Germany. Runtowards are seldom heard from because they don't want to be heard from. Runtowards don't care what you think about them. They don't even care that I've dangled my past three participles.

Runaways are people who want desperately to be missed without the inconvenience of suicide. It's like arranging to attend your own funeral or producing your own remake of "It's A Wonderful Life" the horrendous disaster of a Christmas movie that only reinforces the myth of runaway martyrdom...and that capitalism is cold-hearted and wheelchairbound, but I drift.

Here's the typical runaway gameplan:

Step 1. Run away in sweats.
Step 2. Blame it on minorities.
Step 3. Uhhhhhh...get, like, famous and stuff?

Amateur hour. Dime a dozen, these Runaways. Just cowards who can't handle the truth so they strive to manipulate it by conspicuous absence. Runaways, like maps, are useless without a destination.

I ran away once. About 10 years ago, my boss at a radio station pissed me off about an hour before I was scheduled to go on air. I walked out of his office and straight to the parking lot without telling anyone. Bought some snacks and Cokes and turned on the radio for the night's entertainment. The "Will They Need John" Show was starting soon. That show never aired. The "Warm Available Body Who Pretends John Never Existed" Show ran instead. Newspapers all over town spiked the "Where's John?" stories in favor of more compelling stories of Long Island sewer bond issues. I ran toward the Kinkos to make resumes, a converted Runtoward for life. Today, I come to you fresh off a yearlong blackballing from the broadcasting profession with a hero's welcome around town. I had a plan.

So, as a member of the Kickedout wing of the Runtowards Party, the last political group to leave the Greyhound bus station, let me just say this to the Runaway:

Hallmark makes no card for you. Jen, you were liked more in absence.