Palintology

Why does the name Sarah Palin still infect my ears? Who is this woman and how has she stretched her 15 minutes of fame into years?

As far as I can tell, she was a mediocre governor of our most desolate state, who could not handle the job so she quit. She is a quitter. Who does that? It's a governor  position for crying out loud, who can't do that?  In Alaska? Yeah, OK, she claims she was instrumental in some oil pipeline thingy. Right. The governor of a pissant state has influence in the nation's oil supply. Keep dreaming Sarah old girl.

So the 2008 race for the White House was in full force, and the Republicans had chosen a war veteran, a tortured POW, and good man, a solid candidate, but older, more "last generation". McCain was Coke to Obama's Pepsi, and the GOP knew that.  So they went hunting for a young, attractive, charismatic female to win over the liberal leaning conservatives and add some youth to the ticket. But they needed one who would sit down and shut up and do as she was told while counteracting McCain's Old White Guy stigma. Sarah Palin was found, vetted in a shorter time period than it will take me to write this, and we were off to the races.

We all lived the drama that was Sarah Palin. The Katie Couric humiliation, the Bristol scandal, the wolf -hunting -from -a -chopper revelation.  Oh the merriment went on and on and yes, I have to admit, she was fun to pick on. Tina Fey should be sending her thank you notes.

But the GOP got more than it bargained for. Palin became so popular with the conservatives that she became the unofficial head of the Tea Party. She was the first name thought of and poor McCain was her second.  She stole the spotlight and rallied the conservative electorate with lots of empty rhetorical patriotism and zero substance.  Even McCain was not happy with her lack of knowledge, strategy and character. But she stole the show.

And she knew it.

There is where it all went to hell for the Republicans. She ran the show. She was the show. In 2008 you could not turn on the TV without either seeing her face or hearing a story about her, usually more than one of those at a time. No one cared that she was ignorant (I can see Russia from my back yard) or that she pretended to know anything about, well, anything (she still has yet to name one publication she has read. Come on Sarah, you couldn't even think of the name of any periodical to lie to Katie about?).

I can look back on all this now and laugh and enjoy the nostalgia (and the old SNL reruns) yet the fact that she is still popping up on my TV is annoying me to no end and I want to know why. Not why she annoys me, that's obvious to me, but why is she still here?

Looking at her personal record through all this it becomes clear she is more of a self-centered media hound than a patriot. And really there is nothing wrong with that if that is what you want to do and the people love you. 

But don't, Sarah.  We don't love you anymore. You have a small following of groupies who probably own 10 rifles each and a survival shelter in Wyoming but that's about it. We are tired of your face, tired of your BS, but there is one thing we will never tire of; laughing at you. You have become a caricature of yourself. No one takes you seriously anymore. Even your conservative cohorts, even the king of rational conservatism, Bill O'Reilly, scorns you.

And here is why. Here is why he is annoyed that you will not appear on his show. Here is why we are all sick of you. Because there is nothing genuine about you Sarah Palin. You are all coifed and rehearsed and could not speak off the cuff if your plastic Jesus was held over the fire.  Bill O'Reilly said it best when he said the reason you keep cancelling your appearances on his show is that you do not have conversations or debates, you give speeches. You cannot and will not even try to answer an unexpected question. You never wipe that grin off your face, you play at being a Christian while throwing stones at everyone who doesn't agree with you, and you are just plain dumb. Now I do have to admit that the rest is old but the dumb is still entertaining. A good example is how she recently answered a question about the commercialism of Christmas. She said she loves it! Why, how better can you spread that Christmas cheer, that happy feeling of the season than to see others at the store and wish them Merry Christmas and spend your money on others in the act of giving...oh and it helps the economy which is always good. So no, Christianity and Macy's do not conflict. Seriously. She said this. Look it up. A  fundamentalist Christian. This gets an "LOL".  A couple good ones:

"He who warned, uh, the British that they weren't gonna be takin' away our arms, uh, by ringing those bells, and um, makin' sure as he's riding his horse through town to send those warning shots and bells that we were going to be sure and we were going to be free, and we were going to be armed." --Sarah Palin, botching the history of Paul Revere's midnight ride, June 3, 2011

"Well, let's see. There's ― of course in the great history of America there have been rulings that there's never going to be absolute consensus by every American, and there are those issues, again, like Roe v. Wade, where I believe are best held on a state level and addressed there. So, you know, going through the history of America, there would be others but ―" --Sarah Palin, unable to name a Supreme Court decision she disagreed with other than Roe vs. Wade, interview with Katie Couric, CBS News, Oct. 1, 2008

Was she a Vice-Presidential candidate then or a beauty pageant contestant for South Carolina? 

Now I grant you these are older quotes but to be honest whenever I see her face now I turn the channel quickly so I have not heard the good ones lately, but occasionally you get a snippet on the web.

So here we have a has-been governor turned media whore who refuses to do a serious interview and who is loved only by a select few, the rest of us getting a good chuckle from her pronouncements. Where is the harm in that? I will tell you.

This woman came damn close to being next in line for the most powerful position in the world.  This woman, who mispronounces words,  then says she did it on purpose to keep the language alive instead of admitting a mistake, has followers who believe our president was not born in America and by default that makes the entirety of our government either blind, stupid or crooked. This woman is looked up to by many Christian conservatives, yet her family will tell a different story behind closed doors (google Bristol and her husband) . She kills wolves for sport from a helicopter which is unfair and a bit sadistic. Even hardcore hunters I know think this is repulsive. She continues to feed the crazy machine...Obama is a Muslim, he wants death panels, the "war" on Christmas, America is the best, love it or leave it. She brings out the paranoia in people, the blind patriotism which, when left unchecked, leads to poor and possibly dangerous ideas and decisions on the part of the voters and ultimately their elected representatives.

Anyone with a following who is ignorant, misinformed , unethical and a quitter is unnerving. But when this same person is unwilling to admit to a mistake, a misspeak, or any faults, weaknesses or frailties, and makes excuses for her failings instead of correcting them goes from unnerving to  dangerous.

Merry Christmas, Sarah. May the new year find you cozy up in Alaska somewhere watching reruns of yourself  on your TV, and staying off of mine.

Note: Her latest blunder was just this past week I believe, when she compared the national debt to slavery. Way to go privileged white person.

Living In The Real World at McDonalds

I consider myself a social liberal, to the dismay of my family and ancestors. However, even my bleeding heart is disgusted at the thought of fast food workers making $15 an hour for pulling a basket out of hot oil when the bell rings.

I understand everyone wants to make a living wage and I am socialist enough to feel that our well to do should be taxed so that we can temporarily subsidize those that cannot make enough money to feed their families. However, the operative word here is "temporarily".

Look, from day one fast food work has been for teenagers. They needed date money or car money, or for a housewife to make an extra few buck for the kid's college fund. But like social security, no one ever expected a person to make a career out of Chicken McNuggets.

So now these workers have united and are demanding the outrageous sum of $15 an hour. FIFTEEN dollars an hour! I dare you to find an college grad in a first time administrative position to be making that much. It's insane!

NPR was covering this issue today and the interviewer was grousing at the president of some fast food corporation association who made a very good point. The NPR interviewer, in an obvious attempt to vilify this man sneered "don't you think a person has the right to make a living wage?" The corporate guy (and the gods of the Liberal forgive me) made a great point. he said "We do not pay wages based on a person's needs, we base them on the work being done." Wow. I was impressed. He was dead on as far as I am concerned.  And for those of you ready to shoot me already, I think it works the other way too. I think, if you get paid based on the work being done, than teachers, firemen, child welfare agents, all these people need huge raises to equal the work they do.

But how did we get to this point? Did the economy become so permanently bad that people have to sling hash to pay the rent? At the risk of making a lot of enemies here, I am going to say that these people are not lacking opportunity (at least a good many of them, I cannot say 100%) they are lacking initiative. It is much easier to work fast food and collect government sublimities than it is to go back to school . Don't tell me some people cannot do that. Where there is a will there is a way, or a government program. You can always share rides, share babysitting, have room mates, but no one wants to do the hard stuff anymore.

When I was in my 20s I shared a house with 4 other people, a tiny house, shared a ride to a crappy job, but eventually I got a better place, a reliable (but not great) car and managed the shop I was in, and I am no workaholic, I am not even remotely exceptional in any way when it comes to the work force. This is not a walked-a-mile-in-the-snow-to-school sob story, this is to illustrate that if my dumb ass can do it anyone can.  Since when did the land of opportunity become the land of pay me what I wish for? The spokesperson on this NPR show for these workers who are suing was inarticulate, had an urban accent so thick I could hardly understand her, and gave no solutions, took no responsibility, just kept talking about how she was entitled to $15 an hour because she worked for a major corporation. I am sad to say that her manner of speaking is not uncommon among fast food employees and having worked in the human resources department  I can tell you without a doubt that woman's biggest obstacle to $15 is not her boss it is her lack of a basic education in speaking properly. Unfair? Probably. True? Absolutely. Life is not a cake walk friends. This is something she can fix, and relatively easily. When I say this people tell me these uneducated people cannot find the resources to get free GED help or classes that teach you to dress and to interview and speak properly. I am sorry but if they can work the system to get food and money subsidies they can figure out where to get these classes.(In many states you are offered these options regularly when you get your subsidies so you do not even have to look for them).

Go ahead and hate me. Call me all the horrible names you can think of, but just keep this in mind. Should a person be paid based on what they need or for the difficulty of the job they are doing? How do you think McDonald's makes all this profit? They were smart. They automated and dumbed- down the cooking and serving process so efficiently that anyone can do the job and therefore they do not have to pay a lot since only minimal skill and brains are required.

Okay so let us say you are stuck in fast food. Why not become the best employee there? Be the best at customer service, put together a hamburger the fastest and most beautifully. Make every order correct. Make the boss look at you and say "hmmm, this one is different". Perhaps you can make manager (a job with a difficulty level worthy of $15 an hour) or give you better hours so you can go to school. My basic point here is that once again I see people wanting something for nothing, or more for minimum. If you are trying and need a leg up, here, have a leg, it's on me. If you have a plan, a goal, or a handicap, I see this and I want my tax money to help you in any way to help yourself. But if you expect to live making hot ham and swiss burgers the rest of your days, forget it.

Give a man a fish, feed him for a day; teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime, or something like that.

So please, before you condemn me, put your PC hat on the shelf and think logically, both from the perspective of our economy (are you ready to pay five dollars for a 6 piece McNugget box?) and the individual. I do not think just giving them a raise like that is helping the person in the long run, which does not help their kids, their neighborhoods and, lets trickle UP for a change, our economy.

Now I need a Big Mac, all this talk is making me hungry.

The Great American Lie (Or At Least One of Them)

A friend of mine was a high level economist for the government. he was rich and lived in a big house in a rich suburb of Virginia. Eventually he took early retirement, telling people he wanted to take care of the house while his wife went back to school, but in reality he simply could not stand the lies and deceit this nation is founded on. This was the early 1980's. I was young and still had faith in our government, but I do recall him saying that the national debt was not to be worried about, it was  false number used by politicians to scare us and get votes.

Around the same time I new a woman who was so smart she as socially inept (think Big Bang Theory without the humor). She had multiple degrees in economics. I told her about my concerns with the deficit and she told methe same thing, that it is all smoke and mirrors, that ever since we went off the gold system it has all been play money anyway, and not to worry.

Well here is a video that explains all of this. I realize it is half an hour long and I really hate long videos, but it is well worth your time and I dont care how much you THINK you know about our financial system, this will open your eyes so please take te time when you can to watch this.

This one is much shorter but describes how wealth in this country is really distributed and if you think you know, if you think you grasp it, no you don't. Watch and learn friends.

Sirius

I guess I should clean the blood off the walls at some point. First we should probably dig the grave though.
We were going to bury the body in the far back of the yard but it was too damp once you dug so we decided that the area that is to be my "oasis" garden will be the spot.
 I can see my dog's freshly dug grave from my study window. The gaping maw with the requisite mound of dirt next to it foreshadows the end of our canine friend's life this afternoon. By tomorrow a tree will be buried over top of him. Magnolia, possibly crepe myrtle. Eventually there will be flowers and a bench, bushes and peace.
 I have never put a pet to sleep, never really lost a pet that was still part of my daily life. Cancer has stolen our friend and left us only with a shadow of who he was and with a terrible decision to make. Our vet was certain 2 weeks ago it was an infection, not cancer, but Friday the nurse gave Mark the biopsy report . With tears in his eyes, Mark turned away and left the room as he handed me the results. Stage V Lymphoma. With the hell that is chemo (so not an option we care to exercise) he will live maybe a few more painful, exhausting months, limbs growing weaker, blood seeping from his tumor riddled eyes. No, no, one last weekend to chase life and then we would let him go.
 I made the appointment this morning and we have dug the grave and made a stretcher to carry him out with. Everything is ready except of course us. I spent most of the night on the floor next to him. He is not interested in the bed or the sofa anymore so I did my best to comfort him on the ground but he was not interested. I think he is mostly animal now, Sirius our friend has departed already and what is left is an animal that only cares about rubbing his bloody, itchy eyes on my leg or the walls, and eating everything in sight due to the prednisone. This morning he was not even interested in food he would normally sell him mother for.
 And he growled at me. Never before has he done that. I have stepped on him, yelled at him, held him while he got shots, stuffed pills down his throat and never has he growled at me. Our friend is gone and what is left is walking cancer.
 It's hard to believe we only have 2 hours left with him when we have only had him 16 months. Dogs do not die of cancer at 16 months, but that is a whole different story.
 Mark is fully groomed and wearing his nicest casual clothes. I look like a rolled out of bed and haven't washed in a week. Not too far from the truth. I am dreading the time we drive there and have to hold him while we kill him.
I need to talk to him first though . I must tell him we love him, that it's okay to pass over, that we will miss him but will go on, and he must go on, to wherever it is that souls go. He must know he was a loyal, faithful, entertaining companion, a balm to Mark and his troubles, a warrior who protected us in sickness and in danger. I have to make him understand there never was nor ever will be another Sirius. I have to thank him for his service.
 I am not sure I have felt this scared and alone in a long time. Scared because I know that every second of this day will be etched in my brain forever, that all the other horrifying memories will have to move a seat down for these. I am mostly alone. In times like these we all do whatever we can just to cope and Mark and I tend to retreat to our corners during the worst of it. Later we will take to comforting each other. We can count on each other for that. 
Next step, to the vet. Sirius loves the car, always has. You open a car door near him and he is right there inside in a flash. He doesn't care if it's the beach or the vet, he's going out! This time his weak limbs couldn't make it into the car and with a howl of pain Mark had to pick him up to get him in the car. I think it  was then Mark realized how bad off he really was and how right it is that today is the day. The pain in Mark's eyes I saw in that moment I never want to see again. Our vet is a saint. He did everything in his power to save our Sirius. He consulted with many other vets, did lots of tests, researched different illnesses, lord knows he tried like it was his own dog.
So when he came into the back room where the euthanasia happens the concern and sadness on his face was real. Mark was smart enough to wear sunglasses while I just balled like a two year old. He told us what to expect and left us to say our final goodbyes. I made sure Sirius knew he was a good boy, the best dog Mark or I had ever had , and it was okay to leave us, we would miss him but he was to go where he belongs now. I wanted to beg him to come back if he could, even his spirit being better than nothing, but that's not where he is supposed to be right now. There has to be a reason why his life was cut so short. I believe there is a reason for everything. Damned if I can figure it out right now.
 The nurses came to inject a sedative into him. Doc said it would calm him down and make him "drunk" before the actual lethal injection. As I saw his eyes closing I was beginning to feel a small sense of relief. I knew in this state his pain and suffering were not as acute. Any relief for him was a relief for me. We sat on the floor with him for what seemed like an eternity that was too short. Two nurses and the doctor came in after that and we comforted our baby boy as we set him free. He gasped his last a few times, Mark wild eyed with grief and a sort of panic. He has had many dogs and he has always said Sirius was by far the best one he had. I didn't think my heart could break into smaller pieces until I looked at Mark's face.
 When Sirius was "gone" doc left us to prepare him for the trip home. I hugged his lifeless shell then, sucking out the last bit of Sirius' warmth I could get, trying desperately to burn that feeling into my mind. That, and how it felt to sit and talk to him, foreheads together, like we used to.
Mark sewed the shell that was Sirius into a canvas cloth, my twisted mind seeing him as a giant burrito. At this point Mark said "At sea this is where we push them over the side" and it hit me. The haircut, the clothes, the cologne, the canvas cloth...Mark was preparing him for a burial at sea, like he has done dozens of times before in his years as a sailor. At that moment I saw him through the eyes of a woman so in love, so blessed to have this man as her husband, that for that time Sirius was gone and I was with my Senior Chief, my brave hero. MY Mark.
 He and Doc took him via our makeshift stretcher to the car and we went home, but not before Doc asked how Jake was doing on the medicine he gave us (our cat) and reminding me to bring Maggie in to meet everyone (my puppy). Amazing man.
 We had a bit of road rage on the way, this selfish, horrible woman screaming some gibberish over and over at Mark, too busy swiveling her head around and jabbing her finger to hear Mark telling her his is going home to bury his dog. I hope she gets a flat in a neighbor filled with people as ugly inside as she is.
 By the time we got home the numbness had set in. Part of it was relief the ordeal was over, part of it was relief Sirius was no longer in pain, and part was simply sensory overload. We took turns filling in the hole but said no words over the grave. I think we had already said all there was to say at the vets and I don't think we had it in us to say any more.
 As we walked back to the house I looked down the length of our huge back yard. So empty without him. This is not right, He is supposed to be chasing lizards by the old shed, or running up and down the fence with George, his half brother next door. He is supposed to come running when he see Mark, his great paws sounding like Secretariat in the home stretch. This empty acreage was wrong. And I lost it. I cried all the dirt out of my soul right there on Mark's shirt. Cried and cried like a child. I didn't cry for Sirius. His suffering has ended. I cried because ours was just beginning.
 Goodbye Sirius. We have your tags. We have your hair. We have your pictures and movies and we even will have a tree for you. But we will never have another you. So now we have to allow ourselves to grieve. much as I hate it , it's the only way to get the poison out of our system, the only healthy, human way to react.
But I have to make it quick. I have an innocent little face named Maggie looking up at me with cockeyed ears and a tail going a mile a minute behind her. She needs me now. She will never be Sirius but then I wouldn't want her to be.

Jon Stewart Simplifies It All

Jon Stewart has a way of presenting the news in a humorous way that even us new-o-phobes can understand and no he is not super liberal, he is friends with and has as a guest Bill O'Reilly all the time. Watch and please watch the whole thing, it all wraps together nicely by the end.

Sirius

My dog is dying.

I keep a positive attitude, I swear I do. A million prayers, healings and buckets of positive energy have gone out to him from friends I don't even know, wonderful people who care about this stranger and her dog,  but I sit her daily and watch him wither away, a beautiful animal turning to bones before my eyes.

I am a fixer and a healer myself. I could supply anecdotes of what I have done that you would not believe, but the bulk of my healing has been through my knowledge of diseases and their cures, and my love of nurturing and healing those I care for. I am usually quite successful.

Today I am powerless.

I cannot heal my friend. I don't even know if holding him hurts him or comforts him. There is no more medicine I can give, no more energy I can saturate his being with, nothing that will stop the progression I am watching daily.

One of my best friends is dying and I sit here, impotent and frightened, afraid I am not doing all I can, afraid my sorry and fear is hurting him more.  I look into his gaunt eyes and the anger wells up in me,  anger at whatever god or higher power or whatever keeps these wheels turning would pile on yet more hurt in my life after everything I have endured in the past. I know a human or two who deserves a slow, withering death like my canine son , so why not them? Why my baby boy who has only enjoyed life with boundless energy for a year or so? He's a baby still for chrissake.

And the pain has tendrils too, little offshoots into other parts of my life. I feel guilt and sorrow towards my husband. I got him Sirius to replace his dog, the one his ex wife murdered.  And now that Sirius has turned into the perfect dog, has become his faithful companion, his best friend, now that its Man and Dog again, he is being ripped from him, just like his other dog was, and this beautiful man has already seen so much pain and hurt and anger and injustice that this, this is too much. Why I keep asking, why Sirius?

I have a new puppy. I got her when I was sure Siruis would survuve. I got her as a playmate for him, he loves other dogs so much. She is cute and sweet tempered and loves Sirius but part of me, this evil hateful part, it despises her for her energy, the life force that I want to snatch from her and inject into my Sirius. I sit and watch her, the beginnings of life, and him, the end, and the dichotomy is ripping my guts out.

My dog is dying.

Those of you who have had this happen know exactly what I am going through yet I feel completely alone. I don't know if is hope or wishful thinking or a protection of me or themselves but no one will agree with me so I am alone in my sorrow.  I wish the hope had not left, I really do. Hope is just an illusion we treat ourselves to so we can go on, but watching him all day, day in and day out, seeing him fade slowly before my eyes, how am I supposed to have hope? I have always been the kind of person who eventually loses the people and things she loves so why should Siruis be any different? Poor pitiful me. Everyone deserves a bout of self pity now and again.

I don't want other's pity. I don't want platitudes or Pollyanna attitudes, I don't want upbeat positive thinking. I want someone to hold me while I cry my soul out for my dying friend. I don't want to cry alone anymore.

And I want answers. Why does Mark have to lose another beloved friend? Why is such a sweet loving animal being tortured by a disease when there is plenty of evil in the world that deserves it much more?

I don't want to hear "the good die young". "God needs him now" "he will be in a better place" there's a reason for everything" I don't want to hear another bullshit saying from a bumper sticker, I just want my fucking dog back. Is that so hard?

My new puppy Maggie is a sweetheart and I know as she grows with the family she will become a precious part of it. I already love her very much. But her brown eye are too much like Sirius's and I know I will see him in there, at least in part, whenever I look at her sweet face.

I haven't had much death n my life, at least death of people I truly care for, and the animals I have had have either been lost to me through divorce  or by some other means, so I have never really had a pet die before and certainly Sirius is one of the best ones I have had. How do you deal? Am I over reacting? Should it feel like this, like my brother is dying?

The why won't it go away? And the helplessness. If he needed a kidney it  would be his, if he needed anything it would be his but only he can fight this now, he and the medicine that may be killing him as well, we really don't know for sure. Hell he may have cancer and all this hope and medicine is for nothing.

All I know it that by letting him run and play and be free I have allowed him to contract a rare and frequently fatal infection. It's my fault he is dying. How do I reconcile that with my son and my husband when he is gone (my daughter is not super attached to him). How do I tell them I am sorry? That he was having so much fun and is such a magnificent creature to watch play and hunt in the muck that I killed him by accident?  I dont think "whoops my bad" will suffice here.

As I type this I watch my 13 year old cat Chloe, the friend who has seem me though the worst times of my life, and I think how ironic it is. I have always though she would be the first pet I would mourn for. But I never felt like this about it. She has had a long and good life so if she were to go tomorrow the lame philosophies designed to comfort us would probably work, I am not a completely negative person.

And I also sit here and watch Maggie my puppy, still smaller than my fat ole cat Jake, I watch her as she sleeps at my feet, already attached to me at age 10 weeks. She will be a good dog, We will love her and she will be faithful and is already quite protective yet has a gentleness about her as well.

Sirius sleeps in his crate. He will sleep all day and perk up when Daddy gets home so no one believes me when I tell them how sick he is. He runs on conserved energy when around Mark, they are best friends and even in his sick state he has put himself on the line to protect us.

I do obits for all my friend's and family who lose pets. I know how they are human to us and part of the family and I hurt with them when they lose a pet.

Please up there, don't make me write one for own family.

The Sexes Pt. 2

***WARNING! EXPLICIT IDEAS AND LANGUAGE, NOT FOR KIDS***

I have been asking female friends what is important to them in a relationship and have picked the dozen most popular items. Guys this is for you. No judgment here, you do what you want but remember, our  love of sex is directly related to how we feel about you and ourselves.

1-Size does matter.Too big and its no fun. Too small and it's no fun. I don't need to give dimensions here,  if you fit either category you know who you are & have learned to compensate for it in other ways. If you  are not sure then you are fine, stop worrying about it. So yes, size matters but it works out so stop obsessing. We still enjoy it.

2-Stop telling us we look just as good without make-up. first, we know it's a lie. You either like us less or         more without it but it's not the same. We put a lot of money, time and effort into looking good and when you tell us it doesn't matter either way we lose motivation to look good and then you complain we let ourselves go. Admit it, you want us to look good, so say so, but DO let us know we are still attractive without make-up, even if not as much as with it, or tell us we look better but not the same. As for fat, always love us fat, even if you have to lie.

3-We know what you do. Yes, we do. You look at other women all the time. You think about sex with    them. You want to see or be in a 3-way. You want our sister/best friend. You fake orgasms and  know we do too. You watch/read porn...a lot....really. But you do worse things. You think we  look delicious but don't bother to tell us. You hesitate by the flower shop or the card store but  you keep walking.  You think about how much you love us at that moment but don't say it. See  the pattern? Think little things often, not big things occasionally. Little things are the best.

4-Do not hog the remote. You cannot imagine how much this annoys us. Not only do we feel "lucky" if we get to watch what we want to watch, but it is an overt power play on your part, some testosterone driven way of showing dominance over us and that really pisses us off.

5-NEVER tell us the following, even if we beg for honesty:

o   "You are not the prettiest girl I ever dated"

o   "You're being too emotional" or "It's just your period talking"

o   "She sure is hot"

o   "wow your sister /Mom/friend is hot"

o   "Your boobs are (too big, too small uneven...anything but perfect)"

o   "you are a good (cook, lover, shopper, massager) like my ex was"

o   how many sexual partners you have had and/or where we rank

6-We wonder 3 weeks prior if you will remember our birthday. Most anything else can be forgotten and           forgiven but not that...and your anniversary if you are married.

7-Never give her an important gift that looks like you picked it up at the last minute.  It doesn't matter   how expensive it is or if she even likes it but it has to look like you put thought into it. And if she  is not happy with thoughtful but inexpensive gifts  dump her, she is a bitch anyway. Small gifts mean the world. Guys you never do get this one. Pick us a flower. Grab those M&Ms we love at the check out. Surprise  us with a new spatula when we get mad our favorite one broke.  We  treasure these gifts more than anything because they show you are thinking about us, that you want us to smile, that you care. Again, if your GF is not like this she is a bitch, dump her.

                                               

8-Always defend your girlfriend/wife when someone is putting her down, hurting her  feelings, damaging her in any way. You don't have to pretend she is right when she is not, but   you do have to make her feel treasured and protected and guess what....YOU will feel great  about yourself when you do this. Chivalry is not dead, no matter how hard the 70's tried to kill  it.

9-Though this is number 9 this may be the most important one and the one you will have the hardest time mastering. Do not talk over top of us, ever ever ever. OK, knock down drag out fights sure,  scream at each other if you want but general conversation? Women are talked over by men in every part of society (I saw a male interviewer try to do that to Hilary Clinton!) and if you do  not do it she will notice and think you think she is the most important person in the world  to you. Men, do not under estimate the power of this one and the related number 10...

10-LISTEN to us. Okay? Do not HEAR us, listen to us. We know if you are or not. My husband is a rare     gem who has always listened to me and it makes me feel loved and respected and important. He will order pizza  with light sauce because he remembered I told him once sauce is not my thing.  He chose the white shirt over the yellow since he remembered I hate yellow...that my mother is a gardener, that in 9th grade I got beaten up...he listens to me like I listen to him and that  makes me feel precious.

11- Kiss us. Often. Well. Passionately. Like teenagers. We will be yours forever if we melt in your arms. You can do it, it's part of how you got us in the first place.

12- Find the common thread here. review these items and figure out what they all have in common. it's              really not that hard if you think about it.

The Sexes Pt. 1

NPR had a guest the other day who was born a man and spent 12 years teaching in a university before having  surgery to become a woman, after which he changed universities and taught as the woman he now is.

The point of the interview was to get the opinion of the way men and women are treated differently in society from someone who has experienced both worlds. The news was not good. As a man, students and teachers alike gave him much more respect , and more value was placed on his words and lectures than as a woman professor.  They even took more notes when he was a man teacher.

If you are a woman reading this I am sure you are not surprised, and if you are a man I do hope you are not rolling your eyes, telling us women we have it made and complain too much.

I usually let these things slide because I realize you cannot change a person's opinion on this issue. However, I now have a 16-year-old daughter (well ,step daughter but in my heart she and her brother are  mine) and this has become important to me. I want somehow to make her realize what the world is like without creating a man-hating, bitter bitch, as so many disillusioned  young women become. But most of all, I do not want her to fall into the "no boundaries" trap. Presently, the words "please" and "thank you" do not cross her lips enough, but as she gets older she may fall into the female trap of saying those words too much, along with apologizing for everything and always justifying her words or action if she thinks there is the slightest chance someone may disapprove. I know this sounds archaic, and many women are scoffing right now, saying we are strong and do not do that anymore but read the studies, there are dozens of them, stating that women still  believe their femininity is directly tied to how much they are liked, how little they rock the boat, and how emotional they are or aren't. Consequently we have 2 kinds of women: the ones I just described that, when taken to the extreme, are doormats, and the opposite, again extreme,the ball-busting feminists who hate men and any woman who wears a dress or heels. Most of us fall somewhere in-between but none of it is healthy.

It is my belief that many young women today do not know much about the plight we are in, and why should they? Pick up any history book and you will see, chapter after chapter, only a paragraph or two that includes women, and usually they simply describe their attire and their role as a homemaker, ignoring the family power dynamics because frankly it makes the men less than "kingly".

Here is the plain truth. Historically, women are the most consistently oppressed, abused and exploited humans on earth.  Some groups were enslaved by their own people. Some were treated relatively well (ancient Egypt) others savagely (America, both whites to blacks and Native Americans to Native Americans) but none, NONE on a nonstop, consistent basis like women were and are. Read that again, it is very important.

Now,  I could write a book on this topic. On how, while many cultures have been enslaved and abused, inside the master's home the females lived in quiet desperation. Certainly they had creature comforts, but their thoughts, opinions, feelings, ideas, dreams, indeed, their very humanity, were simply dismissed only because they were female and therefore were not as highly evolved as men.  Please don't misunderstand. I am not devaluing the horrors of slavery, whether it be Africans, Mexicans, Slavics (where the word "slave" derives from) or any group who was beaten and abused and had its freedom denied. I am saying there is silent suffering that goes on, and that has gone on, that refuses to be recognized where other groups of oppressed people have some sort f platform and are making progress, if more slowly than one would like. This silent oppression is particularly true for white women of European descent. Africans, Native Americans, even the Gypsy culture give women way more respect as equals (though not perfect) than European or American women.  And if you go far enough back you will see that most major religions were based on female deities.  Even in Christianity there is evidence in the unpublished books of the bible of the disciple Mary's influence on the group and as her power as a speaker and evangelical post resurrection. (Why do you think they are considered blasphemous?)

Read diaries by men from the beginning of time to say the 1960s and you will see this common thread running through them. Women were to be good mothers, child bearers(who were, during some eras, put to death if they did not bear a son, which we now know is the man's job), and were responsible for the running of the house. Female authors had to use masculine pen names in order to get published because a woman was thought too stupid to write, (and this goes on. Why do you think the author of the Harry Potter books is J.K. Rowling? The publishers were afraid her books would not sell if written by a female) even today ,only 18 women are CEOs of all the Fortune 500 companies...and THAT made big news because previously there were 16!  Women have always been blamed when they were raped or abused ,by stranger or husband. The few women who were recognized for their achievements in science or medicine were considered "masculine" or today "lesbians", as if you need to have some male attribute to be able to contribute meaningfully to society.

So let's jump to the good old days of the 1950's, where every pot had a chicken in it and the American economy was so good that post WWII women could quit their factory jobs and stay at home to raise the kids and keep the house. Utopia many say. Statistically? There was more depression, alcoholism and suicide among women during this time than ever recorded before (the first antidepressants came out in the late 1950s so the rate went down for women after that).  The more comfortable a man could make his wife the more social status he had, yet again, her opinions and feelings were considered frivolous and not to be taken seriously, to some degree or another. I am not saying this is a hard and fast rule, certainly there was equality in some marriages, I am talking trends and statistics here. Always there is an exception. Yet when push comes to shove, even today, most men pull the Man of the House card. Oh and those "feminine wiles" we are so famous for? It's called learning how to survive in a man's world, it is not some immature ploy to get a new bauble.

So the children of these depressed women grew up to be the hippies of the 60s and 70s - the bra burners. The protesters, free love, open sexuality, going back to work instead of being chained to the home. Equal at last. Really? Let's see. Who do you think benefits most from free swinging boobs and free love? The women  or the men?  How about working?  In 1969 women made 57 cents to every man's dollar for equal work.  By 1996 that figure had risen to 68 cents per every man's dollar and that was after legislation was passed to force wage equality!

 We still live by the double standard that if conflict arises the man is standing up for himself and is admired and the woman is being a bitch and probably has PMS...especially if she is coming out ahead in the conflict. So what has this "choice" done that we have? This choice to work or stay home (which is what "women's lib" was all about essentially, right?) has now created an economy where there is no more choice in most households. All things being equal, all recessions, politics and such aside, the fact is that by creating unnecessary two-income households we saw a huge jump in divorce and remarriage rates and, now that the economy has adjusted to this extra household income, we are forced to have two incomes ; economically 2 incomes is no longer a luxury it has become, by its very proliferation, mandatory.  Gone are the days where, if you had a good job you could afford a modest house,  a stay at home wife, a car and a couple kids. Now here is the rub. Even though women work the same hours as men and for less money AND in less prestigious careers, the woman is still expected to do all the cooking, cleaning and child rearing ,as she was when she did not work outside the home.  If you do not believe me google it, you will find more data than you can process supporting this. How many women out there have said a million times at 5pm "well, time to go home to my other job" and fall into bed five hours before she has to get up again, after folding the wash at 11pm that night?  This plight, of exhaustion , expectations and unappreciation is standard conversation among women, be they friends or strangers. As for husbands/significant others, their roles vary. Some share equally in the household chores (though I dare you to find a woman who has one of those and if she does she will tell you he feels he is "helping her out" instead of taking half the responsibility for the house and the kids himself, inferring that inherently it is her job)others expect you to  wait on them and don't even know where the dishes are in the kitchen, and of course everything in-between.

So let's take stock here. We have 52% of the world's population being treated unfairly by 48% of the remaining population. We have overworked, tired, unfulfilled women who have been raised by society to feel they have to work, raise kids, keep a home, host parties and do it all in heels and make-up and be happy about it all. The reality is we have unfulfilled, resentful, exhausted working mothers who also are expected to always be friendly, say "yes" to every request, put themselves last and say "please", "thank you" and "sorry" way too often.  Currently, we are expected to work outside the home, expected to run everything  and basically expected to do both jobs...homemaker and career woman...that 30 years ago was presented as a choice of one or the other. Oh I forgot to mention we all have to look 20 years younger than we are and weigh 30 pounds less than we do

 I do not blame men for most of this. These unrealistic expectations are created and perpetuated by WOMEN. Yes ladies, I blame US for this.  Men are quite simple and easy to read. Either they want you to stay home, they want you to work, they want you to do whichever you want to do, or they want you to do both. Now the ones that want both had better be helping out big time, but in general you do not see men forcing us women to do things we think are expected of our gender. WE demand we weight 120 pounds, WE demand we are mother of the year and have a career at the same time. WE do not set boundaries in our lives, take care of ourselves first (which every man and child does naturally). Cosmopolitan Magazine, in my opinion, is the most damaging publication for women ever created. Next time you get a chance to read a copy, if you are a woman,  I dare you not to feel completely  inadequate in bed, at the office, in the kitchen, hell at anything for that matter. Its women based ideas and publications/media that are loading us up with these unrealistic expectations. Consequently, because we are expected to do it all and do it all well, we either excel at one thing and the rest gets left by the wayside or we try to juggle everything equally and nothing is done right. It is humanly impossible to live up to what society (read our female peer group) expects of us so we feel inadequate, unworthy, less-than...you name it. There is a reason that  3/4 of  prescribed antidepressants and tranquilizers  in America are for women, and this doesn't include those that self medicate with alcohol or illegal drugs only.

So what is the answer here? I don't know, if it were that easy it would have been done, but I do have some ideas.

First, let's ask our men, be they spouse, lover, brother, father, boss or friend...what really do you want? Be specific. think of it as a sociological experiment. My guess is that they will tell you they want  the women around them to be happy, to be fulfilled, to be loving  yet strong, the yin to their yang, all of which come naturally to us. They don't want an exhausted bitchy female.

Then let's get off each other's cases. Most men I know like me way better with a curvy figure than when I was Twiggy, yet every woman I know thinks I am fat. Most men not only don't care if the house is not immaculate, they don't even notice, yet Nosy Neighbor comes over and she will see any tiny crevice dirt. We are doing this to ourselves at this point ladies, and until we stop the competing, stop the judging and the coveting, we cannot begin the transformation that men need to understand where we are coming from and how to please us, which they want to do way more than we give them credit for.

Also, set boundaries. Say yes when you mean it and no if you don't. Do not allow anyone to make you uncomfortable in any way or guilt you into social obligations if you do not want to participate. This is your life, who cares if everyone doesn't adore you, yet consequently more will if you have set limits. Men live like this and are respected for it and if we stop apologizing for breathing or for asking for extra dressing on the side we too will be respected for it, but until we all set limits and boundaries and praise each other for it than we are doomed. The sad thing is I hear the word "bitch" come out of a woman's mouth way more often than out of a man's.

I was hoping that by the time I hit this age I would not be talked over by a man, not have PMS tossed at me when I am angry, not be dismissed or ridiculed when I speak to a man of matters which are over his head just to save his ego, but it still happens.

So back to where I started. How do I teach these things to my daughter? My only answer to that is by example and perhaps if we all teach our children by example not only will they have less Zanax in their cabinets, but maybe we will too.

My Real Life Ghost Hunt

my photo from the Charleston Dungeon tour
This week I was fortunate enough to be on vacation with my dear friends Dawn and her husband Bill (I changed their names to keep their privacy).

 Dawn is a psychic and has been on about every ghost tour around. She and Bill invited us to go on vacation with them this year and we chose Charleston, SC. Besides the normal shopping and dining out we took a few ghost tours and paid to be part of a ghost hunt.

Before the ghost hunt (which was from midnight to 2AM) we took the regular tour to get an idea of the history of the place. Google Old Charleston Jail for more information, but suffice to say this is a very bad place, whether you believe in ghosts or not. To begin with, the entire city of Charleston is built over dead people. They just dumped bodies for hundreds of years into the water and then eventually dredged up the dirt from the river and built on it. Occasionally they even find bones during construction. But as far as the jail goes, in a nut shell, it was used to house local criminals, civil war prisoners and runaway slaves (to be punished severely for their "crime"). This was not a place of rehabilitation, this was a place of torture and death. If you went to this jail you went there to die.

If you are ever in Charleston I highly recommend you go to Bulldog Tours and ask for Braxton to be your guild. He is a writer and actor so he tells a fabulous story and is very knowledgeable about the area. Smart and nerdy, I of course panted at his heels the whole time.

The tour was interesting. It was dark and flashlights were needed as the steps were not even and the place is metal on the inside with many odd corners and ironwork. Not your typical jail, most of it is made up of rooms instead of small cells. You may have seen it since every ghost show on TV has investigated it and deemed it haunted. Use of ghost hunting equipment and cameras were encouraged and Braxton brought and EMF detector.

After the tour, the 11 of us who had paid extra for the hunt stayed behind. Braxton took us to one room and pulled out his EMF detector. For those that do not know, this stands for Electromagnetic Field. All electric wires give off this field, at least the older ones, and the device is used to find major leaks in homes which can have physical effects on people. For ghost hunting purposes, after determining there are no EMF sources in the vicinity, they are used to communicate with spirits. No one knows exactly how, but the spirits can make the lights blink on these detectors, so you can have a real time yes and no question and answer session with them. If you have ever watched a ghost hunting show you know what they are but to see one in real life and watch it answer your questions, well that is a completely different thing. The only other equipment there was a tape recorder our friends had brought. I await their full results, though I did hear a response on playback right there on the spot (it was very short but clear and I cannot recall what it said but nothing nefarious). I had a camera and got a lot of "orbs" but since I do not believe orbs are anything but dust or bugs then I have to report I got nothing on film.

Back to real-time hunting. After the initial talk, Braxton told us we could split up into groups. Anyone who knows me knows this was my queue to boogie out and away from everyone else as fast as I could. I went up and down halls and through doors, around corners and into dead ends. Mark was with me most of the time and though I "felt" nothing, he felt quite uneasy and queasy, something we would find out later 3 others felt as well.

At one point another "hunter' popped out of nowhere (and scared the bejeebers out of me). He was lost and looked scared so I invited him to join me and Mark, where shortly after we found the best room in the place...the one with the air conditioning! I live in Florida and I will tell you my time in Charleston was miserable as far as the weather goes, even for a Floridian. Hot, sticky, not a breeze to be found, how anyone in colonial times wore layers and layers of clothing is beyond me. No wonder they all fainted!

As we sat there cooling off the door creaked open and it was Braxton, requesting we rejoin the group. I recall him taking us to a room where people were severely tortured. Ropes hung from the ceiling and you were tied to them and whipped mercilessly, each slap of the whip slicing through your skin to the flesh. Whipping is not like you see on TV, where a bit of blood oozes out, it is a brutal practice and most who are doomed to "40 lashes" do not survive it. While in this room I felt a profound sadness so I left the room but that did not help, it got worse and I felt the entire weight of the place emotionally on me, like I was drowning in the sorrow. I did not get a sense of hate or evil or anger there (though there are known psychopaths who died there) I only felt the sadness and desperation of the people who were once there. I actually began to cry a bit. Being alone was not helping so I made my way back to the group who were still in this room. They were doing an EVP "session" and each time the lights on the device went on I felt a mild breeze pass by me where I had found a comfy spot in the doorway. Not your typical cold spot, but like someone passing by me very closely, yet no one was there. It was then that I noticed an open window so I had to dismiss the breeze. My personal rule for ghost hunting states that if there is any possible natural explanation, no matter how remote, that is the one you must go with. Yet it till kept happening...the lights went on on the EMF and I felt this breeze at the same time. I followed it out the door. I followed it a few feet down the hall. It was very dark but I did not want to scare it away with my flashlight. Farther and farther down the empty dark hall I meandered, following this fleeting breeze and hearing the voices of the group grow fainter as I made my way to the belly of the building. I have never been afraid of ghosts (I have encountered spirits before) but I have never felt compelled like I did here. The next thing I know Braxton is hollering down the hall at me, "Where are you going?" Guiltily, I told him I was following this breeze and he replied," Please come back. It has been known to do this. It is luring you away from the group. It is trying to isolate you. Come back in here with us". This started me out of a mild trance I did not realize I was in and I scooted back to the group, cursing the crafty spirit, and myself, under my breath. I know better than this! When I got back to the room Mark was leaning over, ashen, and said he felt the nausea again.

Later in  the tour, Dawn was sitting on the steps (she was having back pains the whole week so she had to sit once in a while) and as we were doing more EVPs she cried out "stop touching me!" and told our shocked faces that something was tugging on her shirt.

After some very interesting (but horrifying and sad) history,  many cool spots (we would enter a room and there would be a cold spot that immediately left as soon as we got there) the tour was over. I asked Bill if he felt anything but he refused to talk about it. I did not push him but the next day he offered his experience...at one point he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, enough to double him over. Bill is a brave man in my book. If that would have happened to me I would have been out of there! After the tour, while comparing notes, there were several people who, during the hunt, were fine but then would suddenly get a chill accompanied by a creepy feeling, like they were being watched or followed, and at least 3 others besides Mark were ill, a common occurrence when there is a nasty spirit present.

A real ghost hunt is a bit different than I had expected. For one, I thought we would have frightened people, or even hyper vigilant ones, but everyone was calm and tried to be as cooperative as they could. At the end while in the courtyard a cute couple came up, the girl had to be under 20, and she got all wide eyed and amazed when she realized we had done the ghost hunt, saying she would never be able to do that. I think she could. When you are with a group and you have a guide you can have faith in, even the biggest chicken would feel safe I believe. It is also different from the "professionals" in other ways. Professionals are part of a team, a group who is used to working together, whereas we were just a rag tag group who all happened to pay for the same hunt. Therefore, people whispered during the EVP sessions (Electronic Voice Phenomena) so the recordings are practically useless, and everyone who took a photo of an "orb" did not realize it was dust (orbs are actually very rare and look nothing like what most of us know as orbs, which are really just close ups of dust particles lit up by the flash). In a real hunt you also cannot have others just meandering around the place because they will contaminate your evidence. At the least, if you do have wanderers you should have some means of communication with each other.

This ghost hunt was five days ago and I spoke to Dawn yesterday. She asked me why I left my body wash in the bathroom...which I did NOT do. I specifically recall emptying out that entire closet and this was a big bottle, I could not have over looked it. Yet there it was, in her cabinet, in a position I never would have left it in, and anyway I am sure I packed it . She said that things have been disappearing and reappearing in odd places since all these tours we took. Usually that can be chalked up to forgetfulness but when you find your keys in the oven and you don't have Alzheimer's it does make one wonder....

If you find yourself in the Charleston area do yourself a favor and book a Bulldog tour and ask that Braxton Williams be your guide. You will have a wonderful time and see Old Charleston in a new light. I went on The Haunted Jail Tour and the Jail Ghost Hunt and the Ghost and Dungeon Walking Tour but I have heard all but the Dark Side of Charleston are good (and the Cemetery tour only shows one cemetery). Please check out their website, if nothing else the writing is a hoot. http://bulldogtours.com/. Oh and please tip your guide.

The Beauty of Simplicity and The Car You Are Sick Of Hearing About

First I have to introduce you to Ginger. She is my new 2009 Mazda Miata. Ginger says Zoom Zoom.

Anyone who has known me for a while knows I fell in love with the Miata at first sight in 1991. I finally was able to buy one in about 2000 but had to sell it shortly after that. My wonderful husband has helped me to buy this one, fully loaded with a Bose stereo system, heated leather seats, canvas top, and the upgraded suspension package. Basically if it is available for this car it  has it. She  does not feel like the rickety damp hummingbird my old was. This is a comfortable, sleek racing machine and since I have never had so much as a parking ticket in my life I think its about time I took my chances.

Mark is building a small house in the back that he is calling a shed. This will hold all the junk in the "basement"so that Ryan (his son who is 21) can have a place to sleep, Mark can have his pool/ping pong table, Miranda can have her friends sleep over on the huge couches and I can have my laundry area and some decent storage. This will basically double the size of our house.

We borrowed Ryan's pick-up truck to haul lumber from Home Depot (though I prefer Lowes, I hate the color orange) and once I mounted the thing like a mighty steed, I found some tell tale signs of what Life As Ryan is like. I call it:

YOU MIGHT BE A REDNECK IF...

You own a pick-up. Period.

This pick up requires a ladder, a stepping stool or you to be under 40 to be able to gracefully board it.

...your dash is decorated with your baseball cap collection.

...Your console looks like this:

...and Carrie Underwood's song applies to it.

At first this was all quite funny to me. Ryan certainly fits your stereotypical redneck from Florida. But the more I was in the truck the more I thought about Ryan and the more I started to envy him.

Ryan is at an age now where he is truly on the cusp of manhood and teenagerville, a place most of us navigate poorly or never really do at all. But Ryan is different. Ryan knows who he is. He knows what he likes. He knows what he believes in and has the courage  to stand up for those beliefs. He and I do not see eye to eye on many issues, but his beliefs are so pure they command respect. He is who he is and if you don't like it then you don't have to be part of his life. This all coming from a person who is 21 years old. I know many 50 year olds who have not reached this level of self acceptance. He has his friends and his interests. He has his hobbies and he enjoys his work, which he labors at at a pace I could not have managed even at his age. He pays his bills and he is honest...when it counts (come on he IS 21 still). He respects his parents, the country, and the women, family or friend, he loves. Riding in that truck I realized that Ryan is a simple man. Not dumb, oh no, not by a long shot, but he has a simple life and it suits him.

After a while some questions came to mind. Think about your life. Do you know who you are? Can you list your true friends? Do you know your passions and do you go after them? Do you live your life for yourself and everyone else be damned? Do you have a code of ethics you are proud of and that you uphold? These are not easy things to accomplish, yet Ryan had managed to do it before he was legally an adult. Have you? Maybe its not the antidepressants, alcohol or tranquilizers we need, its simply to live more genuinely.

So yes, he is redneck and I will always have a blast poking fun at him about it, but my sense of self is not as developed as his, I cannot count true friends on more than one hand, and at times I care too damn much what others think of me, and I am almost as old as his mother!

The next time you run across a person who fits a stereotype to a tee just remember that the cliches they represent come from being who they want to be, and if that means country music, chewing tobacco, cowboy boots and a HUGE truck, so be it. 

Tonight he is having a bar-b-que with some close friends, probably around the bonfire in the back yard. They will drink beer from a bottle and probably get around to talking about last year's deer season and listening to some country classics...and all of them will be nourishing their souls on a level I am not true enough to myself to come close to.

You are a good person Ryan. Your father is proud of you, I love you like my own son and you are turning into a fine man (though you should be nicer to your sister, she worships the ground you walk on you know. And running water  over your dirty dishes wouldn't be too bad an idea either, oh and those greasy uniforms......)

Another New Era Begins

Seems people's opinions on liberals and conservatives are pretty well entrenched these days. Personally, I blame the media for creating 3 types of Americans.

On one extreme we have the liberals. Liberals are thought, by conservatives, to be nothing but lazy, good-for-nothings who are too stupid or high to care about the fact that the constitution is being ripped up right in front of their eyes. Liberals have no respect for anything, are all Atheists, which of course makes them evil, want to take all our guns away, and are going to be the downfall of this nation. These ideas, plus the fact the Old White Guard sees its days numbered, have many extreme conservatives stockpiling guns and Spam and building fortresses in Wyoming.

Then you have the other side, the conservatives. To liberals, conserves have no humanity in them. They are money grubbing old white bastards, richer than Americans  should be allowed to be and would not give their own mother a dollar for a loaf of bread if she were starving. They all go to church and believe Adam and Eve rode dinosaurs when the earth was formed 6000 years ago, that Christ is coming soon and the liberals are destroying our freedoms. They cannot say anything without using one of the following words: freedom, America, God, constitution, entitlements. The real words they want to say are forbidden (we are all mortified because there is a black man in the white house...shhhhh).

 Liberals see these extreme conservatives as pitiful , ignorant and paranoid Fox news zombies if they are poor, and scheming world dominators who hate anyone who is not Christian, male, white, straight and rich. "Let them die, it will decrease the surplus population" said the most famous of all extremists, Ebenezer Scrooge.

Then we have the last group who, to me, are the worst group of all. They are the bulk of the rest of America, the truly disenfranchised. They fit in neither extremist category, but because excess sells, the news media only presents the interesting fart left and far right. These middle of the roaders have nowhere to go. They trust no one in the government even though they desperately want to. But they all seem to have very strong opinions on things, yet have no idea what is going on in the world. The news bores them, or scares them, or they do not understand it, so they simply ignore it but ah, bring up any type of current event and they will talk you ear off on the subject they know nothing about. Oh and they are the first to bitch about their representatives or the president but refuse to set foot in a voting booth.

Today I watched Barack Obama be sworn in for a second term. I did not think there would be much of a turn out. I did not think people would care much, or even bother to watch it on TV or listen to it on the radio. After all, the exciting parts are over. We elected our first African-American president 4 years ago and re-elected him 2 months ago so the thrill is kind of gone. But not for me. I wanted to see it again. I wanted to recapture that feeling of hope, and progress and change, all those things Obama so artfully pulls out of me and yes, I do still have faith in him, and even if he ends up failing and going down as the worst president we ever had,  just the fact that we elected him , TWICE, speaks volumes about where our nation is really headed...hopeful and strong into the future.

I am sure liberals to all degrees, including myself, were joyous for many reasons today. Some to celebrate that we again elected a black president, that Rosa Parks and Frederick Douglass would be proud as hell, that Americans  can embrace change, we can get rid of the old guard and, if for none of those lofty reason, we can officially thumb our noses at the conservatives and their extremist band of crazies.

My first impression when I turned on the TV, was of a bland second term swearing in. But wait. I looked around and Washington DC was packed full (over a million I heard later on) of people, all bundled up in coats and scarves, little children in mittens and Hello Kitty knit hats. I saw elderly black women cry as Obama spoke, I saw hope in a young white woman's eyes, I saw a small freckle faced red headed girl waving her flag and smiling, almost as if the good feelings there had overcome her (she was obviously too young to know what was going on). And I looked at her face and I saw our future there, just for a moment and I was inspired. When it was over I wished more people had seen it.

 

I headed out to Target shortly after that. I got out of my parked car and the very first thing I saw, I kid you not, was  a man in an Obama/Biden tee shirt. Then I saw a teenager in an Obama tee shirt. When I got into the building I began shopping an overheard a woman on her cell phone talking about how Michelle may not be the snappiest dresser but at least she dresses for herself and not for all of Washington. I heard another person on the phone breaking down Obama's speech, almost like he had it memorized. Then and elderly white woman passed me in what looked like a very expensive sweat shirt, machine embroidered with the presidential seal and Obama's full name around it. I was astounded. This WAS a big deal after all. All the pundits said fans of Obama the first time around were now disappointed, had lost hope, were angry and felt cheated but what I felt today, what I saw today, was just the opposite. I saw that same hope, I saw people excited and happy and looking toward a bright future. I didn't see apathy as I had expected (and I imagine if I were not at a store like Target and in a store like Neiman Marcus I would have seen people crying and carrying signs that this marks the end of the world...like it was supposed to do the first time he was elected...hmmm...).

I guess my point in this is that yes, Since Obama was first elected things have gone nutty in this country, both among the citizenry and among the politicians. Yes there is great fear, of what I do not know, but my guess is it all boils down to a fear of change. But fearing change comes naturally to humans. What doesn't come naturally to us is embracing that change despite the fear. It is not natural for humans to see the future they want and make it happen, regardless of what others say or think. We do not dare tread where others have not, it is not safe, it is not prudent. ...Unless you are an American.  If you rise up above all the fear, the fighting, the horrible name calling. If you look past the lunacy of threats of secession and the nation crumbling and civil war. If you look past our elected officials acting in such childish and spiteful ways these past four years, and of family members pitted against each other over ideas and ideals that never came to fruition. Rise above it and look down. What do you see? We are still here. We still voted our hearts. We kept the faith. We had a peaceful transfer of power. We are still a nation. We are strong, we are proud, we are the U.S.A. and today we took another step into the future, we elected our African American president for the second time, with hopes and dreams still intact and THAT my friends is what has built this nation and will keep her going and THAT is why after the ceremony, after the people in Target, I sat in the parking lot and wept.