I grew up a child of the Seventies: Supergroups on the radio and sit-coms on the television. If Aaron Spelling liked it, you liked it too. Bell-bottoms, headbands, afros, peace signs, and flowers adorned everyone--and by everyone, I mean TV was inclusive in those days. For every Archie Bunker, there was a Lionel Jefferson. For every Mr. Grant, there was a Maude. Things evened out in prime time TV America then.
I'd like to think it was because we all got along and whistled "Hi-Ho", arms linked, as we went in to work every Monday morning. When compared with the climate today, that's even believable. But what is a more likely scenario, or at least one we should ponder, is that it made us feel better.
White America could have their JJ, Thelma, and Michael and not feel guilty that the real estate agent promised those folks would never live next door. Men could laugh with Maude, then go into the office and pay the women the same salary year after year while promoting the younger, less experienced men to management positions. The majority had safety in their numbers with a clear path and smooth sailing.
Then came the election of President Obama, and the realization--if they hadn't known it before--that their long-standing paradigm had shifted. Chico was now The Man. George Jefferson could take you to the cleaners if he wanted to. Maude was pissed.
And today's fear-mongers know it. They might as well shout "The world is getting smaller" on the Fox or at least on Glenn Beck's radio show. They can willingly tap into the psyche of the old folks, now down on their health and nearly out of money, and get them to blame the brown people, or the immigrants, or the women, or the youth, or whoever else has taken away their dreams of retirement. (It was the banks and Bain, but whatever.) "Blame the gays!" seems to be the rallying cry from a fair number of North Carolina pulpits these days.
Everyone fears change. Psychiatrists have long held that deaths and dissolutions of relationships are the most stressful events we encounter. Change can suck, but it doesn't have to. (Those of you who are parents know what I mean.)
I say if we went back to the days when Archie could spew his hate to a laugh track, we'd be better off--his insanity would be in context, with the paranoia obvious. (It wouldn't pass for "news" like it does these days.) And, as President just taught us by supporting Marriage Equality, everyone needs a good example.
Let's put some good and bad examples on the sits-coms again. Let's stop being PC and playing it safe--look at all those old, white men in Congress, you call that safe? We embraced many types of characters back then--stereotypically in some instances, and I wouldn't want that--think The Cosby Show rather than Good Times. Think George Lopes rather than Chico and the Man. And since we've jumped ahead to the Eighties and Nineties with the analogy, think Barney Miller if you like, but Reno 9-1-1 is still hilarious.
The revolution happens when we talk together, laugh and cry together--not when we pretend each other doesn't exist. I wouldn't want somebody to think that because I was raised in the South, I'm a caricature from "Carter Country"; I'd want them to get to know me, then together we could laugh at the show if we chose to. Because I work from home I wouldn't choose to be taken for June Cleaver, but I also don't mind making a pie whenever asked. We're all so much more complicated, so much more interesting than our single, publicly-displayed dimension.
TV can do that. TV is a magic box of wonder that can do anything! The prophet Tom Snyder called it a "colortini" which swirled images around for our amusement.
I hope the revolution gets televised again. I'll get my martini glass ready just in case. Then I'll be at the ready with, "I'll have what Snyder's having!"
Monday, May 28, 2012
They Don't Make Elephants Like Eisenhower Anymore
I've been gone for a while, off slaying various dragons--ending the school year, attempting to best an upper respiratory infection and the accompanying fever, and errant gardening here and there--and though I've battled with this particular serpent in past posts, I believe he still lies coiled and strong, waiting to reign over us with fire and, dare I say it, ennui.
And while he has committed many crimes against us, the first with which I'd like to dispatch is the sin of thievery as he has stolen four of the kingdom's sacred symbols: The American Flag, plus signs, tea, and the letter W. I'd like these to be wrested from their foul perches in your lair, oh evil one, and returned to the union of people post-haste. (And those of us who were great fans of "Northern Exposure" would like Janine Turner back, as well.)
And then there's the lying. But here we run smack into a thicket of burning Bushes because it seems that while it is A-OK to lie about WMD to "create jobs" and put Halliburton to work building things, it is foolish, naive, and downright unAmerican to suggest that we ask scientists to declare an imminent alien invasion so we could build high-speed rail and other necessities of infrastructure in order to put people back to work. (Paul Krugman doesn't even kill anyone with his little subterfuge.)
Cheating? Well now we've really gotten into the weeds. You see cheating doesn't seem to have a meaning anymore, or at least not one definition which applies to everyone. For example, let's say you're an immigrant kid who came to this country by whatever means and for whatever reasons, got an education or served in the military, and now you just want to be a citizen. (Sounds like you've already been one.) You sir or ma'am are a cheater! You just want to leech off of our "free economy"--that's the new, nicer name for the "free market" in case you haven't noticed--so you can have your little "Dream Act". You should look to our giants of industry like Eduardo Saverin, one of Facebook's co-founders, who came to this country for his safety and left for his money's safety. (Fifteen percent of a fortune is still a fortune after all.)
Of course the worst kind of cheating is when you cheat by lying AND stealing which I believe is also called the "free economy", that is if the labor is free and the economy is held by only those who know what to do with what we earned. We are, after all, paying THEM all our monies to tell us how to live: Here's my pension, my monthly budget, my contraceptive plan, now judge me please. It's a modern-day "company store" where the migrant immigrants are trapped in slavery, indentured servitude at best. And you don't have to change a lot of letters to go from Confederate to Corporate. The Man who wants to be in the Big House puts it this way:
*Cliques are cool but unions are bad
*It's only worth what someone will give you for it
*Do as much as you can with as little as possible, then splurge with the profits
*The winners are mine, the losers are yours
*Investment is a wonderful thing unless the government's doing it
In short, they just don't make elephants like Eisenhower anymore. Remember that old interstate highway system scheme? How'd that work out for us? Then there was that radical socialist Lincoln with his transcontinental railroad. What a tool! Today's Republicans won't fall for those follies, no, they will give us our "trans" right where we need it. In our hoo-hoos! Transvaginal probes for the lot of you!
And the rabble did rouse. Why? They figured something out: We don't need THEM, they need US. They cannot run their factories without us. They cannot get to work on time without us. They cannot clothe their bodies without us. They cannot take a poo without the toilets we made and the water mains we built and the sewage treatment plants we installed. Without the 99%, the 1% would not only be full of it, they'd be covered in it. And we need to remember to remind them of that. (They do need a lot of reminding of course, poor things think 60 is a simple majority.)
So don't let the Greedy Dragon get you down. No matter who or where you are, you can do something to make a difference. You can talk to your neighbors, you can talk to the school board, and if you're like me, you can talk to the cans in the grocery store aisle. (You can do it with the cell phone to your head if you're insanity-shy.) You can go to meetings and gatherings of like-minded or not like-minded people. You can sign online petitions. You can email your representatives at all levels. You can act up or act out or act sweet--just act.
I wonder what Maggie O'Connell would've done had her hostess not been taken over by the dark side? Here she was, a strong single gal in a backwater Alaska town founded by two lesbians and full of free-spirited people. I know what she would've done back in the day, but now that she's gone all right-wing and Fox-y--I suppose she'd just pull a K Street "The Family"-style apology by whipping out the old Jesus Etch-a-Sketch: "Oops"--as Ricky P said--that never happened, I'm forgiven, look there's Elvis! And like that, it's gone.
Poor Maggie, I guess she's trying to fit into the current craze and be relevant again. Heck, Sugar, you didn't need to go on the TV or put out your Jesus Yoga video, you were needed already what with all that transvaginal probing to be done. She was a bush pilot, you know.
And while he has committed many crimes against us, the first with which I'd like to dispatch is the sin of thievery as he has stolen four of the kingdom's sacred symbols: The American Flag, plus signs, tea, and the letter W. I'd like these to be wrested from their foul perches in your lair, oh evil one, and returned to the union of people post-haste. (And those of us who were great fans of "Northern Exposure" would like Janine Turner back, as well.)
And then there's the lying. But here we run smack into a thicket of burning Bushes because it seems that while it is A-OK to lie about WMD to "create jobs" and put Halliburton to work building things, it is foolish, naive, and downright unAmerican to suggest that we ask scientists to declare an imminent alien invasion so we could build high-speed rail and other necessities of infrastructure in order to put people back to work. (Paul Krugman doesn't even kill anyone with his little subterfuge.)
Cheating? Well now we've really gotten into the weeds. You see cheating doesn't seem to have a meaning anymore, or at least not one definition which applies to everyone. For example, let's say you're an immigrant kid who came to this country by whatever means and for whatever reasons, got an education or served in the military, and now you just want to be a citizen. (Sounds like you've already been one.) You sir or ma'am are a cheater! You just want to leech off of our "free economy"--that's the new, nicer name for the "free market" in case you haven't noticed--so you can have your little "Dream Act". You should look to our giants of industry like Eduardo Saverin, one of Facebook's co-founders, who came to this country for his safety and left for his money's safety. (Fifteen percent of a fortune is still a fortune after all.)
Of course the worst kind of cheating is when you cheat by lying AND stealing which I believe is also called the "free economy", that is if the labor is free and the economy is held by only those who know what to do with what we earned. We are, after all, paying THEM all our monies to tell us how to live: Here's my pension, my monthly budget, my contraceptive plan, now judge me please. It's a modern-day "company store" where the migrant immigrants are trapped in slavery, indentured servitude at best. And you don't have to change a lot of letters to go from Confederate to Corporate. The Man who wants to be in the Big House puts it this way:
*Cliques are cool but unions are bad
*It's only worth what someone will give you for it
*Do as much as you can with as little as possible, then splurge with the profits
*The winners are mine, the losers are yours
*Investment is a wonderful thing unless the government's doing it
In short, they just don't make elephants like Eisenhower anymore. Remember that old interstate highway system scheme? How'd that work out for us? Then there was that radical socialist Lincoln with his transcontinental railroad. What a tool! Today's Republicans won't fall for those follies, no, they will give us our "trans" right where we need it. In our hoo-hoos! Transvaginal probes for the lot of you!
And the rabble did rouse. Why? They figured something out: We don't need THEM, they need US. They cannot run their factories without us. They cannot get to work on time without us. They cannot clothe their bodies without us. They cannot take a poo without the toilets we made and the water mains we built and the sewage treatment plants we installed. Without the 99%, the 1% would not only be full of it, they'd be covered in it. And we need to remember to remind them of that. (They do need a lot of reminding of course, poor things think 60 is a simple majority.)
So don't let the Greedy Dragon get you down. No matter who or where you are, you can do something to make a difference. You can talk to your neighbors, you can talk to the school board, and if you're like me, you can talk to the cans in the grocery store aisle. (You can do it with the cell phone to your head if you're insanity-shy.) You can go to meetings and gatherings of like-minded or not like-minded people. You can sign online petitions. You can email your representatives at all levels. You can act up or act out or act sweet--just act.
I wonder what Maggie O'Connell would've done had her hostess not been taken over by the dark side? Here she was, a strong single gal in a backwater Alaska town founded by two lesbians and full of free-spirited people. I know what she would've done back in the day, but now that she's gone all right-wing and Fox-y--I suppose she'd just pull a K Street "The Family"-style apology by whipping out the old Jesus Etch-a-Sketch: "Oops"--as Ricky P said--that never happened, I'm forgiven, look there's Elvis! And like that, it's gone.
Poor Maggie, I guess she's trying to fit into the current craze and be relevant again. Heck, Sugar, you didn't need to go on the TV or put out your Jesus Yoga video, you were needed already what with all that transvaginal probing to be done. She was a bush pilot, you know.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The Hippies Were Right: A Romney Administration
As the Prophet Peter Sellers said, as President Murky Muffley in "Dr. Strangelove": Look, I'm capable of being just as sorry as you, Dmitri." And I am. I can be really sorry--sorry sight, sorry attitude, sorry excuse for a...you get the idea. But I'm not an empathy-deficient assmonkey, preying upon the voiceless while giggling all the way to the bank.
That's a job for Jamie Dimon, ALEC, the Koch Brothers, CrossRoads GPS, American CrossRoads, Fox News, and a ton of elected Republicans. (And the worst homage of "The Avengers" EH-ver!) They're more like an ARMEY of ROVErs, winging it to the Right-- always the Right--searching for little mice to snatch from the ever-shrinking field of Middle Class America. (See what I did there with the whole "vulture capitalist" thingy?)
And as their lack-of-standards bearer they have chosen WMR, as it reads on all his personal belongings, shorthand for "What, Me Reimburse"? Our little Willard A.(in't) Human has no more problem pillaging than does our misspelled, misguided gemstone, Mr. Dimon. And yes, they both have lots of inclusions...just not you and me and the rest of the 99.9999999 percent.
These super rich, super powerful folk are a combination of the following "rules": No Returns, Service Fee Applicable, Post No Bills, No Shirt/No Shoes/No Service, Long-haired Freaky People Need Not Apply, Trespassers Will Be Shot On Sight, You Can't Always Get What You Want, and Bitch Make Sandwich. We rabble it seems, are gnats to be swatted at, street corner windshield washers to be avoided, little brown piles of what your doggie had for lunch yesterday to be stepped over. (After all, you can't spell POOR without POO!)
Unless it's Election Time. You see ET, as we'll call it, is when the THEMS of the world actually remember to "phone home" for our support. "Happy Voters' Day, weakling. Since you aren't dead yet, you think you might be able to tax your intsy mind long enough to drag your diabetic ass to the polls and vote for me?" They do know a lot about taxing us, but of course that is the stuff of the plebeians. The landed gentry manage not to get shit on them, as it turns out, even though they have all the horses. Because if they had to pay taxes those horsies might not be able to create new jobs for all the stable and unstable boys out there just praying to Jesus for the day when they can take a pitchfork out to the corral.
Not paying taxes is a big thing, but it isn't the thing that makes them so special. No, that would be the whole oops-we-fucked-up-and-now-you-all-have-to-pay-for-it, also known as more picking up of the shit. Jaime Dimon can blow (does blow) $2 billion and keep on being "Wall Street's Best Banker". Try snatching $2 out of the cash drawer at the 7-11 and see how long you stay employed. WMR (weapons of mass reduction) can swoop in and steal jobs and pensions--entire factories as a matter of fact--and he gets to taut such activities in his run for the Presidency of the United States of America. And we let him. We let the corporate media tell us what we think of what they say and what we should do or better yet not do about it. And that, kiddies, is how assholes become President. (I refer you to SCOTUS 2000 and Swiftboat 2004, respectively but never respectfully.)
My favorite tactic is when the Chief Executioner Offensers make the case that their company just cannot survive unless those nasty old "legacy costs" are reigned in. This is another way of stealing pensions, just a more transparent one. Those CEOs never get around to saying why it is the dying, sickly business still has the strength (and the cash) to hand out millions in bonuses. Obviously money is choosy: It only likes to date the guy who promises to take it on vacations a lot...to Switzerland and the Caymans. Money is SO shallow! And don't even get me started on Fame...I always forget its name anyway.
(CUE THE SPOOKY, DREAM-STATE MUSIC OF THE FLASH-FORWARD...)
But I really should try to look on the bright side of a Romney presidency, and whenever they let us come up to the surface for air, I'll do just that. (Course the air will be toxic and the gas masks will cost a literal arm-and-a-leg because we can always use a reminder about the "dignity of breathing".) The rich make all those awful decisions for us so we don't have to think. They count all the money so we don't have to run the risk of paper cuts. And they set the laws and agenda of the nation so we can stay off the streets and out of trouble. It's dangerous out there, after all, what with no unions because there's no collective bargaining, so there are no longer any police to keep the peace.
And peace. There's a novelty. Finally Halliburton has eclipsed their old nemesis Bell Helicopter--who couldn't keep Vietnam going for a decade "like we did with Afghanistan"--by actually, officially running the Pentagon. It's a dodecahedron now and has the shiniest front door you've ever seen. The back door's just a facade though, like the mental health care you get when they kick you out of it, I'm guessing.
Romneyland Theme Park just opened outside of Washington, RNC--it has four castes, I mean sections of amusements available:
FANTASYLAND: Here you will ride on the backs of the 99% and nosh on human caviar--so much for the whole pro-life gig. And if you have to ask how to get in, you never will.
TOMORROWLAND: Creepier still than Fantasyland, this is where the poor sap millionaires who think they are just a day away from entree into the greater kingdom ride in rickshaws as they beat their workers while dining on the salt of their own tears.
ADVENTURELAND: This is the largest section of the park but you can be sure it is no where near the Middle! Here you ride treadmills until you graduate up to moving sidewalks which somehow always manage to turn you out onto an escalator which only goes down. The food is all circular: onion rings, (these are) pancakes, doughnut (holes), and gold-wrapped candy coins...because Romney loves irony!
NEVERNEVERLAND: More of a petting zoo, really, this section of the park features a replica of "Motel Hell" on one side--complete with Phyllis Diller and Slim Pickens lookalikes--and a Soylent Green factory on the other. Inbetween you'll find the zoo itself with all the pasty, barely alive heads, their necks broken (so don't pet too hard) stuck into the ground like bodyless scarecrows. And if you don't like the taste of Soylent Green no worries, there's LOTS of sausage being made here. Everyone gets a free admission to this section, though it seems to be so popular that many never come out the other end. Expect a wait of one lifetime.
(MAKE THE MUSIC GO AWAY PLEASE, I WISH TO GIVE UP NOW.)
But that will never happen, right? The American People are a smart, well-informed lot. They won't let one side lie to them and another tell them to vote for Ralph Nader, Ron Paul, Buddy Roemer or some such foolishness, both of which amount to the same thing. And if THEY allow us to have a horse in this race, I'm riding the dark horse, the guy with the blue blanket. He may be a little gimpy now and again, but at least with him we're on the track. And if it's a dogtrack--Seamus forbid!--I'd just as soon be the greyhound and not the rabbit , or the carrot in front of the rabbit, or the GMO-modified seed in front of the carrot, or the scortched Monsanto earth under the seed, or the toxic groundwater under the earth, or the poor creatures forced to labor under whatever exists beneath the aquifers. May we never find out!
Then again, between Boehner's spray tan empire and Romney's mantle mining, we would purge mankind of the scourge of melanoma. Melanoma and joy.
...and we'd learn to stop worrying and love the bomb.
That's a job for Jamie Dimon, ALEC, the Koch Brothers, CrossRoads GPS, American CrossRoads, Fox News, and a ton of elected Republicans. (And the worst homage of "The Avengers" EH-ver!) They're more like an ARMEY of ROVErs, winging it to the Right-- always the Right--searching for little mice to snatch from the ever-shrinking field of Middle Class America. (See what I did there with the whole "vulture capitalist" thingy?)
And as their lack-of-standards bearer they have chosen WMR, as it reads on all his personal belongings, shorthand for "What, Me Reimburse"? Our little Willard A.(in't) Human has no more problem pillaging than does our misspelled, misguided gemstone, Mr. Dimon. And yes, they both have lots of inclusions...just not you and me and the rest of the 99.9999999 percent.
These super rich, super powerful folk are a combination of the following "rules": No Returns, Service Fee Applicable, Post No Bills, No Shirt/No Shoes/No Service, Long-haired Freaky People Need Not Apply, Trespassers Will Be Shot On Sight, You Can't Always Get What You Want, and Bitch Make Sandwich. We rabble it seems, are gnats to be swatted at, street corner windshield washers to be avoided, little brown piles of what your doggie had for lunch yesterday to be stepped over. (After all, you can't spell POOR without POO!)
Unless it's Election Time. You see ET, as we'll call it, is when the THEMS of the world actually remember to "phone home" for our support. "Happy Voters' Day, weakling. Since you aren't dead yet, you think you might be able to tax your intsy mind long enough to drag your diabetic ass to the polls and vote for me?" They do know a lot about taxing us, but of course that is the stuff of the plebeians. The landed gentry manage not to get shit on them, as it turns out, even though they have all the horses. Because if they had to pay taxes those horsies might not be able to create new jobs for all the stable and unstable boys out there just praying to Jesus for the day when they can take a pitchfork out to the corral.
Not paying taxes is a big thing, but it isn't the thing that makes them so special. No, that would be the whole oops-we-fucked-up-and-now-you-all-have-to-pay-for-it, also known as more picking up of the shit. Jaime Dimon can blow (does blow) $2 billion and keep on being "Wall Street's Best Banker". Try snatching $2 out of the cash drawer at the 7-11 and see how long you stay employed. WMR (weapons of mass reduction) can swoop in and steal jobs and pensions--entire factories as a matter of fact--and he gets to taut such activities in his run for the Presidency of the United States of America. And we let him. We let the corporate media tell us what we think of what they say and what we should do or better yet not do about it. And that, kiddies, is how assholes become President. (I refer you to SCOTUS 2000 and Swiftboat 2004, respectively but never respectfully.)
My favorite tactic is when the Chief Executioner Offensers make the case that their company just cannot survive unless those nasty old "legacy costs" are reigned in. This is another way of stealing pensions, just a more transparent one. Those CEOs never get around to saying why it is the dying, sickly business still has the strength (and the cash) to hand out millions in bonuses. Obviously money is choosy: It only likes to date the guy who promises to take it on vacations a lot...to Switzerland and the Caymans. Money is SO shallow! And don't even get me started on Fame...I always forget its name anyway.
(CUE THE SPOOKY, DREAM-STATE MUSIC OF THE FLASH-FORWARD...)
But I really should try to look on the bright side of a Romney presidency, and whenever they let us come up to the surface for air, I'll do just that. (Course the air will be toxic and the gas masks will cost a literal arm-and-a-leg because we can always use a reminder about the "dignity of breathing".) The rich make all those awful decisions for us so we don't have to think. They count all the money so we don't have to run the risk of paper cuts. And they set the laws and agenda of the nation so we can stay off the streets and out of trouble. It's dangerous out there, after all, what with no unions because there's no collective bargaining, so there are no longer any police to keep the peace.
And peace. There's a novelty. Finally Halliburton has eclipsed their old nemesis Bell Helicopter--who couldn't keep Vietnam going for a decade "like we did with Afghanistan"--by actually, officially running the Pentagon. It's a dodecahedron now and has the shiniest front door you've ever seen. The back door's just a facade though, like the mental health care you get when they kick you out of it, I'm guessing.
Romneyland Theme Park just opened outside of Washington, RNC--it has four castes, I mean sections of amusements available:
FANTASYLAND: Here you will ride on the backs of the 99% and nosh on human caviar--so much for the whole pro-life gig. And if you have to ask how to get in, you never will.
TOMORROWLAND: Creepier still than Fantasyland, this is where the poor sap millionaires who think they are just a day away from entree into the greater kingdom ride in rickshaws as they beat their workers while dining on the salt of their own tears.
ADVENTURELAND: This is the largest section of the park but you can be sure it is no where near the Middle! Here you ride treadmills until you graduate up to moving sidewalks which somehow always manage to turn you out onto an escalator which only goes down. The food is all circular: onion rings, (these are) pancakes, doughnut (holes), and gold-wrapped candy coins...because Romney loves irony!
NEVERNEVERLAND: More of a petting zoo, really, this section of the park features a replica of "Motel Hell" on one side--complete with Phyllis Diller and Slim Pickens lookalikes--and a Soylent Green factory on the other. Inbetween you'll find the zoo itself with all the pasty, barely alive heads, their necks broken (so don't pet too hard) stuck into the ground like bodyless scarecrows. And if you don't like the taste of Soylent Green no worries, there's LOTS of sausage being made here. Everyone gets a free admission to this section, though it seems to be so popular that many never come out the other end. Expect a wait of one lifetime.
(MAKE THE MUSIC GO AWAY PLEASE, I WISH TO GIVE UP NOW.)
But that will never happen, right? The American People are a smart, well-informed lot. They won't let one side lie to them and another tell them to vote for Ralph Nader, Ron Paul, Buddy Roemer or some such foolishness, both of which amount to the same thing. And if THEY allow us to have a horse in this race, I'm riding the dark horse, the guy with the blue blanket. He may be a little gimpy now and again, but at least with him we're on the track. And if it's a dogtrack--Seamus forbid!--I'd just as soon be the greyhound and not the rabbit , or the carrot in front of the rabbit, or the GMO-modified seed in front of the carrot, or the scortched Monsanto earth under the seed, or the toxic groundwater under the earth, or the poor creatures forced to labor under whatever exists beneath the aquifers. May we never find out!
Then again, between Boehner's spray tan empire and Romney's mantle mining, we would purge mankind of the scourge of melanoma. Melanoma and joy.
...and we'd learn to stop worrying and love the bomb.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Me & the Gays
I will never forget the experience of taking my kids to the PrideFest in Colorado Springs one year when they were little. Decked out in rainbow colors, we watched the parade and cheered as some lesbian friends passed by, we enjoyed some festival foods, and we perused the market area for information and finds. I came away with a sticker bearing the equal sign and the word "rights" on a Colorado license tag-looking background, but the kids were the big winners, as it should be.
One of the booths, situated under the shade trees of the downtown park, was advertising for a gay travel agency out of Denver. There was some game of chance that I do not recall, but both kids ended up "winning" gay rubber duckies, or "queer ducks" as they were referred to, punningly. They were so cute and for some reason we took to calling them the "uncle ducks".
But all the fun and frolic in the park was only the precursor to what was about to take place in the small band shell at the edge of the festivities. I took the kids to the top of an adjoining play structure so that they could have a bird's eye view, far above the heads of a very large crowd.
Once the announcer began, I instructed the kids to be quiet, but to watch the stage. One couple after another, in some of the most lovely garments you can imagine, took to the stage, stood facing each other, and expressed their love and affection. They were certainly vows, and though the state would never recognize them as such that did not seem to have any bearing on the commitment on full display nor on the mood of the onlookers. Standing atop that slide platform we watched as scores of people took their own version of "the plunge".
With both of my hands in theirs I couldn't do anything to adjust my appearance which led the kids to ask why Mommy was crying. As I recall I told them because this was quite possibly the most important day in some of those peoples' lives and that we'd been lucky enough to see it. But it was the fact I knew in my heart that really brought the tears: There were so many barriers put up, so many hurdles for these couples to negotiate just to get something that had no official sanction. When my husband and I got married, the only hurdles were the mandatory counseling session with the minister and the $10 marriage license fee. No blood test, no waiting for society to catch up to our plans, no outrage at the simple fact that we were in love. To this day, those were the only "weddings" at which I've ever cried.
President Obama took a big step this week toward bringing us together as a nation and provided his leadership through cultivating empathy. Everyone should be able to agree on celebrating love between people no matter who they happen to be. Our friends on the Right speak in such impassioned voices of Freedom and Liberty; I cannot see where being forced to hide your feelings to keep a job or a faith or a friend figures into those lofty ideals. Let everyone be free to pursue their happiness.
Like that day in the park so many years ago, I will never forget Wednesday either. I will always be able to recall the pride I felt in the courage of a President standing up for principle and Civil Rights...and setting aside politics for one shining moment.
I hope his statement leads to action worthy of a citizenry who are ready to put one more old prejudice aside, and that action would be to legalize Marriage Equality. In the days when you had to be 21 to drink anything alcoholic the joke was, "You can go to war and die for your country, you can get married and screw your life up real good, but you can't buy a beer!" As we could say now, "You can buy a beer and fight for your country, but you can't get married!" That's much worse and certainly no laughing matter. The next day I want to always remember is the day when our LGBT brothers and sisters are free to marry. I think it's coming soon, though never soon enough.
Every signal we send--especially to kids--is magnified in their hearts and minds. If we tell the prejudiced that hating is wrong, perhaps we can end the bullying of LGBT children. If we tell those bullied children that they are a viable and are an equal part of society with nothing to hide, maybe we could stop the suicides and the pain.
And maybe one day all the "uncles", "aunts", "friends"and "partners" who wish to be known by some other title, say "husband", "wife", "Mom" or "Dad", can feel free to call themselves just that...legally. "Daddy Ducks" sounds so much nicer, doesn't it?
One of the booths, situated under the shade trees of the downtown park, was advertising for a gay travel agency out of Denver. There was some game of chance that I do not recall, but both kids ended up "winning" gay rubber duckies, or "queer ducks" as they were referred to, punningly. They were so cute and for some reason we took to calling them the "uncle ducks".
But all the fun and frolic in the park was only the precursor to what was about to take place in the small band shell at the edge of the festivities. I took the kids to the top of an adjoining play structure so that they could have a bird's eye view, far above the heads of a very large crowd.
Once the announcer began, I instructed the kids to be quiet, but to watch the stage. One couple after another, in some of the most lovely garments you can imagine, took to the stage, stood facing each other, and expressed their love and affection. They were certainly vows, and though the state would never recognize them as such that did not seem to have any bearing on the commitment on full display nor on the mood of the onlookers. Standing atop that slide platform we watched as scores of people took their own version of "the plunge".
With both of my hands in theirs I couldn't do anything to adjust my appearance which led the kids to ask why Mommy was crying. As I recall I told them because this was quite possibly the most important day in some of those peoples' lives and that we'd been lucky enough to see it. But it was the fact I knew in my heart that really brought the tears: There were so many barriers put up, so many hurdles for these couples to negotiate just to get something that had no official sanction. When my husband and I got married, the only hurdles were the mandatory counseling session with the minister and the $10 marriage license fee. No blood test, no waiting for society to catch up to our plans, no outrage at the simple fact that we were in love. To this day, those were the only "weddings" at which I've ever cried.
President Obama took a big step this week toward bringing us together as a nation and provided his leadership through cultivating empathy. Everyone should be able to agree on celebrating love between people no matter who they happen to be. Our friends on the Right speak in such impassioned voices of Freedom and Liberty; I cannot see where being forced to hide your feelings to keep a job or a faith or a friend figures into those lofty ideals. Let everyone be free to pursue their happiness.
Like that day in the park so many years ago, I will never forget Wednesday either. I will always be able to recall the pride I felt in the courage of a President standing up for principle and Civil Rights...and setting aside politics for one shining moment.
I hope his statement leads to action worthy of a citizenry who are ready to put one more old prejudice aside, and that action would be to legalize Marriage Equality. In the days when you had to be 21 to drink anything alcoholic the joke was, "You can go to war and die for your country, you can get married and screw your life up real good, but you can't buy a beer!" As we could say now, "You can buy a beer and fight for your country, but you can't get married!" That's much worse and certainly no laughing matter. The next day I want to always remember is the day when our LGBT brothers and sisters are free to marry. I think it's coming soon, though never soon enough.
Every signal we send--especially to kids--is magnified in their hearts and minds. If we tell the prejudiced that hating is wrong, perhaps we can end the bullying of LGBT children. If we tell those bullied children that they are a viable and are an equal part of society with nothing to hide, maybe we could stop the suicides and the pain.
And maybe one day all the "uncles", "aunts", "friends"and "partners" who wish to be known by some other title, say "husband", "wife", "Mom" or "Dad", can feel free to call themselves just that...legally. "Daddy Ducks" sounds so much nicer, doesn't it?
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Chapter and Verse
The writing is going swimmingly at the moment. A good chapter today which may well be expanded into two or three in the coming days.
Ideas abound, school is almost out, and the sunlight is playing in aspen leaves now rather than being caught up in the branches.
I suppose we are becoming more free.
Now if I could just do something about this manic insomnia that comes with creation...Times like these it's a damn shame I do not drink. Or do drugs.
And I call myself a writer. Geez!
Ideas abound, school is almost out, and the sunlight is playing in aspen leaves now rather than being caught up in the branches.
I suppose we are becoming more free.
Now if I could just do something about this manic insomnia that comes with creation...Times like these it's a damn shame I do not drink. Or do drugs.
And I call myself a writer. Geez!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
I'm In With the Out Crowd
It has finally dawned on me, after a half-century of being a Democrat, that WE are not the outsiders, we've just allowed ourselves to be labeled as such. If your party is the one advocating for the rights of all families to be equal, of all workers to be treated fairly, of all persons no matter their beliefs to be heard, of all gender identifications to serve, of a cleaner environment, and of the existence of a Middle Class, then you should be the ones demanding the return of your country.
But we're too nice. Oh, okay, W. Sure, you loosened the pickle jar for eight years. It's not like that President guy did anything but slip off the little Bin Laden lid. And yes, we aren't always as quick as a Rachel Maddow on a Sunday show to correct "inaccuracies" or, what lesser-evolved beings might refer to as M'Fing Lies: We don't say such things. We don't pull our National Convention out of a state where they are about to move BACKWARD on family rights, about to regress away the tiny gains that had been made. No, we just suggest that the hate-mongering preacher in NC might wanna have a look at "American Beauty" so he can see how the whole "beat the crap outta your gay kid" thing works out.
We are the donkeys, but we aren't the jackasses. Sorry elephants--see how I had to say "sorry"--but that would be you guys. Yes, there are some simple differences in opinion and in policy between reasonable people...thank goodness for that. But when killing Bin Laden is bad and beating kids is good--well, you lost me there.
I remember during the Decade of Bullying when I was young, that bullies are people who spread rumors and tell falsehoods, they push you around and call you names, they isolate you by your differences from them. Sound pachedermy yet? Rove, rove, rove your boat-load of lies: "Forward" means Marxist (except when both Bushes used it) and Healthcare For Most is evil (unless The Heritage Foundation is cool with it). And speaking of boats...we didn't stand up in 2004 and look what happened. This is THAT kind of election, I fear. Should President be up by 30 points? Of course. But these folks have a history of stealing elections; CLOSE ONES make their nefarious jobs easier. Then there's the suppression...and ALEC...and the poorly-named Citizens United.
I was loathe to call a lot of this racism four years ago. I knew some would be, some always is. And we sure saw a ton of that in the August 2009 town halls! But the more we Democrats are painted as the infidels, the more I wonder just where does the fear and anger come from? Changing demographics? Outmoded industries? The Occupy Movement?
Whether the Republicans are worried that they showed up at the wrong ballpark after the game had already been played or not, one thing is as clear as the glass keeping things briny in that pickle jar:
You gotta really hate a black man to knock the death of Bin Laden!
But we're too nice. Oh, okay, W. Sure, you loosened the pickle jar for eight years. It's not like that President guy did anything but slip off the little Bin Laden lid. And yes, we aren't always as quick as a Rachel Maddow on a Sunday show to correct "inaccuracies" or, what lesser-evolved beings might refer to as M'Fing Lies: We don't say such things. We don't pull our National Convention out of a state where they are about to move BACKWARD on family rights, about to regress away the tiny gains that had been made. No, we just suggest that the hate-mongering preacher in NC might wanna have a look at "American Beauty" so he can see how the whole "beat the crap outta your gay kid" thing works out.
We are the donkeys, but we aren't the jackasses. Sorry elephants--see how I had to say "sorry"--but that would be you guys. Yes, there are some simple differences in opinion and in policy between reasonable people...thank goodness for that. But when killing Bin Laden is bad and beating kids is good--well, you lost me there.
I remember during the Decade of Bullying when I was young, that bullies are people who spread rumors and tell falsehoods, they push you around and call you names, they isolate you by your differences from them. Sound pachedermy yet? Rove, rove, rove your boat-load of lies: "Forward" means Marxist (except when both Bushes used it) and Healthcare For Most is evil (unless The Heritage Foundation is cool with it). And speaking of boats...we didn't stand up in 2004 and look what happened. This is THAT kind of election, I fear. Should President be up by 30 points? Of course. But these folks have a history of stealing elections; CLOSE ONES make their nefarious jobs easier. Then there's the suppression...and ALEC...and the poorly-named Citizens United.
I was loathe to call a lot of this racism four years ago. I knew some would be, some always is. And we sure saw a ton of that in the August 2009 town halls! But the more we Democrats are painted as the infidels, the more I wonder just where does the fear and anger come from? Changing demographics? Outmoded industries? The Occupy Movement?
Whether the Republicans are worried that they showed up at the wrong ballpark after the game had already been played or not, one thing is as clear as the glass keeping things briny in that pickle jar:
You gotta really hate a black man to knock the death of Bin Laden!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)