YOU CAN'T GO BACK

Our country is full of anger and hate that has been hiding under a rock until someone came along and said it was ok to be that way. It surprises me that people are so surprised by that. It might not have been obvious, but it’s always been there.

I said all along Trump was going to win because the DNC forced Hillary on us by throwing Bernie under the bus and cheating. With all due respect to white men, besides these I'm about to speak of - I got so sick of hearing scared white men claiming President Hillary was a done deal and they were going to have to pee sitting down. I found that to be beyond ignorant, and such a turn-off. No wonder these particular men are still single and miserable.

I’ve retired from posting anything political, informative or opinionated on Facebook and deleted all of my political posts from the past year. I did lose friends. Some didn’t like my stance, some didn’t like my message, some didn’t like my side, some didn’t like my humor, some changed my words and made it all about them, and all in that group ended up not liking me.

I have to wonder how good of friends these people were in the first place. I wonder about their thin skin and over-sensitivity in some cases, their hypocrisy and their great deal of anger at people that don’t think like them regarding politics. I have an opinion, just like everyone else. In the case of Facebook, if you don’t like it, stay off my page. But if you don’t like it and keep coming back and coming back for more, you are just looking for a fight and YOU’RE BAD, not me. But that doesn’t matter now because I’m done with the haters on that venue.

I have friends that are so upset over Trump, that they have stopped being friends with anyone that voted for him. I’m not going to go that far, but I do understand where they are coming from. It is hard to understand people who voted for him. You look at someone you thought you knew, and now they come striding in with statements like, “Multiply by 1000 how you feel about Trump as president and that’s how I felt when they put that nigger in the White House. The South shall rise again.” And another one, “I don’t hate niggers. Everyone should own one.” And another one, “Oh c’mon baby, c’mere let me rub your pussy. That’ll make you feel better about all this.”

This is what Trump has unleashed on America, on Americans. People are crying not because their candidate lost, but because Trump has given license for people to abuse one another. He opened the door and made it okay again for white people to hate minorities. He embraces segregation and encourages it. He has ushered in the antiquated era of molesting, sexually harassing and abusing women with no shame or consequences. Personally, I have been sexually harassed, molested and assaulted so many times I can’t remember all of them. Some stand out because they were particularly traumatic. But it has been so commonplace in my life that I just fought my way through it and went on. It left scars. It never got me any special favors. It just allowed me to keep a low-paying job.

People are crying because they don’t want to go backwards, not because their candidate lost. Blacks and women have fought for decades and decades for equality, dignity and respect from a foul, old, white man-ruled country which would just as soon have us for slaves, sex and maids, and equality be damned. That’s what we’re looking down the barrel of AGAIN!

Well, you can’t go back. Beaver Clever doesn’t live here anymore. He’s in a retirement home collecting Social Security. The old neighborhood has been upgraded. The tv’s are in color. Milk isn’t delivered to your doorstep anymore. We’re fighting GMO food now. We don’t just gaze at the moon, we explore space. Computers are the norm. Phones are wireless. Cars are smart. Gas isn’t 16 cents a gallon anymore, it’s $2.50. You can’t go back again!

Stop living in the past. Almost all of the Trump supporters I talked to wanted to make Christianity part of government, reminisced about their childhood and wanted to go back to the simple days of yore. You can’t go back! No matter what anyone tells you, YOU CAN”T GO BACK! For God’s sake, embrace the future!

People are crying because climate change is real. The earth is alive. You can get all wrapped up in your superficial world and hypocritically embraced technology, and try to ignore the fact that the earth is alive, but it will eventually chew you up and spit you out for abusing it. Earth changes have happened for billions of years and will continue to happen because, like I said, the earth is alive.

Then there’s the people factor. People are killing the earth AND the human race by polluting our oceans and rivers, fracking, land and air pollution, development and on and on with all the other things we do with disregard to the earth. People are crying because we have clean alternatives that our government won’t embrace because of greed and special interests that we just welcomed in with this new administration.

The electorate failed. It was created to prevent a Donald Trump from happening. That's another avenue that should be explored, election reform.  People are crying because 2/3 of the populous didn’t vote because they are apathetic. I hope they’re pleased with the results. They should have learned from Texas. That was our statistic too. The 1/3 that did vote are split, with the majority voting for Hillary. But the lesser half of that 1/3 won the electorate. And they want to go back in time to a simpler era. You can’t go back!

Children are crying because they’re scared. There is no reason not to take Trump at his word. People are crying because they realize that their country is full of anger, hate, racism, bigotry and misogyny. Whether you just voted for Trump for change is irrelevant. Your vote supported his message.  And his message was heard loud and clear throughout the WORLD and the people that voted for him embraced and ignored his lies and bad behavior.

We all agreed on what the problems were. We just disagreed on how to fix them. Unfortunately the disagreement was huge and divisive. Thankfully we have a system of checks and balances that might keep Trump in check. But, we are approaching the closest we’ve ever been to fascism, in my opinion. And we’re not out of the woods. Washington is very red now, and not the good kind of red. If this was Eisenhower-era red, we might be okay. But this is uncharted territory red that could be quite dangerous with this particular leader.

People aren’t crying because their candidate lost. People are crying because their ideals of a better America lost to a fury of anger. Only time will tell how all of this anger will manifest. Anger is a negative thing and usually only breeds negativity. But, we’ll see. One thing is certain, America will never be the same again. Let’s hope that’s not a bad thing, because you can’t go back.

When They Turn 18

     Augie, Strawbabies, Rice P P's, Glaskez, E-luh-luh, Tonk Engine, G'Mama, the Big Angels and the Little Angels, J'wans, The Red, Asheetah, Chocolates fundraiser, Dale Earnhardt, Thunderhill Raceway, Pontius Pilate, Thumb tack in chair, bottle bombs and Iggy Smudge.
     My baby turns 18 today. It's hard to believe. Time went way too fast. Yesterday I was walking him into his kindergarten class and a couple of days ago I watched him get his high school diploma. I didn't cry. I started to, but I had a cowbell so I just rang it harder and my sister Michelle turned on her hand held light show and it made us laugh. Whew! It was a close one though. If I would have started crying, I would have never stopped.
     So every time I felt the water works coming on I would yell someones name. GO Todd! Ring the cowbell. GO Megan! Ring the cowbell. YOU ROCK Indy! Ring the cowbell. I've already been deemed a 16 year old trapped in an old body by my son. "Indy your mom is cool," he says his friends say. So the other parents weren't surprised at my sudden outbursts of names and noise. My kid learned long ago, just go with it and it will be fun and not embarrassing.
     All kids have names for their things and their own stories. They are precious and priceless, especially when they're learning to talk. These are a few of my son, Indy's from baby to now.   
     Augie is Indy's stuffed lamb that was given to him when he was three months old. He carried him everywhere for years. He gave it that name. We have no idea where he came up with it. There's not a whole lot left of Augie now, but he still exists.
     More of Indy's words and stories:
     Strawbabies - what Indy called strawberries
     Rice P P's - Rice Crispies
     Glaskez - how Indy pronounced the word glasses
     E-luh-luh - the number 11
     Tonk Engine - Thomas the Tank Engine (Indy decided that saying all that just took too much time so he condensed it.).
     G'Mama - what he called my mother
     The Red - what Indy called blood when he would cut himself.  "Mom, the red's coming out. Will you fix it?" 
     Asheetah - the name of one of Indy's stuffed animals. He named one of our cats that name too. Have no idea where he got it.
     J'wans - the scary wild boar-looking creatures that came in through the electrical sockets. They had red glowing eyes.
     The Big Angels and the Little Angels - When Indy had learned to talk pretty well, around age three, he told me this story: "When it rains hard, the big angels throw down the water," gesturing with his hands throwing something down hard. "When it rains soft the little angels throw down the water," gesturing with his hands throwing something lightly.
     The Chocolates Fundraiser - There once was a third grade fundraiser...Indy didn't do fundraisers well, bless his little heart. So I did the majority of them. This particular one was wrapping paper, chocolates, nuts, confectioner's candies, etc. Indy thought it was all wrapping paper though. I gave Indy the money and order form to turn in to his teacher. In a couple of weeks the orders came in and Indy's teacher handed out the boxes to the kids to take home and distribute. Curious, Indy looked in his box. On top was a box of chocolates. Indy thought it was a reward for selling stuff so he and one of his little friends ate almost the entire box. He brought the big box home and I opened it up. I got out the order form to put the orders together. I grabbed the first box of chocolates and noticed it was almost empty.
"Indy! Come here.What happened to this box of chocolates? Do you know?"
"I ate them." 
"You ate them? This was part of someones order."
"I thought it was a reward for selling stuff!"
"You ate the fundraiser."
"I hate fundraisers!" he stormed off to his room
Luckily, I had bought a box of the same chocolates and so there was another box to fill the order.
     Dale Earnhardt - was Indy's favorite NASCAR driver. When Indy was seven, we bought tickets to the then Winston Cup NASCAR race at Texas Motor Speedway. Indy was very excited about getting to see Earnhardt race live. Unfortunately, Earnhardt was killed in a crash a month before our race and Indy never got to see him race. He still got to experience a NASCAR race and take a picture next to his second favorite driver Jeff Gordon's car. Indy became a huge Jeff Gordon fan after that.
     Thunder Hill Raceway - The local stock car race track where Indy and I spent many Saturday nights at the races.
     Pontius Pilate - Of course we know who that is. But during one of our prayers at church, Indy makes fun of the way I say it because he says I say it with a heavy southern accent.
     Thumb Tack In Chair - Ring Ring! "Ms. Guest?"
"Yes."
"This is the assistant principal at the Jr. High. I have Indy in the office. He put a thumb tack in a boy's chair and the boy sat on it."
"What?" What happened? Say that again!"
He repeats what he said.
"Indy? Indy did that? Are you sure it was Indy? He's never been in trouble in his life! Are you sure it was Indy? Indy? Really? For sure? For real? Indy?"
"I'm speechless. This is totally out of character for Indy."
There just has to be something more to this, I thought.
Sure enough, the kid did it on a dare. The trouble instigator, I've now dubbed Thumb Tack Kid and/or Mr. $30, dared Indy to do it for $30. And no. He never gave Indy the $30. Not that he wanted to, but Indy was not allowed to hang out around that kid again.
     Bottle Bombs! -  Fast forward three or four years to high school. Indy's dad (we're divorced) has to go out of town to cover Hurricane Ike. It was his weekend to have Indy. He thinks it's ok for Indy to stay by himself the entire weekend at his house while he's gone. After all, his girlfriend is only a few doors down and she will be there if Indy needs anything. I think this is a really bad idea. I don't think he's old enough and I was worried about him eating right. I just didn't like this idea at all. But the two of them were all gung-ho about it so I went along with it, reluctantly.
The weekend went off without a hitch. Then Indy came home from his dad's a few hours early. He walks in the door and before he even had the door closed he said, "I made a bomb and the cops came."
"Funny. Have you had dinner?"
"No, really Mom. I made a bomb and the cops came."
"Uh huh. Have you eaten?"
"Mom! Really. I made a bomb and the cops came."
"What? You did what?"
"I made a bottle bomb."
"What is a bottle bomb?
"It's a plastic soda bottle. You put tin foil in it and toilet bowl cleaner and then it blows up."
"What on earth possessed you to do that? That doesn't sound like you at all, Indy! What the hell!"
"I saw it on the Internet and thought I would try it. It was really loud and the neighbors called the cops."
"O dear God! It's a wonder they didn't arrest you for terrorism!"
I few moments went by and I was thinking, boy will be boys. I'll bet that was pretty cool though, watching the chemical reaction and then the explosion. A science experiment in the back yard.
"I did it twice."
"You made two of them? "
"Yeah."
"What did the cops do?"
"They talked to me and told me it was really dangerous. Someone could have gotten hurt. And don't do it again."
"Yes, Indy, it is dangerous. It's also a 'boys will be boys' thing to me too. So, I'm not going to punish you for this. But what if something would have gone wrong and you got hurt. With no one around you could have laid there for hours. Please don't do that again, especially by yourself.
And that's when guilt overwhelmed the boy.
"I wasn't alone."
"What? Who else was there?"
He mumbled someones name under his breath.
"Who?"
He mumbled an indiscernible name again.
"Who Indy?"
"Thumb Tack Kid," he blurted out.
"O My God! I knew it. I knew this was not something you would do on your own. I don't know what possessed you to hook up with that kid after all this time? But the two times you have gotten in trouble in your life has been with that kid. Making the bomb I could overlook. But hooking up with that kid again...YOU'RE GROUNDED!"
     Iggy Smudge - Michelle has nicknamed Indy, Iggy.  At graduation he was wearing his senior shirt that they all signed. Michelle asked him if his name was on there and he replied pointing, "Yeah, it's that smudge right there." Michelle promptly said Iggy Smudge! And thus, Iggy Smudge was born.
     A new era begins now as Indy gets ready to enter college. It is bittersweet. I'm very happy Indy has graduated but there are many things I will miss about the school years. And I will miss some of Indy's friends as well, who are going off to the military. 
     A mother's kiss never leaves her son's cheek.  
     IGGY SMUDGE FOREVER!

So Much For Rapture Day

     Because my birthday was the same day as "Rapture Day," I feel compelled to comment on it. Harold Camping, the preacher who predicted rapture day, is in seclusion. Ya think?! I would imagine some of his benefactors are going to want some of that $7 million back.
     How can a Christian man, who supposedly lives by the gospel, believe he can predict the end of the world? It clearly says in the bible that no one will know when the end comes. So what compels a man to such arrogance? And what compels people to believe him?
     Revelations, interpreted as a prediction of our future, is a relatively new idea, conceptualized by two Catholic writers in the 18th century. Their interpretation was rejected by the Vatican but gained a cult following. This cult views Earth changes as divine and "signs" of the second coming of Christ. I have grown up listening to different religious groups attempting to predict the end of the world on dates that have come and gone with nary a whimper. You would think someone would have gotten a clue, but they still continue to predict the end.
     My long-time neighbor of 47 years died on my birthday/rapture day. Brother Young was a Baptist preacher. He performed marriages for some members of my family and buried all of them, even though no one in my family was Baptist. He was still a friend and knew everyone in my family.
     Back in the 70s he was diagnosed with cancer. I had a dream that he was cured and when I saw him I told him about it. He laughed and said, "God willing." Sure enough, Brother Young's cancer went into remission for the next 35+ years. His cancer returned at the age of 95 and ultimately claimed his life. I guess you could say he was raptured away.
     I wish this futurists "end of the world" cult would focus as much energy on the living, breathing ball we exist on instead of putting all of their energy into waiting for the end. So much more could be accomplished on this planet if people weren't "waiting" for the end. Seriously. How much do you get accomplished when you're waiting on something? So to the "end" cult I say, stop waiting! You're wasting your life away. We all die eventually so make sure you are spiritually prepped and live each day like it was your last.