play it again: all for love


This circus act supports love and marriage for all!

originally posted July 17, 2012

Back in 2008, I found myself confronted with the thought of marriage. No, not mine. The marriage of others…who may marry, legally, and who could not. Of course I am talking about California’s Proposition 8 which effectively banned same sex marriages in our state. So much bitterness and hate bubbled up from the campaign for Prop 8 and against it. Arguments supporting it demanded that marriage had to be protected…families must be protected from couples who wanted to be married. All of this reminded me of a way of thinking and laws that were in place to protect marriage when I was just a little girl.

Almighty God created the races white, black, yellow, malay and red, and he placed them on separate continents. And but for the interference with his arrangement there would be no cause for such marriages. The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix.
~ Virgina Judge Leon M. Bazile

That’s right boys and girls, before the US Supreme Court’s 1967 unanimous decision  in Loving v. Virgina, interracial  marriage was illegal in some states in the name of morality and the sanctity of marriage, no less. In Virginia, a couple could be jailed for one to five years for miscenegation even if they were legally married in another part of the United States. That was 1967…in my lifetime interracial marriage was against the law! Despite the Supreme Court’s ruling such laws remained on the books until the year 2000 when the state of Alabama finally removed its ban on mixed-race marriages. The year 2000!

How we have evolved…how LONG it took us to evolve!

And yet here we are scarcely more than a decade later and we are wrestling, fighting bitterly over protecting marriages from same sex couples who too want to commit to the act of marriage. Some argue stridently that our marriages will be destroyed if we allow this to happen. How, I wonder? Really, how is a couple, any couple, straight or gay, getting married going to ruin my marriage? How? Bill and I have been married now for 29 years. No one is going to mess that up except, god forbid, us. Our marriage, our vows are ours and our responsibility. I refuse to see how another couple’s marriage could sever that bond that we have worked on and continue to work on.

Back in 2008, I really began to think long and hard on exactly where did I stand on this. My own children’s thoughtful opinions only inspired me to think about this even more. Where did I stand? What would I do if one of my children came to me presenting the love of their life, their soul-mate and expressed their desire to marry that person only to realize that they could not because it was against the law? Would I reject them…like so many supporters of Proposition 8 did…condemn them…hate them?

Of course not!

I love my children unconditionally. I want my children to be free to marry the love of their life.

And so I chose to vote no on proposition 8 back in 2008. Unfortunately, it did pass with 52% of the vote in favor and 47% of the vote against and same sex marriages were and remain banned in our state. But many in California chose to not accept that vote and have remained vocal against what basically was the hate. One group was The NoH8 Campaign.

The NOH8 Campaign is a charitable organization whose mission is to promote marriage, gender and human equality through education, advocacy, social media, and visual protest.
The NOH8 Campaign is a photographic silent protest created by celebrity photographer Adam Bouska (http://www.bouska.net) and partner Jeff Parshley in direct response to the passage of Proposition 8. Photos feature subjects with duct tape over their mouths, symbolizing their voices being silenced by Prop 8 and similar legislation around the world, with “NOH8″ painted on one cheek in protest.
Three years since its inception, the NOH8 Campaign has grown to over 20,000 faces and continues to grow at an exponential rate. The campaign began with portraits of everyday Californians from all walks of life and soon rose to include politicians, military personnel, newlyweds, law enforcement, artists, celebrities, and many more.
The NOH8 Campaign has received overwhelming support from around the world, and has appeared in various local and national news programs and publications. The images are widely used on various social networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter to spread the message of equality.
~from the NoH8 Campaign website

So when photographer Adam Bouska and the NoH8 Campaign came to Sacramento today for an open photo shoot, of course I wanted to go…and my kids wanted to as well…and my darling daughter #1 wanted to bring her children too. It was a family circus affair! Unfortunately the whole circus act could not be there. Bill and Ben were at work, Abby had school and Zoë is living now in LA. But the six of us were there representing this family circus supporting acceptance, respect and equality for all.

All around the Citizen Hotel there was literally nothing but love, smiles and kindness from the hotel staff, the NoH8 staff, volunteers and everyone there.

Men, women, couples (gay and straight), children, families all waiting patiently in line getting their NoH8 temporary tattoos and getting to know one another while waiting their turn for Adam to take pictures.


There was so much love, so much patience, so much kindness, so much acceptance and so much respect in that room. This is exactly what I want my children to know and to reflect…and they do.

My generation was bitterly divided over something that should have been so clear and right. The majority believed that what the judge said, that it was God’s plan to keep people apart, and that government should discriminate against people in love. But I have lived long enough now to see big changes. The older generation’s fears and prejudices have given way, and today’s young people realize that if someone loves someone, they have a right to marry.

Surrounded as I am now by wonderful children and grandchildren, not a day goes by that I don’t think of Richard and our love, our right to marry, and how much it meant to me to have that freedom to marry the person precious to me, even if others thought he was the ‘wrong kind of person’ for me to marry. I believe all Americans, no matter their race, no matter their sex, no matter their sexual orientation, should have that same freedom to marry. Government has no business imposing some people’s religious beliefs over others. Especially if it denies people’s civil rights.

I am still not a political person, but I am proud that Richard’s and my name is on a court case that can help reinforce the love, the commitment, the fairness, and the family that so many people, black or white, young or old, gay or straight, seek in life. I support the freedom to marry for all. That’s what Loving, and loving, are all about.
~ Mildred Loving, June 12, 2007

play it again: certified


It was that time of year again for me. Time to get my Basic Life Support re-certification on again…and have the resuscitation mannikin talk dirty to me. Even better is this year the infant mannikin now talks dirty to me too. 

Thankfully I saved both mannikins and I am re-certified to perform CPR for the next two years.

You’re welcome!

originally posted May 17, 2011

Certified.

Again

For the last 24 years, every two years, I am re-certified to provide Basic Life Support as a Healthcare Provider. So yes, I still know how to save a life.

You’re welcome!

Would you believe that I have never used the CPR skills that I have learned and re-learned? True. I guess I’m too busy catching sick and tiny babies and saving their lives with my NRP skills, which must also be tested and renewed every two years as well. But if I had to perfom CPR I could…and I have the certification to prove it.

This year’s re-certification was different than it has been the last twelve times I have done it. This time around I was proctored by the manikin. A little awkward…a little weird…a lot distracting. I mean here I am trying to count chest compressions out loud because we’re supposed to and the manikin’s computer generated voice is providing feedback at the same time.

“Dude, I’m trying to count!”, I think to myself.

But the manikin continues to talk to me.

“Faster!”

“Deeper!”

“Not so deep!”

“Slower!”

“That’s good! Very good!”

“You’re doing a great job!”

Any moment, I swear I expected the manikin to scream with orgasmic pleasure…or perhaps ask me if it was good for me too as he lit up a cigarette…which is probably why he needed CPR in the first place.

play it again: checked out in Target


A recent conversation with a male friend (and a father of a daughter, younger than my girls) prompted me to recall this blog post, originally written just last year.

SIGH!

I guess for some it will always be 1950 in their minds and it will always be the girl’s fault/responsibility for what happens to her because of the way she is dressed. 

If only we could become more evolved in our thinking. If only we could be more proactive in teaching our daughters AND sons on how to dress with respect for their own bodies. If only we could teach our sons AND daughters that they are ultimately responsible for their own self-control and how they should treat others, especially members of the opposite sex.

If only.

It won’t be long when his own darling daughter is fourteen. Perhaps then he will truly understand that his own daughter isn’t necessarily dressing for or wanting such attention and that some men need to grow up and exhibit a little bit of respect and self-control.

It’s just another day of running errands and shopping at Target with one of my girls. Yes, my life is a glamorous one and because it is, we dressed for the occasion…jeans, t-shirt and a sweatshirt. I went a little crazy applying mascara but other than that, my daughter and I were dressed for the occasion in our usual comfortable and casual way that would only help to class up the Manteca Target the way that we do. Walking up and down the aisles, I find myself distracted by a cute pair of flats as my darling daughter walks on ahead pushing our cart.

I look up at her walking on ahead just in time to notice her passing a thirty-something couple with a cute little girl sitting in their shopping cart. The lady is looking at blouses and holds one up for the man she is with to notice. He notices…my daughter as she walks by.

Oh.

My.

God.

He is checking out her ass! My baby girl’s.

Being the mom that I am, I walk ahead to catch up to my darling daughter. As I pass the couple, I glare at the man who is still leering at my child.

Shame on you! She is fourteen year’s old.“, I hiss.

He immediately looks away. The lady looks up to where my daughter is and smacks him. He deserved it. Perv.

Yes, I am that kind of mom who will call out grown men ogling one of my girls. Really. Just ask my daughters. Over at The Stir, another mom finds herself dealing with similar situations and shares her frustrations over men behaving badly. She poses the question Have you ever caught an adult staring way too long at your child? How did you handle it? Did you just let it slide?” and the comments began. It seems that many readers believe that the daughter is at fault. In the comments it is assumed that obviously the child is dressed in such a way that the poor, innocent, grown man can’t help but fix his eyes in a leering way on her daughter. The girl is asking for it. Shame on her and shame on her mama for letting her dress like a little slut.

Interesting sidebar is most of the women who sided with the conclusion that the girls are asking for it either do not have children or were mothers of boys.

What is this? 1950? It’s the child’s fault? The girl is asking for such unwanted attention? So it would follow that my child, dressed in blue jeans and a sweatshirt also deserved to be leered at as well?

Honestly?

True, there are young ladies out in the world who do dress in  ways that can and do call attention to themselves. I have teen-aged daughters. I notice what their peers wear. They are the minority. Still, does that really excuse a man for behaving badly? I don’t think so. My observations, raising these girls of mine and protecting them from the pervy dogs we encounter is that there are some men who will ogle anyone with XX chromosomes regardless of what they are wearing or their age…well, okay maybe they wouldn’t be checking out my kids’ great-grandmother (although at age 92 she is still gorgeous)…still there are some guys in this world who are just dogs.

I blame their moms.

Why not? After all, it is NOT 1950. It’s high time that the guys learn  a little self-restraint and try to imagine someone like themselves checking out their precious baby girl. Pervy dude in Target, I’m looking at you.

play it again: freckled love


originally posted April 8, 2011

A  long, long time ago in a land far, far away called Second Grade, there lived a delightful, red-headed girl with freckles named, Zoë.

Zoë loved Second Grade and all that was there.It was indeed a magical place of laughter, joyful play and discovery all thanks to the ruler of the kingdom, Mrs. Boyum.

Also living in the land of Second Grade was this boy named Chase. Zoë liked Chase. She liked Chase a lot. She liked Chase so much that he was arguably her first crush. But alas, Chase did not feel the same way for Zoë. He explained to Zoë that he just could not love a girl with freckles on her face.

Poor Zoë!

Much time passed and Zoë was now a delightful young lady with auburn curls and lots of freckles. She moved far away to a magical place called Monterey Bay in search of more discovery and adventure. There she met a handsome, young prince named Josh. Josh liked girls with freckles, especially he liked the freckle-faced girl named Zoë.

And Zoë realized that she liked even more the handsome prince named Josh.

Looks like Chase’s loss is Josh’s gain.

Lucky, lucky Josh!

play it again: celebrating the normal no matter how much in need of vodka I might find myself


Originally posted January 13, 2011

For Daniel’s birthday I asked how would he like to celebrate. Big parties right now are out of the question but I always allow the birthday clown to decide the meal for that day. Daniel’s choice I knew would be pizza…a no brainer…piece of cake. He looked at me thoughtfully and asked, “How about we have my birthday at Chuck E. Cheese?”

Chuck E. Cheese?

The boy has never been to a Chuck E. Cheese. His early medical needs pretty much prevented us from taking him to that Rat’s nest. His sensory processing issues and difficulties over the years practically guaranteed that this would be the LAST place we would ever take him. The last time I had been in a Chuck E. Cheese Jodie was 3 years old. I haven’t missed the place and I certainly was willing to continue to deprive myself of going there for Daniel’s sake over the years. But this year, for his birthday, more than anything in the whole wide world, the boy wanted to go there.

Okay, who planted that idea in his head? Damn you Nickelodeon or any 2nd grade peer running around on the playground. Okay, I take back damnation for the innocent classmates, but I refuse to let Nickelodeon off the hook.

Chuck E. Cheese?

Really?

Why?

But Chuck E. Cheese is the place that Daniel wants to be to celebrate with his family and closest friend sooo….Chuck E. Cheese it is.

Sitting at my table watching kids running amuck screaming and yelling and crying in a child’s version of a Vegas casino, I wonder why doesn’t this place serve vodka for the parents…they should.

Oh lordy help me!

I do love my son and would do anything I could for him but this is so hard. Then I see him having so much fun. He’s playing games and collecting tickets (for cheap awesome prizes) galore and running back to the table to gather up more game tokens to head off to play some more games and win some more…and he is having so much fun. The cardboard with cheese they label as pizza is absolutely delicious he declares. He seems to be oblivious or perhaps thriving in this sugar overloaded chaos of bright, flashing lights, loud bells and whistles, screaming children invading his personal bubble. He is having fun. Mommy wants vodka but my boy is having fun. Even having pop rocks candy explode in his extraordinarily sensitive mouth is the most amazing, delightful sensation ever. My boy is having so much fun. And I find myself having so much fun because my nine year old boy is having normal, crazy, chaotic, hyper fun in Chuck E. Cheese…like the rest of the children in the house.

Okay, perhaps I don’t need the vodka after all.

Life with Daniel has always been about celebrating the normal no matter how annoying or exhausting or mind numbing it can be. The joyful, good things are always good and celebrated but so are the not so good, but normal childhood things. For me, Chuck E. Cheese is not good. But my boy wanting to be there and having the time of his life is good…very good…so typical, so normal and so very good.

Thank goodness on the way home he suggested that next year he would rather party at Boomers playing mini golf and driving go-karts. Because next year he is going to be :::gulp:::ten years old!