our farce

In 1973, this is how I spent my summer vacation.

The fact that Mommy Dearest and my grandparents were okay with this amuses me because they all ascribed to the belief that if the sun is shining, all god’s children MUST be outside playing…in the sun shining down upon them. This parenting philosophy of course pre-dates the marinate the children in all the sunscreen protection. I know, we didn’t know any better then, Laura. Thankfully, the summer of 1973 was one summer of my childhood where I wasn’t suffering through an often blistering sunburn as a pale, ginger girl outside all day in the bright sunshine often did back in the day. Instead I was learning the lesson that: Never again must America allow an arrogant, elite guard of political adolescents bypass the regular party organization and dictate the terms of a national election.

Here we are now.

Kids, remember when 45’s surrogates spoke of how wrong it would be to elect a president who is under an FBI investigation? Kellyanne Conway. Sarah HuckabeeMarco Rubio, Sean HannityHere we are.

History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.

~ Karl Marx

 

flower power

My red, itchy eyes and nose are telling me what my eyes can see in and around the 209; the Almond Blossom season is upon us. I do love the almonds! As for their blossoms, well it’s most definitely love-hate kind of regard. I hate how they make my eyes and nose itch in a way that all the Zyrtec in the world will not fix. But there are the almonds to come and, right now, how beautiful the blossoms are blanketing the Central Valley snowy white.

Driving to work this weekend, in the gusty, windy deluge of rains that was Winter Storm Lucifer, I couldn’t help but admire something more about those lovely blossoms. We have been slammed hard in a way that topples trees and causes hills to slide and roads to crumble and holes to swallow up cars. Our reservoirs, lakes, rivers and streams are overflowing with some spillways failing and a glory hole spillway flows for the first time in years – a spillway called the Glory Hole! Heh! Even in our neck of the woods a levee is in danger of failing and flooding parts of my own city for the first time in 20 years. Don’t worry, the new Big Top is high and dry…dryish…actually quite soggy but in no danger of flooding. As for the blossoms, the blossoms continue to blossom and hold fast to the branches on all the fruit and nut trees in all the orchards everywhere in and around the Central Valley. That’s a good thing, a very good thing because I do love almonds.

Almond blossoms sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us. – Edwin Arnold

snowflakes, snow days and winter is coming

Somedays can be so hard…like today. Chronic pain, persistent anger that simmers at a low boil and long awaited and prayed-for winter storms take their toll…and today it was just that.

Expressing frustrations socially can help except in this time of political incorrectness; which is basically code for a hall pass for bullying anyone who doesn’t agree with you. Still today was a day where I spoke my mind, because I have a mind dammit and as long as it is my social space and the First Amendment remains, I’m going to express myself. It feels good. It’s even better to bask in the warmth of the like-minded in my own circle. In church we used to refer to it as encouragement. Of course, not everyone I know thinks like me. That’s okay. Most can just agree to disagree because it’s the mature thing to do. Others just walk away, mute, unfollow, scroll past or just ignore – equally mature. I respect these choices. I honor them. I give thanks for each and everyone in my circles who do this. You all are amazing! Mad love and respect for you all because we regularly exchange ideas and challenge one another.

It’s all fine until that one person you know stops by to troll. YES, troll! We all know that one person…or two or maybe more. The ones who have nothing to say when you get that promotion at work, or your kid does something great, or when you wreck your car, or when you are lonely or afraid. But express an opinion that differs from theirs and THEY ARE THERE!

Hey there trolls. How the hell are you? Let’s talk. Engage. Trade ideas. Brag about our kids and grandkids.

Trolls respond as trolls do with shrill screeching, yelling and name-calling.

I’m a snowflake?

Okay fine, I am a snowflake.

You think that will hurt me? Oh bitch please. I have been called much worse…in fact one of you actually was one of those who called me much worse back in the day. I forgave you then. You were just a punky kid then. Today you are an adult, an adult armed with the idea that this Republican administration gives you a pass to insult and name call anyone who does not agree with your opinions, your beliefs, your politics or the Administration that you voted for. Now who is the snowflake, really?

But go ahead, if it makes you feel better about yourself, your opinions, your politics, call me a snowflake.

I’m a snowflake…one tiny snowflake alone, so delicate, so fragile, so ethereal. No wonder you feel so brave with your trolling. And yet, let a billion of them come together through the majestic force of nature, they can screw up a whole city…highways, airports, businesses and schools.

Winter is coming my friends.

So is a snow day.

Get ready.

somewhere between

Today’s distraction from the destruction of America is midlife crises, aching joints, chronic pain, osteoarthritis, old lady problems, Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition and braids.

Really! These are the bright, shiny objects that I might allow myself to focus on rather than Senate Republicans show how easily that they can be bought by a newly minted Education Secretary who has no fucking clue; and how easily offended they can be upon hearing the words of the late Coretta Scott King. Poor little snowflakes!

Arguably, these might be issues in today’s news that deserve my time, my energy, my focus…and they have had that until…

Um, over 55? This? Well, okay, yes, this IS over 55 but come on, The Times UK! I will be 55 next month. Sure, I am struggling lately with osteoarthritis and chronic pain that makes me hate life; especially when I need to get something out from those cupboards under the counter or the kitchen sink or just get through a typical day. But I can still rock the pigtails here.

Instagram Likes tell me so.

And just as I settle in imagining that I remain forever young in spite of media’s perception of what 55 and over looks like and whether or not pigtails are appropriate for women of a certain age  or the fact that I literally can not crouch down or run or walk any distance…

there is Christie Brinkley. SIXTY THREE YEAR OLD Christie Brinkley in a bikini in Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.

Damn!

 

it’s beautiful, we’re beautiful

Did you see the big game? You know that there was a game, right? Alexander Hamilpup proved to be quite the MVP. Yeah, Brady also finally joined the big game with the Patriots in the 4th quarter and upset the Falcons. That was definitely NOT the outcome we wanted to see under The Big Top. But my son-in-law won $5 accurately predicting when Brady would get sacked in the game. Most of our family circus was together under The Big Top. Together we all ate way too much finger foods, watched the Puppy Bowl XI, Super Bowl LI, the original Schuyler Sisters celebrating America, brotherhood and sisterhood, Lady Gaga’s amazing halftime performance that was patriotic enough to make the Trumpkins happy with a healthy dose of protest in there too…“liberty and justice FOR ALL..No matter gay, straight, or bi, Lesbian, transgendered life…and enjoyed all of the silly and the sublime that were the Super Bowl ads. Some argued that the ads were disrespectful and trolling the 45th president, known as Lord Dampnut here under The Big Top; but they were actually the sane and good things about America that makes us great…which might seem like trolling when one considers what the actual fuck has happened in the last two weeks in America. But this is where we are in Lord Dampnut’s America – and commercials that celebrate American values are an insult to him and the office.

Yeah.

Like the opening song and the halftime show, what I saw was a celebration of the diversity, the drive, the can-do spirit that made America great before an angry man with the worst comb-over ever and his even angrier people declared it to not be so.

Coca Cola’s It’s Beautiful ad actually first aired during the Summer Games broadcast but it was still relative as it was one of the first ads to play during the big game. More followed as did all the ugly, angry comments all over social media. Honestly, people were more angry over these spots than the fact that it took more than 3 quarters before the Patriots and Brady finally started playing like it was a big game.

Hate all you want, but pretty much all of us came from somewhere before we arrived here. Thanks to my father in law’s hobby, I know that my darling husband’s ancestors came here from England, Scotland and Ireland mostly before the Revolutionary War. My ancestry hails too from England as well as Germany, France, Switzerland and Scandinavia. Pretty much all of us come from immigrants fleeing religious persecution, famine, ethnic cleansing, poverty to seek something better. Some of us also came here against our will in chains. Like Budweiser’s Born the Hard Way ad, our people were likely greeted with a mix of open arms and outright hate, as it seems today. All of us, literally all of us, unless we are 100% Native American, came from somewhere else and, it’s beautiful. We are beautiful. America is beautiful.

And, were it not for an immigrant coming to America in THIS century looking for something better, my youngest child, my favorite son, would not be here right now calling me “Mom”.

THAT is truly beautiful!