I currently have no person in my life whose finger I would stick in my mouth! Nope, not a soul. Now I know that this connection may not be so obvious but danged... common peeps...
There are many people who I love and/or like that do some gross stuff in/to the common food and drinks. I want to first acknowledge that what you do with you and yours is entirely up to you and I REALLY don't want to know. But when it comes to the whole of us, the group, the gang, the gaggle, the crew, the bunch, would you refrain from sticking your fingers in the communal food? Please don't 'just grab a few fries' off my plate. I hate the wave of revulsion I feel at your having put your fingers in my food, the desire to stab you with my fork and now my meal being near ruined.
DO NOT stick your frickin finger in the dip, soup, frosting what have you "just to taste it". I swear to you that when I cook I NEVER do that. It is an integrity thing to me. I know you think your hands are clean since you were just in the bathroom and thoroughly washed them, turned the bathroom door handle with your pristine hands, gave the dog's head a pat, ran your fingers through your hair, gave your mobile a quick peek and are now suspended over the common plate feeling oh so clean. YOU ARE NOT. Sheesh!
While we are at it. Just because you are 'stuffed' with half the food left on your plate DO NOT shove your plate toward me and ask if I want some. I really do not want to witness any aspect of that sort of 'sharing' unless you are offering your food to your mate in which case that is the extent of your intimacy I want to enjoy. No I do not want a bite off of your already knawed on anything.
Also, a large size bag of whatever is being shared needs to be poured out of not dug in to. Let's pretend that we are all wait staff at a restaurant and really did pay attention to our food handlers class and really believe we are honoring our customers.
Hmmm, it is kind of like the idea of doing the right thing when no one is looking, okay?
Please don't ask me for a sip of my anything, okay? Unless of course I would put your finger in my mouth...
Monday, December 26, 2011
Things ain't what they used to be...
Alrighty then! Let's just get to it...
My over $2000 bed that is less than 2 years old is one big sag hole! A big ol' piece of lumpage! I am so over it. I did my research and oh what glowing reviews, "it slices, it dices, it cradles, it rocks..." whatev, it ain't worth the money!
There are just certain things that are all but impossible to find quality and so far they are:
Top of the list and currently most annoying - mattresses. No longer my grandma's great mattress that I helped her 'flip' like it was a pancake just golden brown. Nope, about every year I find that my bed is giving me backache and I am stuck in what amounts to a hammock. Then for the next year or two I tell myself big lies such as, "this is a very good quality mattress it cannot be failing already", "the reviews were so good on this mattress clearly it is my posture", "no way is it time to replace this thing, it looks brand new" blah, blah, blah until I finally break down and buy a yet another 'high end' name brand bed with a "lifetime" or "25 yr" warranty. The problem is that the sag in the bed has to be 4-6 inches deep before the warranty is 'upheld'. Well, it is only taking 2 inches of dip to make my ass ache! No more, mattresses have now joined the ranks of items that I will no longer pay big dollars for expecting longevity. I will buy inexpensive and see if I can get a year or two.
Vaccuum cleaners. Nope. No more vaccuums of my childhood that looked like antiques by the time I was born. They just kept going and going and going... if they weren't working you changed the belt or bag, plugged it in and we were back in the saddle.I have tried Windmakers, Suction Riders, Crumb Grabbers and more for $700 - $1200 in hopes that I would find a vaccuum cleaner like dear old mom had. Forget about it. Even servicing the plastic gadgetry costs more than it is worth, and the filters, belts, dual hepa blah blah bags are a fortune. Now. I will spend $100 max, maybe used - except ick the bed bug thing - no new, $100 and hope for the best.
Blenders. I remember having the same danged avocado green blender my entire childhood! For goodness sakes it never died! As an adult I kept trying to get a topnotch blender that would last well, at least my lifetime. For a while there I was again in denial. Especially in that, like most U.S. families today there is a food processor and a grinder so the blender is really only for smoothies. The danged thing oughta last a long time! Nope. Finally, at least 5 over $80 highly rated blenders the last of which didn't even give 10 blends (you already know I didn't have the danged box!). No more than $20 for a blender, when it bites it bites...
Televisions. I will bet the first t.v. I ever owned is still alive somewhere... Why did I need bigger and better which turned out not to be better at all. They just get worse and worse. This morning I discovered that the 40 whatever inch living room t.v. cannot connect with the d.v.d. player due to one of the inlets or whatever they are called has 'failed'. Not going to do a doggone thing about it. When that bells and whistles jerk plays out I will replace with something that costs no more than $200.
Coffee pots, toasters, mixers, electric knives - nope, all crap... $20 max going forward.
Nothing spellls disgusting consumer like all of the above. Maybe I can find our old avocado blender in a thrift store for $5.
My over $2000 bed that is less than 2 years old is one big sag hole! A big ol' piece of lumpage! I am so over it. I did my research and oh what glowing reviews, "it slices, it dices, it cradles, it rocks..." whatev, it ain't worth the money!
There are just certain things that are all but impossible to find quality and so far they are:
Top of the list and currently most annoying - mattresses. No longer my grandma's great mattress that I helped her 'flip' like it was a pancake just golden brown. Nope, about every year I find that my bed is giving me backache and I am stuck in what amounts to a hammock. Then for the next year or two I tell myself big lies such as, "this is a very good quality mattress it cannot be failing already", "the reviews were so good on this mattress clearly it is my posture", "no way is it time to replace this thing, it looks brand new" blah, blah, blah until I finally break down and buy a yet another 'high end' name brand bed with a "lifetime" or "25 yr" warranty. The problem is that the sag in the bed has to be 4-6 inches deep before the warranty is 'upheld'. Well, it is only taking 2 inches of dip to make my ass ache! No more, mattresses have now joined the ranks of items that I will no longer pay big dollars for expecting longevity. I will buy inexpensive and see if I can get a year or two.
Vaccuum cleaners. Nope. No more vaccuums of my childhood that looked like antiques by the time I was born. They just kept going and going and going... if they weren't working you changed the belt or bag, plugged it in and we were back in the saddle.I have tried Windmakers, Suction Riders, Crumb Grabbers and more for $700 - $1200 in hopes that I would find a vaccuum cleaner like dear old mom had. Forget about it. Even servicing the plastic gadgetry costs more than it is worth, and the filters, belts, dual hepa blah blah bags are a fortune. Now. I will spend $100 max, maybe used - except ick the bed bug thing - no new, $100 and hope for the best.
Blenders. I remember having the same danged avocado green blender my entire childhood! For goodness sakes it never died! As an adult I kept trying to get a topnotch blender that would last well, at least my lifetime. For a while there I was again in denial. Especially in that, like most U.S. families today there is a food processor and a grinder so the blender is really only for smoothies. The danged thing oughta last a long time! Nope. Finally, at least 5 over $80 highly rated blenders the last of which didn't even give 10 blends (you already know I didn't have the danged box!). No more than $20 for a blender, when it bites it bites...
Televisions. I will bet the first t.v. I ever owned is still alive somewhere... Why did I need bigger and better which turned out not to be better at all. They just get worse and worse. This morning I discovered that the 40 whatever inch living room t.v. cannot connect with the d.v.d. player due to one of the inlets or whatever they are called has 'failed'. Not going to do a doggone thing about it. When that bells and whistles jerk plays out I will replace with something that costs no more than $200.
Coffee pots, toasters, mixers, electric knives - nope, all crap... $20 max going forward.
Nothing spellls disgusting consumer like all of the above. Maybe I can find our old avocado blender in a thrift store for $5.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Shut Up Cosby
Shut Your Bone Hole Bill Cosby!
Sheesh! I just watched the lip flappin’ Cosby visiting recent flood victims. He was talking to an old woman devastated by recent tornadoes and floods in the south. He actually said in the most patronizing, paternalistic tone, “You know God does what?” Come on finish the sentence…” “Come on…” Finally someone, maybe the woman herself said, “helps themselves.”
Okay, let’s set the record straight: God did not say that! There is no scripture in the bible as we know it that even implies, much less directly states, that “God helps those who help themselves”. While we are on the subject, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness” is not biblical either. Um, “God don’t like ugly”. Nope, not there.
Anyway, what the hell is Cosby on a tear about. I know that he is frustrated with various ‘elements’ in black America. Aren’t we all? There are all manner of things I’d like to change but ultimately we all have to walk our own walk and talk our own talk.
Antagonizing people usually does not promote change. Denigrating people usually is not helpful either.
Good for Cosby that he can afford to support his lifestyle including his infidelity or infidelities. The have is talking smack to the have nots or those whose gain is ill gotten (his outburst about baybay’s kids and sagging). Really? Shut up Bill Cosby. Your credibility is on the line too! The difference between you and ‘the elements’ is money.
Sheesh! I just watched the lip flappin’ Cosby visiting recent flood victims. He was talking to an old woman devastated by recent tornadoes and floods in the south. He actually said in the most patronizing, paternalistic tone, “You know God does what?” Come on finish the sentence…” “Come on…” Finally someone, maybe the woman herself said, “helps themselves.”
Okay, let’s set the record straight: God did not say that! There is no scripture in the bible as we know it that even implies, much less directly states, that “God helps those who help themselves”. While we are on the subject, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness” is not biblical either. Um, “God don’t like ugly”. Nope, not there.
Anyway, what the hell is Cosby on a tear about. I know that he is frustrated with various ‘elements’ in black America. Aren’t we all? There are all manner of things I’d like to change but ultimately we all have to walk our own walk and talk our own talk.
Antagonizing people usually does not promote change. Denigrating people usually is not helpful either.
Good for Cosby that he can afford to support his lifestyle including his infidelity or infidelities. The have is talking smack to the have nots or those whose gain is ill gotten (his outburst about baybay’s kids and sagging). Really? Shut up Bill Cosby. Your credibility is on the line too! The difference between you and ‘the elements’ is money.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Gawkers and Gapers
Gaping = staring, open-mouthed
Gawking = staring stupidly at something
Okay, I have finally figured out what is chapping my hide so.
I am deeply unsettled at the notion that I am from a country of gawking and gaping. I want to say it isn’t so, I want it to go away but alas it is not and will not and is only getting worse.
Mind you getting to the facts of the matter was a great exercise for me. I had to ask myself - why am I so bothered by all of this reality TV., Charlie Sheen mania, royal wedding hoopla, glued to professional sports stuff not limited to all of the goings on surrounding all of it e.g. the wives, the steroids, the d.v., the whole shebang.
It was as though the lights came on and I had arrived! It was all of the disgusting-despicable-get a Frickin life of your own- how do you have time for such malarkey- people are starving- how crazy can you be madness that inevitably brought me to: there is something so thoroughly unappealing about the spectators on/of other people’s lives. It begs the eternal, “what the hell are you here for”… I mean, sucking up air, space and resources in general only to be off gassed while gawking and gaping…
Of course I took it to the next level and begged the question, Do those who are really living need spectators? I mean do the non-living need to be there to validate the rest? Um, nope. Don’t care who is watching I am going to be doing me. Well then, what purpose DO spectators serve? Ah! They are consumers of all things copycat! They are the drinkers of the kool-aid, the ones who will buy whatever their favorite athlete/singer/actor etc is selling! They drive our economy! Without the shamelessness of plebeians all of the floor shows televised and otherwise ‘in the news’ on a daily basis would have no meaning.
I wonder what percentage of humanity - well of humanity that can afford non-living e.g. don’t have to scrape out an existence day in and day, aren’t inundated with war and personal safety concerns everyday, can eat slop and swill at their leisure - are gapers and gawkers? Anybody care to take a guess?
Hmmm, how to help children know how to live, to see more value in their own lived experiences than in watching someone else’s… a new mission is born!
Gawking = staring stupidly at something
Okay, I have finally figured out what is chapping my hide so.
I am deeply unsettled at the notion that I am from a country of gawking and gaping. I want to say it isn’t so, I want it to go away but alas it is not and will not and is only getting worse.
Mind you getting to the facts of the matter was a great exercise for me. I had to ask myself - why am I so bothered by all of this reality TV., Charlie Sheen mania, royal wedding hoopla, glued to professional sports stuff not limited to all of the goings on surrounding all of it e.g. the wives, the steroids, the d.v., the whole shebang.
It was as though the lights came on and I had arrived! It was all of the disgusting-despicable-get a Frickin life of your own- how do you have time for such malarkey- people are starving- how crazy can you be madness that inevitably brought me to: there is something so thoroughly unappealing about the spectators on/of other people’s lives. It begs the eternal, “what the hell are you here for”… I mean, sucking up air, space and resources in general only to be off gassed while gawking and gaping…
Of course I took it to the next level and begged the question, Do those who are really living need spectators? I mean do the non-living need to be there to validate the rest? Um, nope. Don’t care who is watching I am going to be doing me. Well then, what purpose DO spectators serve? Ah! They are consumers of all things copycat! They are the drinkers of the kool-aid, the ones who will buy whatever their favorite athlete/singer/actor etc is selling! They drive our economy! Without the shamelessness of plebeians all of the floor shows televised and otherwise ‘in the news’ on a daily basis would have no meaning.
I wonder what percentage of humanity - well of humanity that can afford non-living e.g. don’t have to scrape out an existence day in and day, aren’t inundated with war and personal safety concerns everyday, can eat slop and swill at their leisure - are gapers and gawkers? Anybody care to take a guess?
Hmmm, how to help children know how to live, to see more value in their own lived experiences than in watching someone else’s… a new mission is born!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Prayer Answered!
Please indulge me while I take a trip to just one of those times in life when I believe God answered my prayer.
I was always a large child. The tallest and sometimes largest in class in elementary school. The girl who skipped right past the girl’s department and went straight for grown assed woman. This was before the time you could get tall and tall between pants so mine were all either high waters or men’s which fit me terribly since I already had a very female body. Clothes were not cute and shopping was a dismal nightmare filled with my mother’s angst, my frustration and my younger brother’s “I’m so bored I am going to die right here!” exclamations throughout the stores. Yes, shopping was put off until the very last possible moment each school year with the pickings’ slim and tensions high. Recipe for a tear filled event.
This particular day I was 10 years old and nearly 5’8” and YIKES I wore a size 10 shoe. 10 and 10. I was shocked to find myself in a size 10 woman’s shoe. It seemed like just a few months before I was a 7.5...
I had bee lined into the store to try to beat my mother to her ‘sensible’ and never wear out choices of some type or another which would include but not be limited to saddle oxfords, Doc Martin equivalents or some other indestructible-before-they-were-popular lug sole. Well lookey lookey. A lovely pair of two toned black patent with olive green suede shoes. I immediately asked for them in a 7.5. The shoe salesman brought them out and it was as though I was one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters. I could not squeeze, press, beg, stuff or otherwise cajole my gigantic hoof into that shoe. I asked for an 8. The salesman looked embarrassed for me and suggested we just give the foot slide rule situation a check. I remember being aware of my mom nearby saying things to both me and the salesman but me not listening, I was in shock, afraid to find out what size shoe I now wore.
She was holding the wretched rust/beige indestructible saddle oxford in her hand saying something while the salesman bent down and placed my big ol’ foot on the evil measuring slide. Loudly, “well, it looks like you were WAY off. Size 10. Yep. That’s a size 10, maybe a 10.5”. I was stricken. Whadinduhell??????? I remember getting that ’I’m about to cry’ feeling. I held up the patent/suede two toned situation and had the guts to ask for it in a size 10, well I had to recoup something of my dignity didn't I?! You should have seen those big skate board looking shoes! I don’t know if it was the 2 colors or the two different materials or what but those shoes looked like they were a size 16. Of course I tried it on. It fit. I INSISTED that I had to have them. I NEEDED them. My mom looked deflated and defeated and so wilted… she didn’t have it in her to insist on my trying more shoes bless her heart. Nor did she have it in her to tell me that they were the biggest most ridiculous shoes she had ever seen and that I would feel and look like bozo the clown with them on.
I had to go forward as though I was fine. I had to pretend that I wasn’t surprised or scared that me feet had grown gigantic in a matter of months. I had to pretend that I wasn't having thoughts of foot binding or what I could do to fold my toes back without breaking them.
When I got home I went to my room, knelt by the side of my bed and cried out to God, “Please God! Please! Don’t let my feet grow not another bit. Not at all. Not a micrometer. Oh, please God, they can’t grow anymore. Make them stop!” I wept. I stayed in my room for hours wondering about my future. Just how tall was I going to get. Could and would God stop my feet from growing more?
Some weeks later my picture taking aunt drove up excited to share her most recently developed film. There I stood in all my glory with the great, great, great big black and green shoes on. I don’t know if the dowdy skirt and half calf knee highs (because those were one size fits all then too so most of my sock calf was taken up in footage) really made it that much worse or not but they sure seemed to. Nobody said anything to me. They didn’t need to.
Within a matter of hours I had dragged my feet along every curb, every rock filled driveway and any brick I could find in my neighborhood and had those shoes thoroughly torn up. I came inside and announced that, “oops, my shoes were messed up”. My father made some comment about my being a ‘big foot woman’ which became one of his terms of endearment for me and my mom said, “Get in the car”. Silently she drove us back to the shoe store. Without a single word she waltzed in, asked for a pair of rust and beige saddle oxfords in a women’s size 10. Handed them to me to try on. Paid for them and told me to ‘get the bag’. Those danged shoes were so big and luggly. They were indestructible and I never outgrew them.
I still wear a size 10 shoe!
I was always a large child. The tallest and sometimes largest in class in elementary school. The girl who skipped right past the girl’s department and went straight for grown assed woman. This was before the time you could get tall and tall between pants so mine were all either high waters or men’s which fit me terribly since I already had a very female body. Clothes were not cute and shopping was a dismal nightmare filled with my mother’s angst, my frustration and my younger brother’s “I’m so bored I am going to die right here!” exclamations throughout the stores. Yes, shopping was put off until the very last possible moment each school year with the pickings’ slim and tensions high. Recipe for a tear filled event.
This particular day I was 10 years old and nearly 5’8” and YIKES I wore a size 10 shoe. 10 and 10. I was shocked to find myself in a size 10 woman’s shoe. It seemed like just a few months before I was a 7.5...
I had bee lined into the store to try to beat my mother to her ‘sensible’ and never wear out choices of some type or another which would include but not be limited to saddle oxfords, Doc Martin equivalents or some other indestructible-before-they-were-popular lug sole. Well lookey lookey. A lovely pair of two toned black patent with olive green suede shoes. I immediately asked for them in a 7.5. The shoe salesman brought them out and it was as though I was one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters. I could not squeeze, press, beg, stuff or otherwise cajole my gigantic hoof into that shoe. I asked for an 8. The salesman looked embarrassed for me and suggested we just give the foot slide rule situation a check. I remember being aware of my mom nearby saying things to both me and the salesman but me not listening, I was in shock, afraid to find out what size shoe I now wore.
She was holding the wretched rust/beige indestructible saddle oxford in her hand saying something while the salesman bent down and placed my big ol’ foot on the evil measuring slide. Loudly, “well, it looks like you were WAY off. Size 10. Yep. That’s a size 10, maybe a 10.5”. I was stricken. Whadinduhell??????? I remember getting that ’I’m about to cry’ feeling. I held up the patent/suede two toned situation and had the guts to ask for it in a size 10, well I had to recoup something of my dignity didn't I?! You should have seen those big skate board looking shoes! I don’t know if it was the 2 colors or the two different materials or what but those shoes looked like they were a size 16. Of course I tried it on. It fit. I INSISTED that I had to have them. I NEEDED them. My mom looked deflated and defeated and so wilted… she didn’t have it in her to insist on my trying more shoes bless her heart. Nor did she have it in her to tell me that they were the biggest most ridiculous shoes she had ever seen and that I would feel and look like bozo the clown with them on.
I had to go forward as though I was fine. I had to pretend that I wasn’t surprised or scared that me feet had grown gigantic in a matter of months. I had to pretend that I wasn't having thoughts of foot binding or what I could do to fold my toes back without breaking them.
When I got home I went to my room, knelt by the side of my bed and cried out to God, “Please God! Please! Don’t let my feet grow not another bit. Not at all. Not a micrometer. Oh, please God, they can’t grow anymore. Make them stop!” I wept. I stayed in my room for hours wondering about my future. Just how tall was I going to get. Could and would God stop my feet from growing more?
Some weeks later my picture taking aunt drove up excited to share her most recently developed film. There I stood in all my glory with the great, great, great big black and green shoes on. I don’t know if the dowdy skirt and half calf knee highs (because those were one size fits all then too so most of my sock calf was taken up in footage) really made it that much worse or not but they sure seemed to. Nobody said anything to me. They didn’t need to.
Within a matter of hours I had dragged my feet along every curb, every rock filled driveway and any brick I could find in my neighborhood and had those shoes thoroughly torn up. I came inside and announced that, “oops, my shoes were messed up”. My father made some comment about my being a ‘big foot woman’ which became one of his terms of endearment for me and my mom said, “Get in the car”. Silently she drove us back to the shoe store. Without a single word she waltzed in, asked for a pair of rust and beige saddle oxfords in a women’s size 10. Handed them to me to try on. Paid for them and told me to ‘get the bag’. Those danged shoes were so big and luggly. They were indestructible and I never outgrew them.
I still wear a size 10 shoe!
Sorry! sorry! sorry!
Sorry, sorry, sorry!
Okay my peeps! I quit submitting stuff because I was feeling like Debbie Downer! I am happy to continue if you are happy to join me in my goings on…
Here’s some stuff that’s working me over:
1 - The Royal Frickin Wedding. Let’s start with the fact that I wish them well. Many happy, healthy, lovely blah blahs… as I wish every marrying and/or married couple. Ain’t that ‘nough said? Do we need to focus on it for even one more second?
2 - K. The Middle East. Can we all pray, send some positive energy, juju, love, peace vibe? I am hurtin’ for the human spirit. That drive, desire, thirst to be free. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t want freedom. I don’t know anyone who does not want to try to create the nature of their own reality. They aren’t just acting up/out they are crying freedom. God be with them.
3 - Reality TV. doing whatever with the stars and all of the other faux TV. that people spend their precious time and energy checking out of their own reality for ought to be telling us something about our collective pain, numbness or lack of participation in each others’ existence. I know that I would rather spend my evening with you - listening to your stories, hearing about your life, being sad, happy, angry, joyful than I would sitting in front of the mindlessness that checks us out of life. Any day. Everyday. I’d rather be with someone I care about than zoned out in front of the box.
4 - Gang stuff. Here is something that blew my mind. I was seated next to a most enjoyable young woman on a recent flight. It didn’t take long before we were talking about life stuff. She was attempting relocation back to the west coast, preferably Oregon. She explained that she is originally from a town right near the Arctic Circle where a ‘trip to town’ is a two day venture. I was very curious about her existence there which she happily shared with me. Ah, Aurora Borealis… one day… one day… Sarah ‘Gosh Darned Nuts’ Palin and what the regular folks in Alaska think of her and day to day life. She told me that some days they get 3 to 4 hours of light and other things we all know about Alaska but wait - get this - she talked about how her town of approximately 8,000 had gotten overwhelmed with what to do about their GANG problem. Yes, I said it, their lip flippin’ gang problem! Go figure.
5 - There is a part of me that wants to ask what the world is coming to but I needn’t bother… the writing is on the wall and it ain’t pretty. Hell in a hand basket! I don’t even feel doom and gloom. I am more of a mind to live it up! Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we shall die! Care to dance anyone? I may not be a star but I am fun and I will be fully present with and for you. Will you for me… “If that’s all there is my friend, let’s keep dancing”. I don’t feel like looking up that lyric to quote it properly. I need to dance.
Okay my peeps! I quit submitting stuff because I was feeling like Debbie Downer! I am happy to continue if you are happy to join me in my goings on…
Here’s some stuff that’s working me over:
1 - The Royal Frickin Wedding. Let’s start with the fact that I wish them well. Many happy, healthy, lovely blah blahs… as I wish every marrying and/or married couple. Ain’t that ‘nough said? Do we need to focus on it for even one more second?
2 - K. The Middle East. Can we all pray, send some positive energy, juju, love, peace vibe? I am hurtin’ for the human spirit. That drive, desire, thirst to be free. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t want freedom. I don’t know anyone who does not want to try to create the nature of their own reality. They aren’t just acting up/out they are crying freedom. God be with them.
3 - Reality TV. doing whatever with the stars and all of the other faux TV. that people spend their precious time and energy checking out of their own reality for ought to be telling us something about our collective pain, numbness or lack of participation in each others’ existence. I know that I would rather spend my evening with you - listening to your stories, hearing about your life, being sad, happy, angry, joyful than I would sitting in front of the mindlessness that checks us out of life. Any day. Everyday. I’d rather be with someone I care about than zoned out in front of the box.
4 - Gang stuff. Here is something that blew my mind. I was seated next to a most enjoyable young woman on a recent flight. It didn’t take long before we were talking about life stuff. She was attempting relocation back to the west coast, preferably Oregon. She explained that she is originally from a town right near the Arctic Circle where a ‘trip to town’ is a two day venture. I was very curious about her existence there which she happily shared with me. Ah, Aurora Borealis… one day… one day… Sarah ‘Gosh Darned Nuts’ Palin and what the regular folks in Alaska think of her and day to day life. She told me that some days they get 3 to 4 hours of light and other things we all know about Alaska but wait - get this - she talked about how her town of approximately 8,000 had gotten overwhelmed with what to do about their GANG problem. Yes, I said it, their lip flippin’ gang problem! Go figure.
5 - There is a part of me that wants to ask what the world is coming to but I needn’t bother… the writing is on the wall and it ain’t pretty. Hell in a hand basket! I don’t even feel doom and gloom. I am more of a mind to live it up! Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we shall die! Care to dance anyone? I may not be a star but I am fun and I will be fully present with and for you. Will you for me… “If that’s all there is my friend, let’s keep dancing”. I don’t feel like looking up that lyric to quote it properly. I need to dance.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
We ain't scared of you God!
God Fearin’ Americans? That’s a Big Fat Lie!
I know a little bitty something about the God of Christianity - at least as the bible represents God. Based on what I read of scripture I am going to venture to say that:
God is no respecter of persons.
The earth is God’s and everything (everyone too?) in it.
Jesus, God incarnate, is pure unadulterated love.
God directs us to help each other - one and all - e.g. we are our sibling’s keeper like it or not.
God’s the potter, we are the clay. Some clay is made for noble purposes and some for common use. God determines that, yes?
There is one body and many parts. How can the hand tell the foot that it does not belong yadda yadda.
God has many sheep that are not of this sheepfold.
Jesus said, “As you do to the least of these you do to me” (paraphrased).
Oh my how I could go on… these are but a few of the things that I hold near and dear when I think of my faith… then I lose my, er, um, fervor shall we say when I:
Listen to Sarah Palin and other right wing, ‘tea party’ politicians carp about us becoming ‘socialists’… really? Is that because God calls us to take care of our poor and needy. Because God says that they will always be among us. We ain’t afraid of you God! If we were we would care for our poor people.
And the ‘Christians’ spewing their filth about having Muslims in their midst. A mosque in their neighborhoods. Demonstrating their rage and railing against their ‘fellow’ human beings. We ain’t scared of you God! If we were we would extend our hand and show love to them so that our joy would be full and you would be pleased.
Oh and our leaders turning a blind eye to the Pharisees (big business) while they hoard all of that filthy lucre in their storehouses - otherwise known as banks - for the moths to eat and for it to rust and rot being squandered hither and yawn instead of being used to see that children are fed and educated, people are sheltered and have medical treatment? We don’t fear you God! Ha! If we did we would experience extreme shame, put on sackcloth and ashes, weep mourn and wail, repent and spread the wealth! We are going to take our chances getting through the eye of that needle - cuz we ain’t scared of You!
Our mentally ill? Our less desirable ones? We warehouse them God. We don’t a little sumpin’ sumpin’ here and there to make ourselves think that we are being generous. We ‘give’ of our bounty - which boils down to a pittance. We blame them for their plight, their parents and anyone but ourselves for circumstance and self righteously go to our upscale homes, drink our pretentious wine, eat our frivolous foods and scoff at the pathetic dregs. We ain’t scared of you God! You keep blessin’ us don’t you?
God just so you know… we are the boss of everything we Americans, You are not. We give lip service to submitting to you but we both know we don’t mean it deep down where it counts. After all, you gave us all of this might and power to use cuz you think that we are the REAL chosen ones right God? And we think the Jews are darned fine folk since they know you too - in their weird Old Testament kinda way… I mean sheesh God. We are practically so great that we didn’t need to be saved! What? What do you mean maybe we are not?
I know a little bitty something about the God of Christianity - at least as the bible represents God. Based on what I read of scripture I am going to venture to say that:
God is no respecter of persons.
The earth is God’s and everything (everyone too?) in it.
Jesus, God incarnate, is pure unadulterated love.
God directs us to help each other - one and all - e.g. we are our sibling’s keeper like it or not.
God’s the potter, we are the clay. Some clay is made for noble purposes and some for common use. God determines that, yes?
There is one body and many parts. How can the hand tell the foot that it does not belong yadda yadda.
God has many sheep that are not of this sheepfold.
Jesus said, “As you do to the least of these you do to me” (paraphrased).
Oh my how I could go on… these are but a few of the things that I hold near and dear when I think of my faith… then I lose my, er, um, fervor shall we say when I:
Listen to Sarah Palin and other right wing, ‘tea party’ politicians carp about us becoming ‘socialists’… really? Is that because God calls us to take care of our poor and needy. Because God says that they will always be among us. We ain’t afraid of you God! If we were we would care for our poor people.
And the ‘Christians’ spewing their filth about having Muslims in their midst. A mosque in their neighborhoods. Demonstrating their rage and railing against their ‘fellow’ human beings. We ain’t scared of you God! If we were we would extend our hand and show love to them so that our joy would be full and you would be pleased.
Oh and our leaders turning a blind eye to the Pharisees (big business) while they hoard all of that filthy lucre in their storehouses - otherwise known as banks - for the moths to eat and for it to rust and rot being squandered hither and yawn instead of being used to see that children are fed and educated, people are sheltered and have medical treatment? We don’t fear you God! Ha! If we did we would experience extreme shame, put on sackcloth and ashes, weep mourn and wail, repent and spread the wealth! We are going to take our chances getting through the eye of that needle - cuz we ain’t scared of You!
Our mentally ill? Our less desirable ones? We warehouse them God. We don’t a little sumpin’ sumpin’ here and there to make ourselves think that we are being generous. We ‘give’ of our bounty - which boils down to a pittance. We blame them for their plight, their parents and anyone but ourselves for circumstance and self righteously go to our upscale homes, drink our pretentious wine, eat our frivolous foods and scoff at the pathetic dregs. We ain’t scared of you God! You keep blessin’ us don’t you?
God just so you know… we are the boss of everything we Americans, You are not. We give lip service to submitting to you but we both know we don’t mean it deep down where it counts. After all, you gave us all of this might and power to use cuz you think that we are the REAL chosen ones right God? And we think the Jews are darned fine folk since they know you too - in their weird Old Testament kinda way… I mean sheesh God. We are practically so great that we didn’t need to be saved! What? What do you mean maybe we are not?
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