Radio Silence

Okay...TWO political posts today.  Hell...In my race to the finish I can make or break any "rules" I want...

I had thought that my withdrawal from social media in reaction to the election results was unique to me...then I realized my social media friends seemed to have disappeared as well.  Now, I find that this type of reaction has been the rule rather than the exception.  Liberal pundits and personalities everywhere, those who were extremely vocal on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram before the election have, if not disappeared, at least dialed down the rhetoric by a power of 100.

It's guilt.  We all suspect that by adding to the pre-election frenzy and cacophony, we actually contributed to bringing about the thing we feared most.  We threw gasoline on the fire we sought to squelch.  So now we have just...shut up.

I'm not sure that's the best tactic.  Bad things are bound to happen with Cheeto Jesus at the helm of our ship of state...but worse things will happen if good people don't speak up.

Then again, I wonder...

If we take away the opposition...

If we don't give the Trump faithful a target, don't provide them with an argument to shout down...

Maybe they will have to actually turn around and focus on the man they elected.

And, since we all know how fickle is the voting public in this great country...

Maybe we can hope that THEY will take him down themselves when he doesn't give them exactly what they think he promised, exactly when they want it.

Not a likely scenario, I suppose...  But nevertheless a comforting thought in these troubled times. 

 

Tweeting Dangerously

I have kind of shut down on the political posts.  I, like everyone else, am shell-shocked, angry, confused, and very, very worried about what is going to happen in the next four years...perhaps even by the end of February.  It doesn't bear thinking--or writing--about. 

But Dan Rather HAS to keep his oar in.  Bleeding heart liberal old fart that he is, he's also a journalist who cut his teeth when journalism was still...a thing.  Saw this post by Rather on Facebook today, and even though I'm dedicated to avoiding that medium to the best of my ability, Rather's thoughts resonated with me...and this was my reaction:

Trump managed to tweet his way to just enough popularity to finegle his way on to arguably the largest stage on the planet. The whole world is watching him, now...and if he feels like he's not getting enough attention, he tweets bullshit like this. He's the five-year-old-in-chief (and he hasn't even taken office yet.) His psychopathic demand for all the attention all the time is what won him the presidency, and it is what makes him the most dangerous man to hold that office in centuries...possibly ever. I hope the world can survive his reign.

Bird Pic!

And did I mention I had a encounter with a Golden Eagle on Sauvie Island last week?

Opinions #3: Victim Blaming

I follow a blog called "Life in the Shoe."  It's written by a Mennonite lady, a minister's wife, mother of many fascinating, mostly-grown children, writer and columnist for the Eugene Register-Guard.  Dorcas is a woman I would love to meet, though I think she would probably be...uncomfortable with me.  Funny, we think of Mennonites as a closed, unworldly society...but this lady has had a much more expansive and exciting life than I will ever have.  She lives her faith utterly, yet that fact has not limited her or closed her mind.

Her posts always lead me on a voyage of contemplation.  Most recently, she wrote about "men who are not nice"--men who catcall and harass and are generally disrespectful to women, in public.  She wondered whether the conservative dress and prayer veil that Mennonite women wear in public protected them from that sort of harassment.  But she made a point about the power women have; the power they don't use...or, as I took it further in my own contemplation, the power they tend to misuse.  So many girls and women understand the power of their sex to be their ability to turn men into salivating, sex-enslaved dogs.  What we don't seem to comprehend is that we also have the power to command respect, courtesy and, yes, even chivalry.  All with how we dress.  And if we possess the power to calm the savage beast, why don't we use it? 

Sexual harassment, abuse, rape... all these have become problems of epidemic proportions in our society.  Sex in 21st-century America has become so overt, so in-your-face, so "everybody's getting it on and if you're not there's something wrong with you."  Men have begun to think they're entitled to sex, any kind, any way, any time they want.  And many women, not to be outdone, claim that entitlement as well. With all that sexual entitlement flying around, something has got seriously out of whack.  There's a growing subset of men who will take what they want with little provocation, much less an actual invitation.  And there are women who end up in situations they can't control because they dipped a toe into the sexual revolution only to be grabbed and pulled under by the evil that lurks just beneath the water.     

Am I victim blaming here?  I don't know.  I think the lines have become so blurred, the emotions surrounding the act have become so exaggerated, that it's almost impossible to use the label of "victim" when trying to sort out the players in the drama.

 Of course a woman never asks to be raped, or sexually assaulted, or verbally harassed.  In a perfect world, sex wouldn't always be the undercurrent of everything.  Women would be able to appear in public wearing whatever struck their fancy, whatever made them feel pretty.  I hear some people say that if a woman walks down the street stark naked,  she isn't asking to be raped.  I get that.  I really do.  But I think you have to put the "I have every right to..." aside and just see that actions have consequences.  Is it right that a man should get turned on by a woman wearing revealing clothing?  Probably not.  But what is "right" and what actually happens are two different things.  And women would do well to act in accordance with what IS if they want not to be harassed, or even raped.  Sorry, ladies.  You do stuff to protect yourself.  You don't jump into a pool of sharks wearing a pork-chop bikini and then sue the sharks when they bite your legs off.

I get that there is such a thing as date rape.  I get that guys will drug girls or take advantage of them when they get stupid drunk.  I get that a man is much stronger than a woman and can overpower her and take what he wants even when she's not into it.  But, I'm not one of those who thinks a girl should be able to go back to a guy's apartment, neck, pet, get undressed and get in bed with him, and then cry "rape" when the guy didn't stop because she said "no."  Is the guy entitled?  Of course not.  But if you didn't want to have sex, why the hell did you put yourself--and your date--in that position?  

Yes, mothers...you need to teach your sons not to rape.  But you also need to teach your daughters how to control this sexual freedom that we, their mothers and grandmothers, worked so hard to win for them.  Because, as it turns out, men are not interested in gracefully giving up their position of sexual dominance...or even sharing it.  A complication that I don't think any of us on the forefront of the Sexual Revolution foresaw.  And now we need to figure out how to deal with that.

Anyway, Dorcas shared her formula for raising strong young women who respect themselves:

     What I teach my girls is that they belong to God, their lives ought to reflect Jesus, and their bodies have the sacred role of being temples of the Holy Spirit.  So their clothes should communicate dignity, royalty, value, beauty, femininity, and respect. 

Somehow, that has also worked to protect them.

Surely, even without the Christian frame  of reference, there is universal wisdom in these words. 

Opinion #2: Cat Person/Dog Person

When I was growing up, our house was always crawling with animals:  a dog, a cat, budgies, canaries, hamsters, turtles, fish...  I wouldn't have the slightest idea how to function in a household occupied exclusively by humans.  By the time I had reached my teens, though, I had crystallized my allegiance to felines as the ideal companion animals. 

Cats are perfect:  Not demanding (most of the time), independent (most of the time), just affectionate enough to make one feel loved without being too clingy..  Beautiful, smart, funny, cuddly, playful...and able to self-entertain.  There were no better housemates for childless workaholics like my husband and myself.  Over the years, we've shared our home with nearly two dozen felines.

Dogs...well, dogs were never my favorites.  They were too...overt.  Completely without guile.   Sloppy, smelly, over-eager and demanding.  And it wasn't merely the dogs that were annoying.  It was their owners as well.  There are the ones who are dragged around by  a 150-pound behemoth over which they have no control; and the ones who have attached little "Muffie" to themselves by an invisible umbilical, dragging the tiny, shivering hound with them everywhere they go.  Why is it that dogs seem to bring out the worst in people?  Ninety percent of dog owners can't get their shit together when it comes to their canines; so dogs are generally obnoxious, annoying, or downright dangerous.  Not the dogs' fault, really.  Humans have done a bang-up job of totally screwing with this species with whom we have cohabitated for millennia.

So, yeah...cats.  As I write this, we share our home with six.  Two of whom are old and circling the drain, and there are days when I feel like the head nurse at the Raminiak Home For Geriatric Felines.  That's the price you pay for the love they give.

But you know...this card-carrying, rank and file cat person...

Lost her heart to one special, special dog.

And I miss her still. 

We Interrupt This Meme...

Today was the Solstice.  

I had my fire.  I rattled and I chanted and I incinerated representations of the things that No Longer Serve.  It was after I had done all those things, and was just sitting and contemplating the end of the old year and start of the new, that a startling Thing That No Longer Serves entered my mind.

Facebook.  Actually, social media in general, I suppose.  In the beginning, the infant social medium---in the form of AOL journals-- was a lifesaver for me.  In 2003, I was sad, alone, outcast from my family, pretty much friendless...  Social media, this blog in its original form, was an amazing gift...too good to be true, it seemed.  And so it was, in the end.

I stared into my fire and tried to come up with what positive contribution Facebook makes to my life today...and I have to admit:  I was pretty stumped.  It is, as it always has been, a great way to keep track of friends you don't get to see often.  But we all know it has been taken to a much more...intense?...level than merely keeping in touch.  And not an altogether healthy level, as recent events have clearly demonstrated.

So I'm not quite decided, yet, what to do with this discovery.  But I'm pretty sure some definite action is in the works.  Don't know that I'll cancel my account and walk away cold turkey...  That might be what I SHOULD do.  But I'll have to do some thinking, first, about whether and how I can reduce social media from addiction to useful, under control tool.  Something to shoot for in the year ahead...

Opinions #1: Get Over the Gluten-Free, Already...

Looks like I’ll be resorting to memes again in order to rack up some posts in my race to the finish line…  There’s one going around Facebook right now that requires one to list ten controversial non-political opinions.  I can do that…I seem to have an opinion about everything...!  One post for each of the ten.  And here’s the first:   

This one comes as no surprise (to whom?  The invisible audience? Sigh…)  The current pop culture rage against gluten is B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T.

Here’s the thing about bread and baked goods in general (the chief source of gluten in the Western diet)—They’re carbs, folks.  They’re an essential part of the human diet.  Our bodies were designed to metabolize them and convert them to energy.  And there’s nothing wrong with consuming carbohydrates.  Just ask any marathon runner.

Unfortunately, humans typically have problems balancing nutrients in their diets.  For some, it’s because the essential food groups might not be readily available in an economically disadvantaged culture.  For others, like Americans, it’s because we choose to consume more of some kinds of foods than others—whether for the sake of convenience or self-indulgence.  We tend to eat too many carbs—particularly wheat-based carbs, like bread, pasta and baked goods—because we like them.  Too many carbohydrates in the diet become basically empty calories.  We eat too much, we gain weight, and acquire all the physical woes associated with being overweight.  But that is not the carbs’ fault…and gluten certainly isn’t to blame.  It’s our own fault. 

Americans are lazy…no doubt about that.  We can’t be bothered to pay attention to what we put in our bodies…unless someone tells us that some food substance is dangerous.  Then we go off the deep end to avoid that thing.  And pressure the entire dining public to jump on our bandwagon…so that we don’t have to live forever all by ourselves, I guess.  We’re pathologically unable to eat properly unless we can indulge in some over-the-top, pop-culture demonization of some food substance.  That dubious honor has been conferred upon many things over the years…  Cholesterol, fat, high-fructose corn syrup, sugar of any kind…all the things in which we tend to indulge because they’re cheap, easy to get, and taste good.  But none of these—including gluten—is going to kill you or make you sick…if you consume them in the proper proportions pursuant to a balanced diet.

Yes, I know there is a sub-set of the human population that cannot digest or tolerate gluten.  That’s because there’s something wrong with them—they lack the enzymes to properly metabolize gluten, so it makes them sick.  I sympathize with those folks, and would never tell them they’re full of crap.  It’s always been difficult for these folks to feel comfortable eating at restaurants where hidden ingredients might actually make them sick.  But, you know what?  They didn’t demand that the restaurant industry tie itself in knots to accommodate their issues.  They became informed consumers, and either ate at home or went to places where they knew they could safely eat.

But adherents to this new pop-culture tirade against gluten don’t want to change what they eat…they just want to make sure it doesn’t have gluten in it.  They want their pizza, and spaghetti, and cookies, and bread, but they want it gluten free.  And if they can’t get it, the industry is going to hear about it—loudly and rudely.  After all, the service industry is all about accommodation, isn’t it?  If you can’t accommodate MY (totally unreasonable) demands, you don’t deserve to be in business. 

That’s where you’ve lost me, folks.  You want to be gluten-free?  Knock yourself out.  It won’t kill you.  You might even lose a few pounds.  But you need to learn to walk the walk—get OUT of the habit of consuming those carb-heavy foods, like bread and pasta.  And do not, for god’s sake, try to force everyone else at gunpoint to walk that walk with you.   In the immortal words of Yukon Cornelius:  “You eat what you like, and I’ll eat what I like.”  And let’s leave each other to our own choices, shall we?     

From a Distance

The Creator does not exert undue influence on the machinations of man.  We create our own distance from the Spirit of creation.  We can draw near, or we can be very far away.  It is our choice.

 

Right now, we as a nation, as a people, have chosen to dynamite a gigantic chasm between ourselves and the Almighty. 

 

Still, the Creator watches over us...from a distance.

 

From a distance
The world looks blue and green
And the snow capped mountains white
From a distance
The ocean meets the stream
And the eagle takes to flight

 

From a distance
There is harmony
And it echoes through the land
Its the voice of hope
Its the voice of peace
Its the voice of every man

 

From a distance
We all have enough
And no one is in need
And there are no guns, no bombs and no disease
No hungry mouths to feed

From a Distance
We are instruments
Marching in a common band
Playing songs of hope
Playing songs of peace
They are the songs of every man

 

God is watching us
God is watching us
God is watching us
From a distance

From a distance
You look like my friend
Even though we are at war
From a distance
I just cannot comprehend
What all this fightings for

From a distance
There is harmony
And it echoes through the land
And its the hope of hopes
Its the love of loves
Its the heart of every man

 

         God is watching us

         God is watching us

         God is watching us

         From a distance

Warning: Poisonous Introspection Ahead

Might as well make the blog my personal whine-fest, as long as no one's around...

"Retirement" has been a challenge.

It's been five years since the restaurant closed.  And at least a decade since I worked for anyone besides myself. But it seems that only recently have I figured out what appealed to me about being employed, though I hardly had a job in four decades of employed life where I wasn't at least semi-miserable.

To me, employment brought the new and wholly unfamiliar sense of being essential; the concept that there was something to be done that only I could do, and that it wouldn't get done if I was not there.  That could, of course, be taken too far...but when I was in management, I understood that part of my job was to make sure that the place could function without me.  In that case, THAT was the job only I could do, so it was all good.  Being necessary, being needed, is something I haven't experienced a whole lot in my life.  And it matters a great deal to me. 

I suppose it's partly a product of my birth order.  No one needed me for anything when I was a kid.  I was always the afterthought, the tagalong, the person that everyone HAD to deal with, but nobody wanted to deal with.  I brought nothing special to the table, growing up.  My sisters hung out with me because they had to, and as soon as they didn't have to anymore, they didn't.  It was right around then that I started working for a living, and everything changed.  Finally, there was a place where MY presence, MY skills, were needed and appreciated.  It was like a drug.  I couldn't get enough of it.  the more hours a week I had to spend at work, the happier I was.

Yeah, I met a young man and got married.  And that was a decent high, for many years.  Until, at some point, it was made clear to me that he didn't need me, either...  During the cafe years, when I began to get the sense that I was more of an obligation than an asset to my husband, that I was in fact the biggest drag in his life, but he put up with me anyway because he had to...  Well, the "being needed" part of being married kind of flew out the window and has never returned.

Now I'm semi-retired.  I have my own business that keeps me occupied about half the year.  And it needs me, I suppose...  But my business is, essentially, me.  No one else.  So it doesn't really count when YOU need yourself.  If I stopped showing up and the business went away, who would care? 

Ordinarily, I'm okay on my own.  At least 85% of the time, I would as soon be alone as in a crowd of people.  But that other 15% of the time...even though it is such a small part of my life as to be inconsequential, I need to be needed.  And that little essential chunk of motivation supports the entire rest of my life, it's what gives me a feeling of contentment and well-being.  Without it, I feel empty and off-balance. 

All the time.

And you can't MAKE people need you.  Or maybe you do. Maybe that's the problem.  You DO make people need you, if you're a decent, thoughtful, caring human being.  It's a passive thing, not an active thing.  People need you if you're worthwhile.  And if I've spent a lifetime never really being needed by the people in my life... Well, that kind of speaks for itself, doesn't it?     

In a Vacuum

Twenty-eight entries away from meeting the challenge I set for myself back in October.  Twenty-eight out of eighty-eight. Less than a third left to go.  Like passing the 18-mile mark in a marathon.

And now...now I'm doubting I can see this thing through to the end.  Every day, every post, even the ones I've posted links to on Facebook, I've been forced to assimilate the whole no readers, no comments thing.  At some point, I mostly got over that...except the one time I made the mistake of asking for feedback which of course was answered by that same chorus of crickets that has accompanied every other post.  I had to ask myself, what was I thinking on that one...

But today I reached a level of invisibility, of shouting my truth into a vacuum, that has just about done me in.  It was on Facebook...  I posted something and asked for people to join me in an effort to kick Trump in the shins.  Didn't get a like, or a comment, or even a second glance from anyone, I think.  When I post pictures, my friends dutifully "like" them.  But they don't want to hear anything else from me, don't want to know anything else about me.  Don't really want to belong to my community...or me to belong to theirs.  I have become completely irrelevant.  

So I have to ask myself:

What the hell am I doing here?

Maybe I can come up with 27 posts that attempt to answer that question.  Between now and New Years Eve.

In a vacuum.