Wake Up California

Borrowed from http://www.jerrybrown.org/

The governor’s race is upon us and one commercial has started. Watch out for this woman: Meg Whitman. Oh, she won’t tell you which party she represents (but considering that Jerry Brown is the Democrat running one can only presume) … noooo. But, what she will tell you is that she tried to get the McCain/Palin ticket elected. What does this mean??? This means she thought Palin was a good VP candidate. Are you rolling your eyes yet? Well, get your money out and donate to Jerry Brown

Do not let what happens to California a lot of the time happen this time. Where we get caught with our pants down because we think how could Meg Whitman possibly get elected? Who would vote for her? Need I remind you of Prop 8??? The money will be pouring in from outside the state. POURING IN! Get involved NOW and make sure we do not watch election day with tears in our eyes scratching our head. Pull it together people. California is a mess right now and we do not need someone who thinks Sarah Palin in all of her glory was a good option for this country. Jerry Brown has done some great things for the state. He has always been very vocal about white collar crime and the evils of it.

Howard Zinn … A People’s Historian

Howard Zinn passed away right before he was set to speak at the Santa Monica Museum of Art. Zinn’s book “A People’s History” changed my life. It is the only history book that actually spoke to me and my heart. This sentiment has been shared by every person I have ever met who has picked up the book. Zinn sought out and accomplished a history book that spoke from the People’s perspective. A perspective that has been consistently lost throughout the telling of history. Reading this book made me realize that it is the people who change our lives not the figures we attribute the the change to. This book helped me realize that we all make a difference no matter how small the action and that if we choose to we can make a big difference to those around us.

Rest in Peace Howard. Thank you for your ever lasting gift to us.

Borrowed from: http://howardzinn.org/default/

The Un-Supreme Court

Our newest set of Justices ... or Un-Justices

The Supreme Court has ruled in a 5 – 4 decision that a corporation is essentially a person. Even though a corporation cannot die, cannot go to jail for its wrong doings (think Enron, AIG) and cannot legally vote … yet. It’s disgusting. It is infuriating. It is beyond corruption. It is against everything a democracy stands for. What is most shocking is Scalia, who prides himself as a strict constitutionalist, joined Justice Kennedy in this decision and wrote a concurring opinion.

I am attaching a link of a growing movement. I know there is almost too much going on with the world to look at yet another issue that needs attention. But, in the event you want to take action check out this link: Move To Amend

Haiti, the economy, the banks, the government and just life in general … I know. It’s a lot. But, at a minimum you must keep yourself informed so in the event you have the time to join a cause at least you know what is out there.

Lets keep our eyes open people.

Haiti

The devastation is almost unbelievable. I was watching CNN and Anderson Cooper’s report. They were piling the dead on top of each other because there is no where else to put them. Think about it. There are people who will never be able to bury their loved ones or even say goodbye to them because they are gone and unidentifiable. I cannot even imagine what the Haitian people are feeling right now or even if they are able to feel yet. Devastation can make people turn off their emotions while they rush to help others. We can only help that the Haitian people feel our love and support as they try to cope with the many years ahead of them.

Chris and I do not have a lot of money, but we are donating $200.00 to a relief fund. I hope you will donate what you can and it you just don’t have the money…. send an extra prayer.

p.s. Rush Limbaugh and Pat Roberston are douchebags

Part 4, Chapter 3

Borrowed from WoosterScott.com

Kindergarten is a right of passage for most children. Our little school in Hidden Valley was a wonderland for me and it was also the first place I discovered what an awkward child I was (but in a good way).  My dad decided because this was a big day for both of us he would drive me to school and skip daycare. Spending more time with my dad was always a plus and something I cherished. I was without doubt a daddy’s girl. My dad made me breakfast which was his childhood favorite, white rice, sugar, butter and milk. We ate together listening to John Lennon’s newly released Double Fantasy while my dad sang “Beautiful Boy” changing the lyrics to Beautiful Girl. He brushed out my thick hair while my eyes watered in pain and let me pick out a mismatched outfit of tan corduroy pants with a koala shirt. We got into his blue Monte Carlo with the continuing music of “Watchin the Wheels” in the background. My dad held my hand as I cuddled up next to him on the blue dusty seats.

We pull up to the side parking lot closest to the classroom which was the long way to the campus. The fear set in as my dad killed the engine. A child’s anxiety is different from an adults in that a child does not have as much experience to draw on but it is also more terrifying because a child has raw imagination. The gravel cracked under our feet and my hand was sweating in my dad’s hand as we walked to the classroom. Mrs. Rowe greeted us with a big smile, short blonde hair, blue eyeliner, blue mascara and a gold chain which bounced off of her shirt that clung onto her glasses. She was not someone I liked immediately. She seemed strict and succinct in her dicta; she barely addressed me. Mrs. Rowe was busy wondering where this child’s mother was as she showed us around the classroom and my dad was trying not to be affected by her obvious judgment. I did not spot any toys that caught my wonder but I did catch familiar faces from the daycare. I looked up at my dad for permission to be released from his grip so I could head out to the playground. He bent down, told me to behave and then released me to a group of little people who I would journey through life with all the way to high school.

I watched kids flip from the bars, sway their bodies to glide across the monkey bars, kick balls, throw balls and run from each other in pure delight. There were 18 of us total and even though we were pint size we felt HUGE on our first day of school. Allegra was there from daycare but she was busy showing the boys who was boss by kicking the ball further, running faster and pushing harder than any of them could hope to compete with. I spotted another blonde haired innocent who was alone and just observing the rest of the kids on the sidelines as I was. She was more like me. Introverted preferring to be invisible while walking through the children. We connected instantly. Marion was a girly girl. She liked dolls, dresses and all things pretty. She was delicate and quiet but as we held hands through the play ground she was my new best friend; to a small insecure girl, anyone who paid attention you was in fact your new best friend. We climbed to the top of the jungle gym and delighted in the birds flying above, at the sighting of the school neighbor taking her horse for a walk across the field and at the clouds running past our heads. When it was time to start class we insisted on sitting on the mat next to each other.

Mrs. Rowe introduced us to the rules of the room which were basically: if you get out of line, you will sit in the corner. We had stations of learning reading, math, spelling and nap time. If you completed each station successfully, there could be a prize…. bubble gum! I had a head start on most of the kids in reading. The family story is that I taught myself to read and by 18 months old I was spelling too. So, when it came time to sit at the reading or spelling station I shined as I reaped in the booty. This served me well for bringing me out of my shell since I was happy to give it away. Sugar never really excited my picky taste buds so I was more than happy to trade it for attention from my 17 classmates. One child in particular that seemed adept at instantly knowing my weakness for friendship and wanted my bubble gum was Erida. Erida was a child who I was friends with on and off throughout my life. All of my memories of her are soured pain because she was a cunning bully. Highly intelligent but completely unable to empathize with anyone unless they were giving her what she wanted; she was a person who alway made people feel bad about themselves and I was a consistent victim of hers. She was probably one of the coldest people I have ever met and it always amazed me how much people accepted her (and still do). She and I were forced friends because of our proximity of homes, the fact that her mother was a stay at home mom so my dad always could locate a babysitter when needed under the guise of playing at her house and because she was able to manipulate me constantly into making me feel less than her which she delighted in. There would come a point in our lives where I saw opportunities to hurt her as much as she had always hurt me and I jumped at them. It’s not something I am proud of but I always found it perplexing how Erida was so smart and yet confused at my betrayal of her.

As I think back to my classmates, I recall the lack of childhood diagnosis available. We did not have an option to label a child ADHD, conduct disorder or depressed. The kid was just simply unruly or odd. Why did Arthur put ketchup on his head during lunch time (and no I am not kidding. There really was a child who one year our senior who was so disturbed and angry he used to put ketchup on his head)? As a child you do not think about these things because at age 5 it just does not matter. With the exception of Erida, a 5 year old has not learned to be cruel and is not trying to herd people into conformity. We were all innocent quirky children who were more than happy to be friends with each other. Even with Arthur who never seemed bathed and always on the brink of meltdown was accepted by his minor peers.

Kindergarten is the point of your life where you are socialized to the order of things. You start at the bottom of the food chain, work your way up and once you get to the top you are forced back down so you can climb back up again. Kindergarten you’re at the bottom, 6th grade you have worked your way up to the top, middle school put you right back down again, high school and the circle just keeps going on and on and on.

Another loss …

I’m so thankful to have such a big family on both sides but with a super sized family comes the inevitable face of loss frequently. My grandfather died on December 23, 2009. He was 88 years old, a World War II veteran, father of 7, grandfather to more than I can count and a great grand father. While this was not unexpected it still stings.

Another family gathering is being planned when after the snow melts. It will wonderful to see everyone, but unfortunate considering the circumstances. RIP Grandpa Franklin.

A quick hello and if ya don’t know now ya know

Hope everyone is enjoying their holiday …. I promise a new addition to the story is coming and I thank you for your patience as I deal with my inner issues. On a positive note, I have two things to report:

1) Mexico City may be passing a gay marriage law that would provide all of the same rights to gay couples as to hetero couples (with the exception of adoption …. still workin on that one with the church). Thank you to my friend Orlando for that update!

2) Houston, TX has elected an openly gay female mayor. Now before your eyes cross, I did type that correctly: HOUSTON TEXAS!. A big whooohoooo to them for looking at an openly gay individual no differently than an open hetero individual. More proof that who you love is no one’s business …. ask Tiger Woods on this one

3) Washington DC has passed marriage equality. This means California needs to get their head out of their butt’s and get on it.

See you soon!

Still Constipated

More than you needed to know? I’m not clogged as in I need more fiber in my diet constipated; I have a road block sitting in my head. I start to write and then I go crazy on the backspace key unhappy with the words I have laid down. I’m pushing and it is causing me mental hemorrhoids. To my knowledge there is no Preparation H for the brain, but maybe fiber isn’t a bad idea.

I contribute the clog to my busy schedule. The creative juices have been stalled because I have a lot going on right now in terms of change in my life …. all very good change though! But, in my heart of hearts I know it is not really the reason but a convenient excuse. So here is my come to Jesus to you: About this time of year 5 years ago I received an email from my Aunt Judy. We kept in touch infrequently mostly due to my emotional distance with my family. I had learned to protect myself from love at a young age even though I craved love. Love hurt you is what I had been educated on in life and so I was fairly adept at keeping people at a distance. So, Aunt Judy emails me with some troubling news about my mother. She was in the hospital and doing pretty bad. She was not sure she was going to survive. Now in my heart I knew she was telling me that if I wanted to see my mom, it had been 24 years, this would be the time and by the way you should see your mother. What I don’t think my family has ever understood about my relationship with my mother is how complicated and full of pain it was. I am sorry to say that I don’t remember a lot of joyous times with her. My memories are laced in a lot of confusion and pain over things she said to me. My mother and her siblings had lost their parents at a very young age and so I think they felt like I was cheating the opportunity they did not have with their parents. On the other hand, they were fully aware of my mother’s demons but probably not to the extent that she inflicted them on me. No one likes to believe bad things about loved ones.

So, I receive this email and I am emotionally stunned. Paralyzed I just sat there staring at the computer. I decided to call both of my dad’s separately for some advice. Both of them without hesitation jumped into “protect my daughter at all costs mode” at the mention of my mother. Both of them had felt her wrath at many points in their life and both had always attempted to shield me from just what she was capable of. Now remember, this is a woman who with all of the love in her heart was in more pain than I could ever imagine. And, she had been suffering this pain most of her life. What I am saying is that she was not a bad person, but she could do some pretty bad things. Both of my dad’s suggested I not go see her for two reasons: One, it would probably throw me into an emotional tail spin and Two, the guilt she would feel by seeing me would likely overwhelm her too. I decided that no matter what the circumstances were at this present time, I was not ready to see her and I needed to honor that feeling. This was not about her even though I was conflicted over the thought that she may need me and I may never get an opportunity to “see” her again. Conflicted because I am still the child and I was abandoned by her more times than I could count. I did not want to be a parent to her once again. I knew that would injure my spirit.

I decided not to go. She pulled through for about one month and then ended up back in the hospital passing away in December. I flew over there attempting to see her before she passed, but she died before I could get up there. Part of me regretted that and another part felt like it was for the best. Her whole death brings a lot of unresolved conflict into my little noggin. Because my family really did not “know” me, decisions were made.

We were all trying to take care of each other and ourselves at the same time and it was a mess. I could not possibly understand what they were going through losing their first sibling and unfortunately they did not understand what I was going through either …. because they did not know. Basically it was a terrible time for all of us and we did the best we could. I am without a doubt very fortunate to have all of my families support and I needed them at that time. Can you see the conflict? We did not really know anything about each other except through Christmas cards and the occasional email. It was weird. I had all of this love around me which was so touching but I felt so alone at the same time which was not an unusual feeling for me. I can only describe it as …. strange.

My point is this. Writing about my mother is very cathartic. It releases a lot of demons and it places memories into perspective as they relate to my current life. Writing about my mother is also painful. Some of my family reads these posts and while I try to remain raw with the descriptions because the story is the story (from my perspective), I am also trying to be respectful of their memory of her. They maintained a relationship with her. I did not.

So, I am backed up like a mildewy drain with 2 years of hair in the sink. Ewwwwww. I’m trying to get through it so I can get the story out, but I just ask you bare with me as I work through some feelings that have surfaced. The story shall continue when it is ready and until then I will try to place some anecdotal stories that would not otherwise make it in. Enjoy!

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my dad’s birthday and I wish him the best day filled with a reminder of all of life’s joy. My dad has a zest for life and an understanding of how important it is to remain child like in your approach to the unknown. He makes me laugh, he provides me comfort and he is unabashed in his display of love.

I love you da-da!!!

Acting Out

I typically distrust most of the political talking heads on television. My feeling is that most of them are muppets who are speaking on behalf of their owners … you know who they are. Their donors. Additionally, when corporations own the media outlets it’s difficult not to question why something is or is not being reported. I give you Fox News and MSNBC as prime examples. My faith in the judicial and political system is on the very low end of the spectrum, but I am not just a whiner. I actually do call and write the people who “represent” me and I exercise my right to vote, boycott, etc.

As I watched the debate on the House floor regarding the Health Care Reform Bill it dawned on me that this may not be a very good bill. Not because of what the lobbyist had written for the people speaking but more because no one was really saying anything at all. It’s difficult to figure out what people are fighting for when they make no sense. There is one news channel I feel does a good job on actually reporting and that is Democracy Now. Yes, they tend to slant towards the Liberal’s but for the most part they are right on point. So, this morning Representative Dennis Kucinich was on discussing why he did NOT vote for this bill. The sum of it is that it seems to provide incentives for insurance companies AGAIN and it says women absolutely cannot have an abortion paid for by a plan they pay for. Some nut job from Michigan, Bart Stupak added an amendment to the bill prohibiting insurers from providing any plan to allow abortions that is subsidized with government money. WTF? There was no provision in there on how to pay for the unwanted child but they never talk about that do they.

This is disheartening people. Small groups of people with a gang load of money in the United States have swayed this bill while many of are sitting wondering what this bill is in the first place. It’s a load of crap and if you think President Obama did not have anything to do with turning this into a pile of doo-doo you are wrong. His administration was reportedly the prime suspects in taking out the single payer option and Speaker Pelosi who used to be a defender of women’s rights was the one who gave in to the douche bag from Michigan.

Way to go people. Way to mother effin go. Guess it’s time to get out my pen and paper so I can write some letters.