“I spent my life folded between the pages of books. In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.” ― Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me
Showing posts with label because it's wrong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label because it's wrong. Show all posts
My god, what a history, sorely needed at a time like this.
In carefully, explicitly documented detail, the author lays out the horrifying, inexorable journey the American government took to Imperialist conquest of people who were seen by a white-centric public as lesser, undeserving of equitable freedoms or self-determination and stripping human dignity and life itself from tens of thousands of people. All in the name of “saving “ them from Spanish colonialism, the US blasted its way across Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines in a blood-spattered cloud of corruption and hubris. This history is still not well taught in American schools, but it is a history well known to those whose countries were permanently altered by it.
Like Suzy Hanson’s Pulitzer-finalist “Notes on a Foreign Country,” Jackson’s “Splendid Liberators” reveals with exquisite clarity why the United States is rightfully hated by much of the world. We need to know and understand this history. Without these stories, we Americans will continue to wither in ignorance on the vine of history, and deservedly so. The sickening truth is part of us, and illustrates our deep, carnal debt to those we have conquered in the name of democracy, but in truth were merely living flesh to feed our capitalist hunger, justified by an ethnocentric eugenicist ideology that stripped the humanity from those whose lands we lusted after, whose natural resources and strategic locations we coveted. Nothing more.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, for a free copy of the pre-release text in exchange for an honest review. I will be purchasing copies of this book for several friends and family members, because it is that important.
Interesting emotional romp thru the centuries. The ending was a bit of a let down, but otherwise the story is very good.
The reason I say the ending was a bit disappointing is because it feels as if the author expended all of her energy writing the book until the last 50 pages or so, and then rushed through to get it finished. Where for most of the book we get exquisite detail about situations that range from fox hunting to traveling through time, with well-developed characters a reader can truly want to get to know, and deliciously detailed descriptions of places and events, toward the end after a major, life-changing turn of events is starting to be reconciled, the story becomes little more than a quick by-rote narration of events, including some that are chaotic and emotionally damaging. Gone is the depth of feeling coupled with careful thought and analysis, in favor of a hair-raising churning through a family and friendship-wrecking series of experiences, galloping to an ultimately unsatisfying ending - all at once too brief and almost painful. It would have been better if the author perhaps took a break, thoroughly re-read the book to the point of the return from the multi-century foxhunt, and then carefully continued toward bringing the book to a satisfying close. If the point is, as it seems to be, for the main character to apply lessons learned from history, the same care and attention should have been paid to this portion of the book as was clearly taken in the first two-thirds.
The main character, a middle-aged woman named Pryor (which is a historical name in her family), but for some unknown reason goes by the nickname "Cig," is believable and interesting. She's widowed, self-contained, strong, and raising two teenagers with more than a little aplomb. But she's not perfect - far from it - but her flaws are not unmanageable, nor do they detract from her likability. The ensemble cast of characters is varied and authentic, and the plot for the most part flows smoothly and is easy to follow. Even when the story becomes a bit implausible, it is still very well written and therefore believable, which is the point, I believe.
The conflict that becomes the heart of the story between two sisters is very real, and Cig has long believed there is a truth that her sister Grace is hiding about what happened. In the end, the truth surprises everyone, and I'm not sure it's fully realized or acknowledged. There's a lot of crying and screaming and fit-throwing, which may or may not be cathartic. There are promises made, but whether they are fulfilled is anyone's guess. Some of that truth remains elusive, I think. There could have been more to this story, in that way, as well as others.
The historical characters were endearing and not stereotypical. The scenes during this time were very well done - you can feel the snow on your cheeks, the cold, the sunny breeze on a warm day. There are no laments about the clothing, thank goodness (a personal pet peeve). Cig sees a lot in this time to appreciate and is respectful of the differences, so she learns and adapts very well. I really love this part of the book. You can really see her starting to grow, especially as she feels herself being drawn to the people she meets, some perhaps a bit more than others. She is really good at giving people their due, and is able to develop true friendships, bonding with not only her family members but with several others.
Unfortunately the author attempts to bind the historical story with the modern one in an ultimately dissatisfying way.
Having Fritz - or his historical double - show up at the very, very end of the last two pages was about as piquant and frustrating as a mouthful of cold coffee. That touch, imho, was pure effrontery on the part of the author. A better writer would have either omitted that bit completely - I mean, we do find out what had happened to that character so there was no mystery there - or brought the character in gradually, just like the historical friendship that had blossomed originally, and quite naturally, into something more. But teasing the reader with a sudden appearance right at the very end? Gross.
Violence is depicted realistically in the book, especially in historical context, where the author shines with not only making it believable, but applicable to the plot and characters. Sadly, the depictions of violence seem either dated, gratuitous, or just wrong in the modern-day (1999) portion.
The title of the book, "Riding Shotgun," is quite dated, trite, and really doesn't apply to anything that happens in the book other than one or two references to "riding shotgun through history" - and what does that even mean? Especially in the context of this book. The main character travels back in time on horseback, where there is no "riding shotgun." It's an inept analogy at best. Books have been re-titled and this one needs to be.
I honestly wonder if the author might revisit the story and write the ending differently, too. If so, the entire book would make a fabulous movie. As a writer, I'm tempted to pen a bit of transformative fiction myself here. As it is, the last quarter of the book brought it down from an otherwise five stars to four. Still a very good read, as I said, but the story that could have been written - like the truth that Cig seeks - is still out there.
Content Warnings:
Moderate: Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, and Physical abuse
Minor: Emotional abuse
There is minor emotional abuse that I attribute mainly to plot devices that are extremely dated now. However, toward the end, there is a violent physical altercation between two members of the Hunt Club, a married couple that is extremely disruptive, dangerous, and ends up involving others.
>The aggressor is punched in the face by a teenager, which halts the fight, and the teenager is then lauded for his "quick thinking."
No one remarks on the fact that this altercation is essentially an attempted murder right in front of everyone. No assistance or health care is even offered to the injured person, who bears heavy marks and is clearly injured; they all just get on their horses and begin the event after the fight is stopped. As I said, this part is very dated and unsatisfactory all around.
Innocent children accused of rape who would serve years in prison for a crime they did not commit. Image from New York Daily News Archive/NY Daily News via Getty Images via The Guardian.
We can do better than this.
In a thoughtful, engaging piece in The Guardian, Oliver Laughland reminds us of the charade some folks are currently watching in a dangerous flirtation with "what if"?
The ridiculously and perhaps initially humorous fact of his claiming to be presidential material and actually throwing his hat in the ring is not funny anymore, if it ever was. It's a narcissistic whomping of our collective social consciousness in a self-centered, hateful attempt at grabbing control of the overwhelming and abusive level of power that odious old white men used to have in this country.
And it just has to stop. We were doing so well in spite of their carping, insidious obstruction to one of the finest Presidents in the modern age. Trump's bid for the presidency must be called out for what it is. It is no longer just okay to ignore the clown car and hope it will fall of the cliff through its own refusal to look where it's going.
See, they think they see where they're going. They have a fixed vision of the world they hope to re-create, and it's very, very ugly.
It's not a world we want to live in again.
And in case this isn't obvious: they don't want us to live there either. They want the future all for themselves. They have no intention of sharing. So if that's what anyone believes, we need to disabuse them of that irresponsible and childlike notion.
See, it's pretty clear that anyone who thinks Trump has an answer that will make their own life better who is not a member of the .01% who own most of the wealth in the entire world is not thinking rationally. It's a misguided belief that if the rich are richer, they will share some with us. That doesn't happen in real life, and most of us know that.
There's no such thing as the proverbial Santa Claus. remember? Santa Claus is the people who love you. He's not some fat white guy with bad hair and an eye-popping wardrobe who works his ass off to bring you and all the good boys and girls treats and toys one night a year. That guy is an elf, and There are No Such Thing as Elves.
Except the people who love you, of course. Does Donald Trump love you?
Unless you're covered in gold and are ready and willing for him to take it, then no, Donald Trump doesn't love you. And he's not bringing you any presents.
Donald Trump is the guy who's going to take all your presents and keep them for himself. He's the Christmas Thief. Unfortunately, he doesn't just steal things from people who don't deserve them. He steals from anyone who is stupid or desperate enough to do business with him and a lot of other people who never met him and have nothing to do with him.
We must denounce every single person who thinks what Trump and his ilk are doing are okay. It's so not okay. It's wrong, and it's dangerous to overlook that wrong in an attempt to play nice. He's not going to play nice, he's going to lie and cheat and steal his way forward for the rest of his life. He doesn't know how to do it any other way, poor guy.
And we can't let him have our country. Too many people have died to keep us free. As Yusef Salaam, one of the Central Park Five, says: "What would this country look like with Donald Trump as being a president? That’s a scary thing." How many more will die if people like The Donald keep committing statutory rape against our economy, our civil rights, and our common good?
What would that world look like, in all reality?
We've been there, guys. We know exactly what it would look like. Please tell me we are too smart to go there ever again.
Compliance is all they ask. It's all they need. All that evil needs to succeed is that good people sit by, and do nothing.
So we gotta aim to misbehave, you know? Every time that golden hair flap appears in public, somebody send some chewed-up bubblegum its way, okay? We need to be relieved of that thing. He's got a thing about baldness. He hides behind the fear and loathing we all have of our true selves. He doesn't have the right to do that, you know - not unless we give it to him.
We need to show that this would-be Emperor is as naked as the day he was born. As naked as we all are.
He's not the leader we need. He's not a leader at all. He's a masthead, a figurehead for perceived wealth and class and privilege. He's a charlatan, a con man, and he's counting on you buying the tinsel-covered pack of lies that he's selling.
He's telling you to help him steal the freedom right out from under you. He wants us to exchange places with those who went before us, and died for that freedom. He wants you to give up, and let him take the reins, so he can drive that golden chariot across the sky while you shiver and dry up below him choking on your mass-produced Turkish Delight.
It's the oldest trick in the book.
Don't fall for that. Be the beacon. Point to the earth, and the sky, and the people around you - the ones who love you - and stand up for the truth and help others do likewise.
You,
It's you and me,
It's you and me won't be unhappy.
"C'mon, baby, c'mon darling,
Let me steal this moment from you now.
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,
Let's exchange the experience, oh"
And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
With no problems.
--Kate Bush, Running Up That Hill
We all got problems. They won't be solved unless and until we stop looking to rich people in power to do it. We've got to do it ourselves, we've got to hold hands, work together, help each other, and elect people who do likewise -- who really do love us, who have demonstrated by their actions that they love us, and they'll do right by us, and will do their damnedest help us get out of whatever mess we are in. Who won't be one of those people who take what we have and keep it for themselves, even though they already have so much they don't know what to do with it all.
Don't be so blind that you cannot see good when it's right in front of you.
In America, we think differently, we act differently, we live and work and play differently from each other, and that's supposed to be okay. We believe different things and our homes and families reflect that. We've come a long way to get here. Today it's okay to love whom you love, and marry that person so you can be happy together for the rest of your lives.
These things irritate some people. They make it complicated. In order to live in this country effectively you've got to have an open heart, open eyes, and open hands. You've got to be willing to accept the fact that your experiences are not universal, that your life is very different from your neighbor's and sometimes an entire world away from someone on the other side of the street. Yet we are all Americans. We belong here. We're part of the system and society.
This is how it should be.
But for those for whom these ideas are complicated, this is perhaps a threat. They feel threatened because part of their way of life is at risk. If everyone really has an equal chance, the outcome they want might not happen - because that outcome benefits them. They see life as a struggle to make sure their outcome happens and their neighbor's does not. They use fear as a tool to try to get you to buy into the outcome where they have all the power and they might give you some autonomy to do what you want - as long as it doesn't threaten what they have and want.
They are very good at using fear. We've got to stop seeing the fear as an adversary, and start using it for what it is: a tool. Turn it around, point it right back at them. Make them see that what they fear is actually you. It's us. It's our freedom to do and give and love whom we want and live as we choose; it's our autonomy.
Strip that fear naked and look at it for exactly what it is.
We all know the horrific things nations accomplish because of fear - you know them, you can name dozens. We are better than that.
We are Americans.
The terrible thing about fear is that it is so easily inflamed and becomes hatred. For whatever reason, hatred tends to get things accomplished. It builds walls. It makes rules to control people's differences. It makes wars.
We are better than that. We are Americans.
"Freedom has many difficulties and democracy is not perfect, but we have never had to put a wall up to keep our people in, to prevent them from leaving us." --John F. Kennedy
Berliners didn't build that wall. Fear and hatred did. That same fear and hatred that you and I feel when we think about what we might lose. We need to shun that fear. We need to laugh at the hatred so it will wither in shame and die, writhing. "Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free." --John F. Kennedy, Ich bin ein Berliner speech Who benefits when people are not free to live and love and work and play and be who they are? Who, indeed? The only people who would benefit are those who hate who we are, how we live, the way we love, because it means we think for ourselves, and cannot be controlled. Who benefits when people are controlled, when choices are limited? The people who are doing the controlling, so they can limit our choices to the things they, and they alone, offer. These people are not, and should never be in, government. Government speaks for the people and does the wishes of the people, not the other way around. Commerce can be a lively thing, when it's a healthy exchange and is equitable between the parties. It can be manipulated so it draws from one to give to another. When one party is clearly drawing more and more from everyone else it is anything but a healthy exchange; it's a disease. It's a sick system that needs our attention to fix the inequities and the only thing that's going to do this is to elect responsible representatives and keep watch over them. Government for the people, by the people, and of the people is not something to be squandered because of fear and hate. But it needs a lot of love to counteract the fear and hate, to balance the squandering manipulative parties and to re-distribute things equitably according to need and actual contributions. It's easy to see a successful businessperson as a good and intelligent person because that's who they want you to see, and if they're controlling the outcome by limiting your choices you have no opportunity to vote your conscience. But they cannot limit your voice. They can limit your opportunities but they cannot touch who we are. We are Americans. Do not hate us because we are different. We can be divided by our differences, but then we will fall, and always have. Hopefully we learn from our failures.
Hopefully we have not learned to hate ourselves because of them.
Love us, love America, believe in our goodness and celebrate our differences, or we will simply cease to be Americans.
Today we honor Dr Martin Luther King, Jr, who fought for equal rights and opportunities for all people, no matter their race, color, or creed. He was adamantly supportive of fair labor laws, and warned against deceptive practices designed to diminish the value of individual workers.
“In our glorious fight for civil rights, we must guard against being fooled by false slogans, such as ‘right to work.’ It is a law to rob us of our civil rights and job rights.Its purpose is to destroy labor unions and the freedom of collective bargaining by which unions have improved wages and working conditions of everyone…Wherever these laws have been passed, wages are lower, job opportunities are fewer and there are no civil rights. We do not intend to let them do this to us. We demand this fraud be stopped. Our weapon is our vote.” —Martin Luther King, speaking about right-to-work laws in 1961
Not to take away from the celebration of his life and work, but we still have an awful lot of work to do. Some would say that the best way to celebrate Dr King's legacy is to continue to fight on for better conditions for all workers, everywhere.
Aside from fair labor laws, perceptions must be addressed that harm a worker's - any worker's - ability to prove themselves. These perceptions include those about age. I wrote about this awhile back, recognizing that the best way to destroy perceptions that limit our opportunities is to refuse to bow down to them.
Revisiting this particular issue, because it's been a few years and it's apparently still a thing - perhaps even more so.
A recent PBS Newshour segment further elucidated the general public on this problem. Clearly, it's still a great idea to de-emphasize the length of your work history in favor of highlighting skills, accomplishments, and knowledge. In fact, this is where those of us with long work histories should be shining. After all, with years of experience we've had enough time to gather rosebuds and honors in bulk. Instead of listing each one in chronological order, we have the distinctive capability to pick and choose among the best of those.
Don't let some of the general public's perception of older women be the rule: that is gender bias at work. In study after study, the facts remain clear: there's no good reason for this. Women often work harder, persevere longer, think more creatively, juggle priorities and tasks more skillfully, and are better at focusing efforts toward a positive outcome than men. Why wouldn't we be able to continue being valuable, productive members of any team as long as we wish it?
Why, indeed.
In an article published by the John C. and Nancy D. Whitehead Chair in Economic Studies at the
Brookings Institution, Dr Gary Burtless, of the Center for Retirement Research at Boston College, describes his study that makes it clear that aging does not affect productivity. In fact, his research shows that older workers frequently command a premium wage that reflects their contributions to the workforce.
Unfortunately, in a time of hard scrutiny of a company's bottom line, this premium - even well-deserved - can be a factor in a decision to hire a new, older-aged worker. Sometimes, we are forced to agree to wages that are competitive with those earned by younger workers, or lose the job. Counter-acting these decisions may not be something that is in everyone's control. Only by demonstrating repeatedly how well we do can we expect to change the perception that our value may be diminished by our age.
We must continue to educate ourselves, to diversify our incomes, to seek out opportunities to cash in on our knowledge and experience. One way to do that is to publish. Another way is to teach. Of course, the wiser employer will encourage knowledgeable, experienced employees to mentor and demonstrate to younger, less experienced. However, we can't always count on this. As employers continue to pare back (whether or not it is in anyone's best interests, even their own), we cannot limit ourselves to what "the market will bear." The promise of capitalism isn't The American Dream, no matter what we once believed. It's just a chance to compete. That is all.
The American Dream is the fact that we actually can imagine ourselves better.
What does this mean, exactly? To be quite honest, it's a myth that creativity and imagination coupled with hard work that leads toward a better life exists solely in the United States. It's a human challenge that frankly, other countries do just as well, perhaps some even do it better. The real challenge for all of us no matter what our age is to do our best, every single day. Some days will be better than others. Some days will plainly be forgettable.
Don't settle for less than your best, every single day. And it's up to you to define exactly what that is.
Recently I became involved with someone born between 1946 and 1957; aka, a Baby Boomer.
I know, I know. All the good times have probably already happened, and reality is setting in.
This person didn't seem to be opinionated and stilted in his thinking. He claims to vote on the left side of liberal. He cooks. Has animals. A sense of humor. Appears to get along well with others.
I'm thinking this is as far as it goes, though. Barely two months in, and he's telling me the way I should do things. Criticizes my plans. Belittles the marriage for which I'm just over eighteen months widowed, says he "doesn't think it was a real marriage."
There. I think I have my answer.
Here's a clue for anyone who might not understand what is wrong with this picture: if you want to have a future with someone, don't do battle with a dead husband. You will lose. Be the bigger person, and allow that your love life was not the first, or it most decidedly will not be the last. Understand that your past experiences have shaped your opinions and vision, just as mine have.
We are not the same. And in most cases, that is a very, very good thing.
I don't want this to devolve into another bashing of *that* generation. But it is hard not to: I have a really hard time relating to anyone born prior to 1964. (The actress Betty White is a notable exception. That lady is just joyful all the time, about everything, and how can you not love her? In contrast, how many other joyful Silent Generationers or Baby Boomers can you name?) These folk not only are situationally surly and obtuse; they just have no idea; another friend pointed out, quite astutely, that most of them are emotionally stunted; they didn't learn anything from their experiences and have no idea that their world was as blighted and stupid as it was. They think, above all, that they know better than you. They really have no basis for their untoward, unwelcome, and unenlightened opinions but they are damn well going to bless you with them and you should be grateful for their experience.
Um. No thanks, actually.
I think I'd rather watch the sunset, while I can still see it.
Sodonewithsupportingblatantarseholesmasqueradingas consumer advocates.
Today, I'm deleting my Amazon account and anything having to do with the big behemoth. Awhile back I had already removed all payment information, connections to social media, etc.
It took quite a bit of sleuthing to uncover exactly how to do this. Apparently you have to contact Customer Service directly and ask politely, after which they state they will get back to you within 12 hours.
So I'm putting the how-to here, for the erudition of folks with less patience for this tomfoolery than mine, which admittedly is pretty short right now.
To delete your Amazon Account:
Go here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/help/customer/contact-us?#a
Under "What can we help you with?"
--Select "Something else"
Under "Tell us more about your issue"
--From the first drop-down menu, select "Account settings"
--From the second drop-down menu, select "Close my account"
Under "How would you like to contact us?"
--Select what works for you - email, phone, chat.
You are most welcome.
Update: I discovered I had another, very very old Amazon account under another email address. I've done this for that one too. It was interesting to see that my first request has not yet been honored - the other account is still there and recognizes me even before I logged into the older one. This is beyond creepy, folks. I'll update here as applicable.
For further reading:
Hightower's Two-Part Takedown of the "Bezon" - Part 1: "Cheap" comes at a very hefty pricePart 2: The tax-dodging predator at The Hightower Lowdown The Amazon Effect at The Nation Amazon Jungle Review of the book Amazonia at The Guardian Amazon's Monopoly Must Be Broken Amazon's Monopsony is Not Okay, by Paul Krugman in the NY Times
Readers comment on Paul Krugman's article
There is simply no excuse for the fact that well into middle age, with advanced degrees, a respectable middle-class income, and a credit history over 20 years long, that my husband and I are still patently unable to purchase a house, and each month we struggle to meet the bills for basic needs such as food, fuel, shelter, clothing, and education.
Consider this: My parents, who were young professionals with no credit background to speak of and a two-year old, on October 16, 1963 purchased the home that my mother still lives in. At the time they were both teaching school, with advanced degrees and a respectable middle class income. This home was about five years old and cost $17,000.00 (slightly less than the average price of a new home in the US at the time as recorded by the US Census), and was paid off at the tidy sum of $103.00 per month, principal and interest, well before the time of my father's death in 1988. The property is valued at around $125,000 today; it is a 2/3-acre lot with a 4 BR/1.5 bath home in excellent condition and still located in a respectable neighborhood. My mother also has excellent health insurance and pension benefits and will never have to worry about how she will pay for basic needs such as food, shelter, clothing, eyeglasses, and medical care. She never has and she never will. She's a classic example of someone who worked hard, paid her bills and was able to put something away each month for the future. She pays cash for a brand new vehicle about once every eight years or so because she has an abhorrence of paying interest that can not be deducted from one's tax bill. She has lived a tidy, respectable life, and has earned her comfortable retirement.
The Bureau of Labor Statistics has this handy-dandy little table that details teachers' salaries for the period 1959-2006, with comparable 2006 constant dollars that make it simple to see these salaries' equivalents in 2006 dollars. You will see, for instance, that though my parents jointly earned about $12,000 (my mother taught elementary and my father taught high school), the equivalent salary in 2006 dollars was about $80,000. This was because the cost of housing, fuel, automobiles, education, groceries, clothing, etc. - i.e., the cost of living - was considerably lower then than today.
It's quite shocking, in fact, to look over the chart and see how the value of middle-class salaries fell into the toilet during the ensuing years.
To be perfectly sure we're comparing apples to apples, my mother & father paid about $900 annually for taxes, insurance, and social security, making their effective joint disposable income about $11,100 (including obligations of 3.625% for FICA/SSec, 22.6% less exemptions & deductions for federal taxes, and 2% for Virginia state income tax). Their employers actually contributed to Virginia's retirement system and paid for their health insurance. Employees did not have to contribute at all until shortly before my mother retired in the 1990s. A pension and health insurance were considered part of one's compensation package - those were the days! However, during this period, all of the amounts deducted for FICA and Social Security came from an employee's paycheck; employers did not contribute to those programs at that time. There is a nice table at the Social Security administration's website that details federally mandated deductions for taxes and FICA starting in 1937. Historic federal tax rates are here, and you can peruse the actual 1040 and 1040a forms and instructions used to file back in 1963 at the IRS website. Historical state tax rates are contained within tables in this report.
So - let's compare: my husband and I just happen to jointly earn about $80,000 annually as professionals working in the non-profit and government sectors, from which about $20,000 is deducted in order to pay for medical insurance, withdrawals for retirement and deferred compensation of which our employers pay minuscule matches of less than 15%, and taxes, effectively making our joint disposable income in the neighborhood of $60,000. (Bankrate has a nice calculator to help you determine if adjusting payroll deductions might be a good idea in case you'd like to compare your own).
The problem begins to become apparent.
Take a look at my parents' joint disposable income of $11,100.00 in 1963 transferred to today's dollars in this handy-dandy little table:
[Note: Current data from this source is only available till 2012.] In 2012, the relative worth of $11,100.00 US from 1963 is:
$83,200.00 using the Consumer Price Index
$64,300.00 using the GDP deflator
$93,500.00 using the value of consumer bundle
$90,500.00 using the unskilled wage
$106,000.00 using the Production Worker Compensation
$170,000.00 using the nominal GDP per capita
$282,000.00 using the relative share of GDP
Put another way, if you want to compare the value of $11,100.00 worth of disposable income in 1963 with what it's worth in 2012 the relative:
...historic standard of living value of that income or wealth is $83,200.00
...contemporary standard of living value of that income or wealth is $93,500.00
...economic status value of that income or wealth is $170,000.00
...economic power value of that income or wealth is $282,000.00
By any measure, our parents were wealthier by far than we can even hope to be, given today's economic realities. Thank you, banks, insurance companies, corporate welfare queens, and politicians. You've made it such a pleasure to be living and working today, working just as hard but making a fraction of what our parents did. Good show.
I guess it's possible that the ex-Governor has the hubris (or the mad hope) that he can manage to defeat the charges in spite of the mountain of evidence. But I am sad for the woman beside him, because yet again we have an example of the fact that men who try to control women through legislation designed to keep them fighting for the right to be free and equal tend to treat their significant others rather badly through neglect, public embarrassment, or worse.
Like so many others of his ilk, while in office Gov. McDonnell made no effort to hide his lack of respect for women's rights to adequate health care, to be safe in their own homes, and to be paid fairly for their work. It probably didn't even occur to him that these are real issues compared to the types of issues that interested him. It probably didn't even occur to him to think of his family and the consequences for them if their mother went to prison for awhile.
I wonder why that is.
Let this be a lesson to all of us. If he treats women poorly as a general rule, don't think for one second he will make an exception for you when the cards are on the table.
NAFTA is one of the worst decisions we've ever made as a country. It basically killed US manufacturing, it allowed Big Ag to destroy Mexican agriculture and line its pockets with the spoils of economic collapse that in turn allowed Big Ag to become even bigger and badder, and we can NOT repeat this mistake. We simply can not afford to do so.
We were warned, and we ignored it. Do you remember Ross Perot's "great sucking sound" speech? He was right, and we should have listened. We did not, and as a result we murdered the domestic textile and manufacturing industries and nearly killed the auto industry, which was only saved by a last-ditch effort and lots of government bailout money (your tax dollars).
We must not ignore the warnings about the President's new trade initiative. They are accurate and the threat is real. We won't have an economy if this horrible idea becomes law. Mr Obama, you are one of my favorite world leaders, and an otherwise excellent President, but Please Do Not Repeat Mr Clinton's Horrible Mistake.
The post-NAFTA era has been marked by growing inequality, declining job security and new leverage for corporations to attack government regulations enacted in the public interest. But it wasn’t supposed to be that way. Back in 1986, when the leaders…
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then we will see face to face [1Cor 13.12] [Image credit: publicphoto.org]
It has been a little over nineteen years since two sweet innocents sank into the bottom of a man-made lake in South Carolina, sent there by the woman who carried them in her womb. Susan Smith's story changed us all, mothers and fathers and families alike. None of us were unaffected, and yet, looking back, it is perhaps time we saw the lake as a mirror, and recognize our own reflection within it.
As a society, although individually we may strive toward good, we are none of us innocents. We should acknowledge, as Beverly Russell did, that there is a seed of capability to do great evil within us all. We owe this woman forgiveness, and until we do this we can not move on toward reconciliation, and we will not be able to realize our great responsibility to our children to ensure they grow up in a safe, loving world, full of possibilities.
When the word first came out that this mother had done the unthinkable, I remember being in the grocery store with my then 7-year old daughter and my son who was about the age of the youngest Smith child. Strangers who passed by my shopping cart reached out toward him, fastened safely in his little seat, to touch his head and to grasp my hand, wrapped protectively around him. "Take care of that child," some would whisper. "I can tell you are a good mama," others would say. I saw friends of mine from church, also young mothers, and we reached instinctively toward one another, asking, "How are you? Do you need anything? Is everything all right? You know you can call me," our eyes searching deeply within each other's, trying desperately to re-validate the safety net of community that had been rended and torn by the news.
We all knew that sometimes we are only a breath of time away from losing it ourselves, and we needed to know that we could stop it from happening if we could only remember we are there for each other, to help shoulder the load.
Before Susan Smith's trial and the facts and analysis that would come out of it showing she was a desperate, troubled individual with a past that some of us could not fathom or relate to - we young mothers knew. Only the grace of something greater than ourselves up to that point had saved some of us from recklessly destroying our greatest and most precious gifts, that of our children and ourselves. For some horrible reason, that grace had failed a young mother, allowing her to send her children, her flesh, her blood, to a watery tomb. And I think that our shock and horror allowed us to separate ourselves after a time from this recognition, in order to move on and to be better parents.
This had to happen. But it is time now to take the next step, and forgive her for her actions. To recognize as a society that we had some hand in this undertaking, and to heal and to move forward toward ensuring that infanticide does not have to happen, that we recognize the warning signs and stop this evil, desperate act from taking place ever again.
***
We know better now, how ill and wretched this young woman was. We know, and we must recognize, that she was manifesting the symptoms of the classic murderer of her own children. At that time only trained specialists knew and were capable of seeing in; indeed it is what helped them to guide Susan Smith into confessing her great horrible deed.
But we all should know now. It's been nearly twenty years. Surely we can recognize that she was at the apogee of human error and selfish grasping for attention, love, and acceptance for who she was and what she was at the time: a lonely, depressed woman whose inner child grieved for the father she had lost, and who could not, for whatever reason, accept that now she was a mother, with limited options.
It's sad, but true. As her life gained complexity, her future seemed to dim, and the possibilities voiced in the letter written by the lover who rejected her probably seemed like a carrot too far from reach. She lashed out, angrily, at what seemed to have slipped away while she was busy attending to her greatest accomplishment: motherhood. She was confused, and oh so empty, and her fear allowed her to believe that emptiness was permanent.
We have all felt like this, at some time or another. Fortunately, most of us have resources and loved ones who help us see the folly of that belief, and can show us the good and lovely opportunities and choices for good in our lives, so that the fear and loneliness and rejection do not last.
Susan Smith did not.
Why?
Why, when she looked around, did she only see a situation that further estranged her from her best self? Why did she want to end her life, and that of her children? And what, if anything, could have been done to stop it?
I will reflect further on this as time allows. For now, I want to just think about this rationally, given the facts as we know them. I'll write more as soon as I can.
I honestly want to know how drivel like this makes it past an editor.
At the beginning you meet Grant, who is likeable enough, and the premise of a bachelor raising orphans in early 20th century Texas is just odd enough to work. However, that is the best I can say about this book. Even if you can manage to ignore the anachronistic language (I honestly can't), there is nothing else about this story that is plausible or even interesting. Hannah is an idiot and completely ridiculous, and it's really, really hard to ignore her lack of judgment or powers of observation (there aren't any). Even the way Grant and the children interact is completely out of the realm of reality given the time period. There are too many language foibles and awkwardly out-of-place sentences. I made it about 50 pages in and had enough.
In this short novel, Willa Cather paints a disturbing portrait of a woman caught in the social grip of her times. At once a fiercely independent, charming free spirit and an obedient member of the quietly patriarchal backbone of Victorian society, Marian "Maidie" Forrester elicits both derision and sympathy from today's readers, as she did from the young male narrator of her story. We wonder if we could have performed any better on the stage where Mrs. Forrester found herself. I would be willing to bet that few would.
This story is an insider's view, told in the language and attitudes of the late nineteenth century, and is highly recommended for students of Women's Studies and Social History.
The League of Ordinary Gentlemen is the sort of blog where thinking folks go to discuss the issues. Sometimes the debate over there reminds me of my father's den, where his students, friends, and folks from our church would come to debate the issues of the day, which in that time were civil rights, politics, and the lessons of history. I was a small child then, too young to take part, but I often listened from the other room. Looking back, it is fascinating to realize how important it was that my family was free to invite people who wanted to discuss the things they felt were important to continuing the right of self-determination, and to understanding the things they may or may not have experienced in their own lives, and so to apply current events to their own search for truth and justice. It was, in short, good preparation for the decade of the 1980s, just to be sure we were aware of the potential of our species to destroy itself. Rational folk won't generally self-destruct, and yet individuals and civilizations do it all the time. How does that happen?
Recently, there was a post at the League that asked a question that brought quite a bit of discussion. (See The Incredible Shrinking Candidate, by Tod Kelly) It was posited that the Republican party behaves as if the "real Mitt" isn't there. By refusing to answer direct questions that are pertinent to his experience and belief, the writer posited that Mitt Romney is hiding his true self. And he wrote that he thinks it's the fault of the far-right wing ideologues of his party and their largely successful efforts to get him to fall into lockstep with their true-believers path, which (he writes) history clearly demonstrates is not the path that Mr. Romney has followed - and that the Tea Partiers should back off. Mitt should be allowed to be Mitt. Essentially the author asked, if the "true Mitt Romney" were allowed by his party ideologues to be truthful about what he really might offer - both his experience as a businessperson, his family values, and his political savvy - wouldn't we like that person? Might we vote for him?
To that I have to say - hogwash. We're seeing the real Mitt. Tod Kelly is missing the forest because he's looking for trees that aren't there, he's looking for substance where there really is only mist. What happens when the mist lifts? The light of day, folks, which shines on the garbage can in the backyard, the front walk that needs sweeping and the grass that needs mowing, just as it all did yesterday. The mist isn't really obscuring anything at all, but we like to pretend that it does, because it's soft and poetical and all and covers up what we'd really rather not deal with at the moment.
Here are the facts: It's clear that Mitt Romney has followed the course of action throughout his entire life that he's following now: that of choosing whatever option he thinks will get him what he wants. All narcissists can appear to be gentle, benevolent gods when they choose - it's part of their charm.
Mitt Romney would be the same paper president he was at Bain Capital, the same leader of the Salt Lake Olympic squadron, the same governor of Massachusetts - taking the road that at the time paved the way toward looking good on paper and in rare public appearances, but disappearing at the first puff of the wind of substance.
Meaning that, voting for Romney as POTUS would mean that his cronies would be the ones calling the shots, directing his paper-doll stance, pulling the strings of his puppet arms. Mitt is the perfect non-candidate. Don't think for a moment that he's actually responsible for anything except carrying out the wishes of the entities filling his pocketbook. He's meaningless and hard to pin down because that's the person he is.
Mitt Romney is the worst kind of person in the world: a classic narcissist who thinks he has a god-given mission to lead the United States (please research his religion, specifically the white horse prophesy if you doubt it), who will always act in his own best interests, and the world be damned. He has delusions of grandeur and believes that he is destined for greatness not only during his time here on earth, but in the afterlife. The shifting sands of his character are ingrained, and have served him well as far as prosperity goes. The thought of him at the helm of the biggest ship in the world means that if he believes hitting that iceberg will land him in heaven's realm, and in the meantime array his family and his own self in gilded heaven-on-earth glory, well then - it's all a part of his god's plan.
Put another way, imagine Mitt Romney at the controls of a 747 headed for the World Trade Center. He'd never hit that building, right? Look again. There's a guy who looks like Mr. Romney sitting in first class holding Ann's hand. They look around and smile, chat up their neighbors, full of charm and class. Then Mitt looks at his watch, and they bow their heads and start to pray. Paul Ryan's in the pilot seat, and he believes that building is full of liberal Democrats, lesbians, and abortion providers. Mitt is smiling and dreaming of the afterlife. No wait - that's actually not Mitt at all. The real Mitt is far away on an island in the Caymans.
Now what would happen? Yeah, I'm joking. Look closer.
Then there is the Tea Party. Fortunately there are other folks who've gone the extra mile to put the naked truth about them before the American public, so I'll share this clip from Aaron Sorkin's amazing new show, The Newsroom, where the truth is told as "fiction."
We can stop this insane bunch of crass, self-serving idiots. We must vote. Take the day off to do so if you must, but do not leave the polls until you have cast your rightful, individual VOTE. I understand that there are some places where it may be difficult to do so. How many have been disenfranchised in the past in this country, through trickery? More than one is too many - but there have been many, many people who were unable to vote because they stood by while this opportunity was literally stolen.
I have seen instances in my lifetime, in the past decade, where voting machines were moved - while voting was actually taking place - from high-minority, low-income, inner-city districts to predominantly white, wealthy, suburban ones so that there was a dearth of machines in the minority low-income districts and an unnecessary plethora of them in the wealthy, white districts; many of those machines were absolutely empty and unused during the remainder of the election. This forced many to have to leave to go back to work before they'd had a chance to cast their votes. I have stood in line to vote while poll workers went down the rows handing out cards and demonstrated how to vote a straight Republican ticket - and yes, there were unenlightened people who honestly thought they were simply being shown "how to vote." I have been there while people who were legally registered were turned away because they didn't have - or refused to show - a "proper ID."
This is America. No one has the right to do this to us. Stay, vote, and don't back down. Don't leave. Cast a provisional vote if you have no other choice. But Do. Not. Leave. Your future, your children's future, depends on your exercising the right to VOTE. Do not let them turn this country into the third world nation they can control, because that is what they want. That is what they believe God wants. They think we are stupid, and they do not respect us or the democracy they were born into. They are misguided, they are armed, and they are dangerous.
Fifty years ago a similarly high-minded group of politically-charged individuals led by a single charismatic mouthpiece spewing venomous hate went after innocent folk in the name of protecting our American shores from "communism." The McCarthy era was responsible for ruining hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives, and amounted to publicly-sanctioned ethnocentrism and racism. This time it's worse: there are dozens of charismatic mouthpieces spewing racism, misogyny, lies, and hate. They assert that our GOD is on their side, and because of that they ask us to doubt our conscience and look the other way while people who shout fear and hate take over our government. They are asking us to abdicate our democracy, and for those of us who refuse, they are doing their damnedest to take away our right to self-determination.
We should know better. Hate is hate, patriarchal control is control outright, and it preys on our fears of that which we do not understand and don't want to admit to our lack of understanding - and we should never allow it to cloud our vision. We must not give in to the claim that it doesn't matter who wins. It matters. We must not abdicate our rights as an informed electorate. To do so will result in the loss of everything our democracy stands for, and will effectively negate our Constitution and our way of life.
Don't let them take over our government again. We probably won't get it back if they do. But don't let this scare you. Let it strengthen your resolve. There is really absolutely nothing to fear except fear itself.
This election season, do not be confused by the vapor surrounding the truth, obscuring the things they really don't want you to see. Step through the mist, pick your way carefully over the rocky shoals hidden underneath the gloom of doubt and suspicion. VOTE.
Thought-provoking, careful, cogent observations designed to open our eyes and help us to see the difficulties our current reality is causing in young women. I don't think we can open this book and not be gripped by the truth Dr. Pipher is pointing out. She's like the child who observed the Emperor has nothing on - she may not be saying what we want to hear, but we cannot deny it needed to be said.
Re-reading this now because it's good to remember what I learned before now that my youngest is Ophelia-ing her way through her teens. And also that, our children come here pretty much perfect, "fresh from God," as Fr. Ernie used to say. It's up to us not to ruin them or allow the world to do so either.
The photo is of me about 16 years ago, with three of my children and one on
the way. As you can see, we enjoy studying and re-enacting the
lifeways of the 18th & 19th centuries in America. My children know more
about the experience of our forebears than most history teachers, because
they've lived it.
Today, as the mother of four beautiful daughters, one son, with a delightful
granddaughter and another grandchild on the way, I am extremely disappointed in
the actions of the Governor and the Virginia Legislature that limit women's access to reasonable
and prudent health care and place unreasonable restrictions that intrude into
the confidential trust and privacy concerning procedures that are only
appropriately made between a woman and her health care provider.
Modern
health care made it possible for me to have children spaced reasonably apart so
my body could recover. Prescription birth control helped my doctor treat
ovarian cysts, critical bleeding, and endometriosis. I am healthier because of it. Moreover,
I know had I really lived in the 18th century, I would not have survived my
condition. I have the option and luxury of studying the lessons of history from
the vantage point of modern understanding. I'm not certain many of our
legislators even know what that is.
The legislature - and certainly no MAN - has any right whatsoever to intrude into women’s private health care
matters. I chose to give birth naturally to all five of my children, and
even chose to give the first up for adoption at birth because I was still in
school and too young to be responsible enough for her. She was raised by
wonderful, loving parents, she found us when she became an adult, and we are
grateful for her and all of our children. However, I still defend to the
utmost any woman's right to choose not to give birth, through whatever means
she and her doctor deem reasonable and in her best interests, and I will not
stand by and have any access to health care denied because of intrusive,
invasive, and unreasonable legislation. My choice to give a child up for
adoption was the most searing, difficult decision of my life, and I would not
force that decision on anybody. Every woman must have the choices available
to her that make sense for her body and her situation.
No procedure should be dictated by an uninvolved non-medical entity, most
especially the Virginia Legislature and government. I am very, very
disappointed in our governor, senators and representatives and will voice my
dissatisfaction in the voting booth.
Thanks to Planned Parenthood of Virginia for keeping this issue before the
hearts and minds of the public. Hopefully a day of reason is not far off,
in spite of legislative efforts to the contrary.
I just emailed Governor Bob McDonnell of Virginia. He has the despicable mandatory ultrasound-waiting-period bill on his desk to veto or sign by Friday, March 9.
Feel free to copy/paste any of this as applicable to your situation and do likewise.
Representing myself as I am was wiser than anything else I think I could do. I decided to have my children, and gave one up for adoption (who found us as an adult) because it was the right decision for me (and for her) - but I will defend to the utmost anyone's right to have control over her body, and to make the correct decision for her own body and situation. No one - especially any male - has the right to decide what is best for us.
The text of my email is below.
Email Subject: A caring mother of five
As a caring mother who has five wonderful children, I am asking you to uphold the rights of women in the Commonwealth to reasonable access to necessary health care, without burdensome regulations designed to foster confusion and intrusion into the private realm of matters that are only between a woman and her doctor.
Veto HB 462. If this measure is passed, it will most certainly not withstand the first court challenge, and will waste unnecessary taxpayer dollars, as well as hours of valuable time, better spent protecting the rights of citizens to reasonable, consistent, and necessary health care.
This book is a re-issue of an edition that was first published in the early 1990s, but originally the story itself was written and published in 1983. It seems rather sad to look back through the window of time and wonder, is this what passed for acceptable romance twenty to thirty years ago? Really? If so, no wonder this genre has the reputation it does. This book is really, really horrible. I couldn't finish it - and that's saying something. I feel compelled to warn readers about certain issues that may make it as disturbing for them as it was for me.
The premise is that of a recently divorced woman who just passed her 30th birthday and is still coping with the changes and disappointments of losing her husband to a dalliance he felt compelled to explore with a mutual co-worker (both the heroine - and I use that term loosely - and her ex-husband work in the same office as scriptwriters for a daytime soap opera). As premises go, it's a bit awkward but could work given some creative effort. The hero seems guarded and interesting at first - tall, sculpted, brooding, a carpenter who renovates homes. They meet, she hires him, and at first he hesitates, because he's attracted to her and he's not up for a relationship just now - but then he gives in (we're really not sure why), and makes her agree on a condition I found a bit troubling but managed to get over for the sake of the story: that he's not going to control his urges to consummate his attraction if he takes the job.
I have a special affinity for men who work with their hands. Carpenters are top of the list for me, in fact. It's why I picked up the book in the first place - a carpenter and a writer? I'm so there.
I also like a man who knows what he wants, and tells you up front. Honesty is usually a very good trait. So I was intrigued at first, and dove in.
As the story progresses, it soon becomes obvious that what could be interesting tension between the two was just a set-up. The trite handling of circumstances and obvious plot twists designed to get these two to the brink of sexual encounters in the quickest, most ridiculously cheesy fashion possible started to make my eyes bleed. The guy is a total oaf - and not in a cute, endearing way. He's a misogynistic cad who practically rapes the woman while she's struggling to fight off his grabby hands and forced kisses while simultaneously trying to control her own rising passions brought on solely by his physical "charms."
Puh-leeze. Okay, so this may be dated - but really? Did we totally buy that crap in the eighties and nineties? I'm looking at much more recent reviews and wondering how in the world grown women can actually find this palatable - much less acceptable and even "delightful" as one reviewer wrote? Seriously? Um, no.
The female protagonist is a dolt and an airhead. Brief glimpses of what could possibly be evidence that she's not are quickly doused whenever the guy walks in the room. I wish she were smarter. I wish she'd fire his ass, and file a police report. But she doesn't.
By the third time the two of them almost get together my stomach couldn't take any more. Put this one back on the shelf and buy a book on how to fight off selfish, chauvinistic jerks or possible rapists instead, because if this stuff titillates you, you're going to want to know what to do if it happens in real life. If you're one of those women who confuses the lack of mutual respect coupled with a severe lack of self-control for honest attraction, then a class in self-defense would probably save your life one day.
About this time yesterday I was in the middle of making a pretty big mistake in full view of the whole world - which is easy to do on the internet. My counselor told me this morning that in the last 5 years she has noticed how often it happens that words that once would have been exchanged between two people in a relatively private setting - a bar, perhaps, or a hallway in passing, even in the privacy of one's own home - now end up posted on Facebook. "It's so quick, to write your reaction, and we do it without thinking. Then we have to live with the results."
Another way what appears to bring us closer, in an instant can zoom us far, far away.
Here's the obvious thing that I had to (re)learn publicly:
DON'T HIT 'ENTER' WHEN YOU'RE ANGRY.
Even in the rare case that you may actually be right (I wasn't) - it still is the wrong thing to do. Airing it publicly, even semi-publicly on friends-only posts, still includes people that really didn't want to see that. We don't go on the internet to be unwitting witness to ugly words about people we care about. If I had kept my thoughts to a few private emails, even, instead of a couple of very-succinctly-worded Zzzzzlams! - well, I wouldn't have had to eat crow for dinner last night. And had to get up and look at the leftovers again this morning. And cringe all over again at the memory of hurting someone I care deeply about, and try to believe that "I made a mistake, everyone makes mistakes, it's not worth beating yourself up over it..."
I am not an existentialist, but they did get one thing right. Even deleting the whole post and anything afterwards that stemmed from it isn't going to make it go away. Once it's on the internet, it's history. Literally. It's out there. Damage done. Now we live with it.
It's worse than just saying ugly words in the privacy of your own home. It's like buying billboard space and painting it across the highways. Everyone can see it, and be witness, judge, and jury to your idiotic moment.
So now I'm reading and re-reading a quote from a small framed picture that my mother gave to my father a long time ago, and trying to apply those wise words of Emerson to the absurdity of this particular situation. Because even though I've apologized profusely and received forgiveness for yesterday's blunders, it is difficult to believe that it won't contribute further to an already tenuous and difficult communication problem that I've been having with the individual who graciously forgave me. While I was writing words of fire, he was actually being a saint and helping people in need. He was applying the rule, "Do unto others..." He was being the better person, doing good in the world.
None of us is perfect, we all are human. And normally I believe and live by these words: Everyone is doing his best he can at the time. It is a reminder to have patience, and do not judge. Why I forgot and felt justified in slamming home some long-ago, worn-out, used-up resentment that should have been thrown out with the trash years ago, is not an excuse. I shouldn't have done it, and I am so, so sorry.
I don't yet forgive myself; I knew better and under normal circumstances would never have done it - except when I've been having a bad day, like I was yesterday. I was sick in bed, and the plumbing in the house had developed a problem overnight and I was having to wait for that to be taken care of. Being ill and unable to take care of what needed doing left me feeling vulnerable and on edge. So I did what other people do when they're sick: I got on the internet, hoping for something distracting to take my mind off of it.
You know where this is going. Without going into detail, the first few words I read on my news page jumped at me completely out of context. I mis-read, assumed I knew what was going on, and further mis-applied them, and felt totally justified in responding with what at the time seemed a high amount of calm and deliberate action. Inside I was seething over a jumble of things, partially to do with the situation at hand but mostly chafing at feeling helpless and unable to do anything but wait and see when the person in question would next communicate (he'd been rather too busy lately to talk much). I didn't want to wait; I wanted attention.
I hate the attention that resulted from that screw-up. I hate that even if I'd been right, that people saw what I wrote. That wasn't necessary. Most of all, I hate that the person to whom it was delivered was bewildered and probably hurt, although he was too much of a gentleman to show it. In the past this sort of thing would have happened behind closed doors and been completely ironed out between the two of us, but since he wasn't and hasn't been around and I was denied that opportunity, I let it out in front of co-workers, friends, and family. How inappropriate. How childish. How mean and rotten and gross.
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day, you shall begin it well and serenely...” --Ralph Waldo Emerson
Deep breath. Read, and repeat.
Here's another thing: it doesn't hurt to read and see what advice the Universe sends out first thing in the morning. This is what it was for me today:
I had to share this with my counselor on the phone this morning (she's so awesome she called me when I was too sick to make the appointment!), and I tried to explain it using an analogy so she could understand how to help me, and why I was so upset.
See, there was this movie, starring George Peppard and Ursula Andress, with James Mason. Epic pilot movie - The Blue Max. In it Peppard plays a military pilot - say that three times fast without tripping over your tongue if you can! Andress plays his lover, Mason plays a superior officer. Andress's character reveals to Mason's that the pilot has cheated on something, I forget what, in order to win the country's highest honor and to be named The Blue Max, because she was piqued over his jilting her. She is spoiled, and manipulative, and she thinks he will just have to lose this award and she will have vengeance. But it's worse than that. As a result of this news the superior officer decides to let him die, rather than to let it come out that the Pilot must be stripped of this honor, and therefore embarrass the whole country. He sends Peppard's character out to test a new plane, that he knows is unsafe, and with tears pouring down her cheeks she has to listen to the engine stall, and the resulting whine and screams as the plane crashes into the earth. "And all because of your stupid little anger!" Mason yells at her.
I hear those words at times like these. Sometimes anger really is pretty stupid. Sometimes we see ourselves entirely too easily in the weaknesses of others. Sometimes we are our own worst enemy.
I have a constant struggle between knowing what is real and knowing what really isn't. This has bitten me in the past, and it's going to continue to bite me as long as I react out of past hurts, without waiting to be certain of having all of the facts. So this will be part of my homework, along with not beating myself up over things I can't change, even if they're my fault. As my counselor said, "No one died from it. You learned something, and it is getting better."
She reminded me about H.A.L.T. - We shouldn't give in to Action when we are Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired. I was at least 2 of those yesterday, and possibly 3. No matter how it looks, it's just not a good idea.
Yeah, I know.
I also have to put this completely in God's hands, because until I learn these lessons, my own are not to be trusted.
.jpg "What was she thinking, driving alone at dusk?")
