The Privilege

When I am at lunch, I watch them come and go.

They sit at a table together, laughing like they don't have a care in the world.

If they want to, they can blast their music loud as hell.

Or if they care to debate politics, they don't worry about if things get heated...or even better, if someone overhears them.

They have their vision of America....beautiful, the flag, respecting those who serve, a cold beer and football.

Statistically the majority of them get to live to be old, retire, die in peace.

Oh, and the American dream is still alive and well.

I watch them as I eat, taking a sip out of my glass, wondering what the fuck that is like.

The other day I was going on break and an older woman saw me in my middle-aged dad shirt, dad shorts, looking about as threatening as a rose petal. She sped up her pace, grasped her purse tighter and got to her car as soon as she can, looking back at me several times as she walked away.

I laughed.

I know people will say I was imagining things.

But then again, this is the portrait that is the country I live in.

I saw the president said folks who were legally elected to, because their skin was brown, to go back to their country...even though these people were either naturalized citizens or BORN here.

I watch them eat, and damn they are comfortable.

I wonder what the fuck that is like.

I look behind me, and finish my last French fry, pay my bill and begin to walk out of the door.

Someone is coming in with their friends, laughing. One of them hold the door for me, and I smile, just as my mother taught me, thanking them for the gesture.

They are all comfortable.

Damn, I wonder....what the fuck.

Silence Is A Copper Penny

I have been mostly quiet for the past 2 weeks or so, an occasional hit and run post when it was too much to resist. While doing so it has driven me crazy, it is the wise thing to do at this point; the seeming fruitlessness of it all kept me up at night.

My wife says my heart is too damned big sometimes.

However, there is a simply matter of right and wrong, despite whatever political, religious, philosophical or whatever views you possess, and this fact...not fake news, not motivated by anything but love for all humankind, has caused me to use my fingers, even for a brief moment in time.

I read comments from folks based on what is going on in the world, and to be my normal "forward" self, it is just fucking nasty. Evil, mean spirited, unformed, bigoted.

The ol' "My way or the highway" method, no matter who else it hurts, is the rule of the day.

My wife uses the same technique when it comes to me doing the laundry.

Shrink a couple of bras and shirts, and a guy can't touch the ERA...sigh.

The biggest thing though I've noticed is how quick folks jump on someone when they have no idea what is is like to walk in that person's shoes. To be able to experience what someone that isn't you goes through every day; .to NOT have the advantage you may have that allows you to avoid it.

I don't know what it is like to be a gay man. No clue on because you have a particularly religious belief you must be a terrorist. Because you have a p***y you are only to be conquered, are stupid or (supposedly) the weaker sex (despite the fact that most women outlive men by about 10 years on average), so you should be listened to (and paid) less. Because of the color of your skin you are a rapist, absentee father, guilty, and bad the day you were born...

....despite the fact that most of the crimes these folks are accused of are committed by the accusers.

Right and wrong are easily twisted to fit the shoes that folks refuse to wear instead of the facts and evidence laid bear for them to see.

I have a dear, dear, dear friend who I am happy to have in my life. While we disagree on our worldview, her view of the world is something I wish were true. As far as she is concerned, I am just Greg, my son with Autism deserves help that isn't cost prohibitive, this is still the land of the free....of opportunity, where an ideal of being judged on your character is more important than what each lie every generation is taught over and over again takes precedence.

Where being kind to each other and taking care of those who are not blessed enough isn't perceived as weakness or laziness on those folk's part.

My friend's heart is SO big. It is almost a marvel to experience, because I wish that all of us (or at least the majority of us) could match its size. Oh Lord, what a wonderful country and world it would be.

A long time friend of mine sent a response to a discussion I started that so disheartened me, so cut me to the soul, it caused me to back away from trying to get folks to see that we are letting a small minority destroy ourselves, as well as continue to hate and distrust one another.

I know my words will continue to fall on deaf ears.

That is a pity.

My silence will probably continue (well, mostly silent). I know I can't change the world (or the 120+ folks who see these ramblings on facebook).

But I won't give up.

I am a parent of a child that, as I write this, broke the 67th set of headphones in the last 3 years, gouged his brother so badly that his finger bled, and who is now hitting his wall uncontrollably and refusing to go to sleep.

All the while as his mother, who just pulled in from work, simply wants to eat and go to sleep.

These are my shoes.

I am confident that most are afraid to find out what is like to slip them on.

Rudolph Tried to Represent

Good morning everyone.

Last night I put up a picture of my youngest son with Santa Claus, which we have taken every year, on a popular social media site.  I got a lot of “likes” and a few “loves”.  Not surprising; not to brag, but he is a cute kid.

It is always easier to smile or approve of the good things in life.

The thing I have noticed about social media in the 10 years I have used it is that when you put happy things on it (birth of of a child, cute pic of the kids, awesome vacation pics) people are quick to “like” or “love” it (depending on what platform you are on; it seems that Facebook has become the place for middle-age and older folks to hang out, so I can’t speak for the more “hipper” places to hang).

After getting little sleep (and dropping the husband ball; see my earlier post) my mind wandered (as it is wont to do) about this little factoid that entered my consciousness.

As a person that has seemingly burned a lot of bridges for pointing out all the ugly of the world, I know that people can’t face that things are not well for a lot of people in America (never mind the rest of the world), but whenever I put up something to soothe that ugly, man, the likes are coming in abundance. 

At least when it comes to Noah, anyway (which I can’t hate on; he is a pretty special kid, despite his sometimes difficult moments).

But I write to those who bother to read what I have to say to wonder out loud why we can’t, as human beings (hell, I am just as guilty; I need to go to the dentist for periodontal cleaning that I have semi-blow off for 9 months...that after not going to see a dentist due to fear for 20 years)deal with the ugliness in life...or worse, trying to fix it.

I have had a few people tell me that they appreciate me speaking out, despite the obvious damage that it has done to my standing amongst those who know me.  I believe it is the only reason I haven’t gone silent.  I wanted to reference the recent “controversy” about “Rudolph” real quick.  A lot of people have blown it off because it is a kid’s show and should remain that way.  

I dig that.

However the fact remains that the show was made in the 60’s, and it is rife with bigotry and sexism.  However, since it is a “kid’s show” (hey, I watch it every year and I am 49 years old) and it was so long ago, I’ve seen plenty of people say that people are “oversensitive”, etc etc.  And yeah, I know the characters realized their mistake and changed, blah blah blah. 

Of course this is coming from folks who think (or believe) they are not affected by the same things today that took place 54 years ago.

Once again, covering up that damn ugly.

Sort of like makeup...but like an old joke I heard once, “I may be fat, but you’re ugly....and you can’t run that off.”

Or run away from.

It’s too bad that the real world couldn’t be like “Rudolph”...you know, when folks wake up and realize the ugliness we are all guilty off and recant, improve and learn from.

But those kid pictures are still cute.

The Fairy Tell of the Biggest Dick (ergo Manhood)

Beyond the Noah drama I just posted about, I woke up with a thought that I wanted to expand on.

What, exactly, makes up a Man?

Now as a 49-year-old adult male (at least in the eyes of the law...wait, the law is different for folks like me...we will just go with “in general” and call it even) you would think I would qualify as a “man.”  I have facial hair, deep voice, testicles (well, depending on how cold it is) and will probably die at least 5 years before my wife (probably more like 25, since my wife is not only Caucasian, women in her family seemingly live forever). 

So physically, I am a man.

However, we all know that isn’t the entire story.

Every society has its own definition of “manhood.”  

Men are supposed to be strong, not letting their emotions get the best of them.

We are supposedly (even tho in this world, this antiquated idea needs to die) to be the head of the household, the bad guys who do the disciplining, the “rock.”

We can’t be punks, ready to beat the shit out of each other to prove how much of a “man” we are in society’s (and our loved ones) eyes.

My father always gave me crap because I was (OK, at times still am...hey, I’ve gotten better, damn it) sensitive and would cry when my feelings were hurt.  

Described me in not so pleasant terms too.

When I got out of 8th grade, I got a watch for a gift (I was obsessed with watches).  About 2 weeks after I got it, I was mugged at knifepoint.  The local kids told my pop...and he promptly humiliated me for not fighting back.  Didn’t wear a watch again (including the fact that I am allergic to the nickel in cheaper watches) until I got an Apple Watch (aluminum).  

The biggest thing that occurred to me in the manhood mythos is the attitude towards sex.  

Gotta have as many notches as possible on the belt, right?  

The penis has caused more wars, deaths, dramas, and shitty attitudes (right, POTUS, SCOTUS, and Congress?) than anything else in the world’s history.  A lot of guys think that because of that thing dangling from their crotches that they run shit, forgetting (and more importantly, WE forgetting) that they got their though the ignorance of others, much less while stepping on them to get where they are.

Now if a man don’t have a “Mighty Sword of Bone-age” (or your shit is more flaccid than an orange man in power) they try to prove their “manhood” in other ways (mostly in the lusty chase of power).  

Stupid, but dangerous.

The “manhood” thing tho, mostly hits women....hard.  We have seen it recently....we have seen in for millennia.  It’s why women are running for office, trying to cut that “manhood” down to the stump it should have been long time ago (just leave mine alone, ladies....I am with ya 100%).  

Now I believe that as an adult (male or female) you should stand up for yourself (something that it took me a long time to do, and even now I choose my battles carefully).  I honestly wish that men realize that hey, we are gonna one day rot in the ground (or scattered from a mountaintop) just like our female counterparts.

Look, I dig money, am semi-fond of vagina, and sorta like the strength advantage I have (well, use to have; women 10 years + older than me hit the steps at work while my fat ass is all about “Elevator or bust”).  But I know (well, now almost “knew”) a strong woman who, despite her own victimization of the “manhood mystique” who taught me that no matter what, respect females and their power.  I have been subject to the good and the bad of that statement more times that I can count (ergo 1990-1991, for example), so I know females are da shit.  

I guess my prevailing thought on manhood, both in my personal experiences and what I’ve seen, is that I wish that instead of “manhood” we can just be, well, people.  Respect for what we can do, support for what we can’t.  

And fellas, if you wanna cry, cry.

I saw Simon Cowell do it once.

It is possible.