The Many Shades of Hate

June 20, 2016June 21, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 7 Comments

Or, perhaps I should title it, “Hate Perpetuated”.

A note from the author: I wrote most of this before the Orlando shooting, but I still stand by what I say. It was originally titled as “Same Sex, Politics and Religion”. I changed the title because it has deviated some.

For all that, it is never good when a tragedy like this turns a people against one another. I’ve been disturbed at all the different ways people have lashed out and expressed their many shades of hate toward one another.

What has bothered me the most is the fervent hatred spewed toward God, Christians, religion and lest I forget guns or more specifically assault weapons (understandably). That which is not italicized was written before this tragedy occurred. I am certain that a good many people who have followed me in the past, be they Christian or non, may take offense at what I say or call me to task for my point of view. Keep in mind, it is my opinion based on my beliefs. They are not perfect and I don’t make claims that they are.

MAY- 2016

People talk about the moral decay of society and I may be inclined to agree. We live in an anything goes society there’s no doubt about that. The only thing left is, God forbid, to accept pedophiles as “normal”, because it seems everything else is fine, acceptable and normal, so what’s next? Fortunately, pedophilia remains as one of the few things still considered abhorrent. One day that may not be the case. Who knows?

It’s interesting though, that with the elections coming up, the usual theme of abortion and other such topics are barely being touched on. Perhaps they are old hat now and people have moved on. Or as one website stated, “those issues have been settled by the supreme court so are no longer a big concern”. Okay, I’ll concede to that.

Morals or man’s lack of morals are generally coming under fire but then what’s new? Because some, may have been resolved by the courts, they may not be an issue today, but politico’s still have a footnote about them on their website just to say they do, whatever “their” do is in order to appease their following.

http://stg.do/9LDc A clip from Paul Harvey done 51 years ago. How we’ve evolved.

This is how I look at “sin” and let me assure you it is not my intent to make light or minimize it, but haven’t you noticed that sometimes when too big a deal is made about something it becomes that much more tantalizing?

This may seem insignificant to some folks but I know a lot of people this fits, me included. Tell me I can’t have ice cream and I’ll go out to Coldstone Creamery for a Strawberry Banana Rendezvous and/or buy a gallon of Blue Bell Rocky Road and gobble it up! It’s not good for me and I really shouldn’t have it, especially since the Doc said I was borderline diabetic, not to mention lactose intolerant, but oh my… please nobody tell me I can’t have it. Despite the fact I most often will regret it, but I can’t help it. It is taboo. When my aunt snatched a piece of fried chicken away from my dying grandmother because it wasn’t on her “diet” and wouldn’t be good for her heart, she snatched it right back and said, “look, I know I’m dying and I’m going to enjoy what I like before I go.” I had to chuckle. She enjoyed every bite and she was right, she died four months later.

Take homosexuality for example and I mean no disrespect here. For some it is the “forbidden fruit” but it’s not true for everyone. I abstain from judging gays, I’m not perfect either and, it’s not my job. I’ve wrestled with this for some time though… obviously. Isaiah 5:20 says there will come a time when what is good will be called evil and what is bad will be called good. “20 Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil;Who substitute darkness for light and light for darkness;Who substitute bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!” So, I pondered and vacillated over that. Is that what’s transpiring?

Perhaps I am riding the fence here, but I don’t think so and I’ll tell you why. I finally came to the conclusion that if God doesn’t like something, He will take care of it when the time comes and it won’t be in the way of shootings. Besides I’m guessing God is a better God than many of us give Him credit for. Just ask any gay person who believes in God. I believe God is love and He sent His son to die for all mankind and that would include gays. Why would I want to prevent someone gay from approaching God in prayer or worship saying he is unworthy? If God loves them and I believe he does, then why shouldn’t I?

Are they sinning? Well…

Romans 1:26,27 seems to indicate so, and it is a bit harsh in saying so. 1 Thessalonians 4:5 supports that in addition to other scriptures but… and don’t get your panties into a bunch just yet, it (Romans) talks about people giving up what is ‘natural’ for what is not . (That is my paraphrase).

So, what is “natural”? Common sense indicates that the male and female parts fit nicely together, yet…

I have a brother who is gay. Having been raised a Christian, it took him a long time to tell us, but we already knew it. It just was. We never called attention to it or tried to brainwash or change who he was, we just let him “be”. When his partner was dying, he told me about him. I liked the young man and then my brother tells me he was wondering how to tell mom. I turned to him and smiled, “mom already knows”. Even with her Alzheimer’s, she would from time to time turn to me and say, “you know he’s gay don’t you?” Why he was surprised I don’t know. We all knew and had for a long time.

There are people who claim to have been born that way. How can I dispute them? I don’t know their history, background or genetic makeup. I’m not naive, I know there are people out there who act out for the thrill and baseness of it only. They are not “true” gays. I’m not referring to them. Even gays recognize this. All I do know is that man is not as he was “in the beginning. Perfect.” Only God knows what’s in a person’s heart and how they are made. I’m sure there are Christians who would dispute a portion of that and find what I’ve said disturbing but that is the conclusion I’ve come to based on my observation. Some things I can’t deny are beyond my comprehension. If the first humans lived for thousands of years and we are doing good now to make it to 100, that should tell us, all is not as it once was.

Many of the same people who question the validity of same sex marriages often times violate “God’s Law” in many other ways and by so doing invalidate their right to judge. I mean come on now. What right does anyone have to look down their nose at someone else if they, themselves cannot obey the letter of the law? I’m not wanting to cast aspersions, but it’s a fact…

WE ALL SIN.

To say otherwise is to lie and therefore sin. We’re human and we all fall short from time to time. Sin is sin and yet God loves us anyway. Many today have absolutely no regard for the sanctity of marriage yet point fingers at gays? As more and more hetero couples cohabit and have children without consideration of marriage, how can they worthily judge? If by attending church do they believe it absolves them? I don’t think so.

In John 8:7 Jesus asked, “He who is without sin cast the first stone.” No one could.

I won’t deny that some “Christians” make and continue to do so, inappropriate comments of condemnation of those who died. It is sad and uncalled for I can understand the ire that resulted. However what was even more disconcerting was how it initiated a volley of diatribe from agnostics and anti-theists that ranged from curses and even harsher condemnations and a diarrhea of excessive, nonstop rants against Christians, religion, God and the Bible. Disputants of God went on to derisively blame Him and/or his Word the Bible, as a/the reason for their dogmatism and imply that those who believe are a bunch of uninformed, uneducated and ignorant morons, then taking it one step further, holding them responsible for the shootings! Oh my. Really? How did they make that leap?!

I realize not all Christians are well versed in their beliefs or have an abundant knowledge of God’s Word, so they may be unaware or perhaps have forgotten, what Matthew 7:2 says: “For with the same judgment you pronounce, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

When Jesus was on earth, he shamed scribes and pharisees (religious leaders) for their self righteousness and likened them to “white washed graves full of dead men’s bones”. (Matthew 23:27) So it really doesn’t make sense to accuse God for the stance some Christians may take. He’s not backing that. Being saved is not an exclusive club, but a choice/gift open to everyone. It isn’t without some ramification that their indictment of the victims may have insured their own judgment. Sometimes Christians forget they are saved by God’s Grace, sometimes taking that gift for granted, and because they come across as pious snobs, anti-theists hold them to a higher standard. Ahhh! Measuring. It appears this measuring could apply or include everyone or anyone who takes a sanctimonious stance, pro or con, couldn’t it?

And, how did this incident all of a sudden take a turn to blame Christians or gripe and blame cops for being cautious and not quicker? Christians may have made stupid remarks but they weren’t the shooters. Irrational behavior is not exclusive to Christians. I have heard more hatred spewed by non Christians than Christians.

My sister’s response to me regarding this was:

“The world has been shaken and stirred up viciously and everyone is trying to find an answer to what is going on and so are trying to pin the blame somewhere to make sense of it. However, the big picture that is hard for people to accept, and even Christians seem to forget, but there is a war going on and that is between God and Satan and he wants to destroy what God created. If he can’t gain our hearts then he wants to destroy us. Not an easy concept for people to accept, we want to blame the things we can see and hear and touch.” (End Quote).

(People) “… want to blame the things we can see and hear and touch.”

Hebrews 4:12–13 (NASB95)

12 For the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.

13 And there is no creature hidden from His sight…

That comes from the much maligned Bible and God. Granted men wrote it, “inspired” by God to document His truths.

... in details, it is important when interpreting a dream about a Bible

Educated and somewhat intelligent people today who put faith in Darwin’s evolution theory (mind you, it was only initiated as a theory and later espoused as gospel), they revere Hawking and Einstein’s scientific contributions, who, like the Bible writers, are also “just” men. Yet so hard for them to give credence in a Bible written by several writers over a span of hundred’s of years and who for the most part did not know one another (no collusion there) and yet somehow despite that, miraculously concur in their writings to prophecy, reveal and predict future events that would come to be realized and yet somehow be regarded as of less importance than the other aforementioned ‘modern’ era men? Are they assuming intelligent men did not exist then? The Bible is not passe. There is value in it.

For many who claim that God does not exist, they are also ones who promote, believe in or speculate on the supernatural and feed on spirit realm entertainment. Why do you think there are so many demonic and supernatural shows on TV right now? Perhaps unwittingly, if they can conceive it and perceive another realm then it does exist somewhere in their subconscious being.

Like-it-or-not.

I have an acquaintance who said his friend lost someone at Pulse and that the paramedics had commented on how eerie it was after the disaster when they went in and found cell phones on the floor buzzing away with constant calls from loved ones wondering where they were or if they were safe or even alive. How can this not hurt to the deepest core of anyone’s soul?

In the same fashion as 9-11, my many Christian friends prayed for those who lost loved ones and for those who were injured. Their hearts went out to everyone affected. Please DON’T judge all Christians by inappropriate, publicized remarks.

Ecclesiastes 7:9: “Do not hurry yourself in your spirit to become offended, for the taking of offense is what rests in the bosom of the stupid ones.”

All I keep hearing is Hate, Hate, Hate and blame, blame, blame with the majority of it not spewing from Christians. Do people not hear themselves?

I keep saying and will continue to say, “WHY CAN’T WE JUST GET ALONG!??”

NOW FOR THE ISSUE OF GUNS –

As for guns. I have mixed feelings about them. I don’t own one now but I did. On a farm you got critters to protect your flock from and in my case, it was my chickens. If I lived out in the boonies, by golly, I’d want one. It can be pretty scary being isolated in the middle of no where.

I have used or been taught how to use several types of weaponry. I like shooting them. It is a real kick ass feeling, which then helps me in my screenwriting to know what it feels like to hold and shoot a weapon. Unfortunately… they kill people. I take that back, guns don’t kill but the people using them do, and regrettably, kids can get a hold of guns and hurt or kill one another. There are many valid reason to not have them, but to allow the government to regulate our choice?

How is it we can be pro choice but not pro gun choice?

The stats show that in 2014 – 974,000 children-to-be were terminated by “choice”, whereas deaths by guns were totaled at 32, 175 (11,208 homicide-21,175 suicide in 2013) There were non fatals of 84,258 (that’s a lot-too many) but the total is still not even close to the 974,00o of pro choice choices. Yeah, I know that will rub or offend someone badly, but it is what it is.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not fond of assault weapons nor feel they are necessary or should be legal, but the reality is, when it comes right down to it, the bad guy is going to find the weapons he wants whether we like it or not. Do laws make it harder? Perhaps.

There is no denying there is a problem. If fair laws are to be enacted it needs to be done in an atmosphere devoid of name calling and histrionics. Let’s be fair.

1 Peter 3:9,10: “Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. vs 10 For, “Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech.

Please see this as a reminder to both Christian and non Christians to love and honor one another. Work together not against one another. BE KIND.

As my final scriptural thought, 1 A gentle answer turns away wrath, But a harsh word stirs up anger. 2 The tongue of the wise makes knowledge acceptable, But the mouth of fools spouts folly… Proverbs 15:1

Words to live by.

In the mantra of the good ol’ hippy days “MAKE LOVE NOT WAR”

Just sayin’

Hijacked by Street Art

June 18, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 11 Comments

This is too amazing not to share!

Loud Alien Noize

Abandoned Parisian Nightclub

1-lek-sowat-bains-douches-entrance-pic-by-thias

The site of a stunning 1885-era Parisian municipal bathhouse, HOME to the previous Les Bains Douches Nightclub, is now set to be revamped into a Luxury Boutique Hotel. Earlier this year, a group of 50 Art practitioners filled it up with their own art, creating their very own pop up art gallery from it.

Built as a municipal bathhouse in the late 19th century, Les Bains-Douches would eventually become one of the hottest Night Clubs in Paris known simply as Les Bains, a destination for the likes of Kate Moss, Mick Jagger, Johnny Depp and even Andy Warhol. Due to some faulty construction in 2010 the building was declared a safety hazard and is now slated for complete RENOVATION in just a few days to pave way for La Société des Bains, a new space that will open in 2014. In…

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The Cat’s Out –

June 2, 2016August 14, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 6 Comments

My step sister uses the phrase, and I might add, way too often, “The cats out of the bag”.

She did this when she thought my son was seeing a girl she thought he shouldn’t be seeing. He was actually doing something legitimate like homework. No matter, it was what she uttered accusingly at him whenever she thought he might be with the girl. Dumb.

So now that’s our inside joke for any and all assumed revelations. So begins my story.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA — Mazatlan 1966 – Spring Break

Long ago, 50 years or so ago, I was a young girl enrolling in college. I had been out of school six months and decided it was time to further my education. My mother was unworldly and uneducated for the most part, no help there other than she thought it would be a good idea. So, here I was at registration doing my best to fill out the required forms.

I’d not been a good student, not because I wasn’t smart enough, no it was more the stress of my living environment. My mother married a guy whose five children were all in foster homes. She thought it noble to take them all in, so she (they) requisitioned for them to live with us. One was adopted out to his grandmother before the other four were finally released to us.

Here I am a teenager in high school and our family is expanding. As it was, I had a brother and two sisters already, so adding the other four made us eight. Our parents four years later, would have one more child between the two of them. I was the eldest and I had just turned 16. Mother worked and her new husband was shipped off overseas. There was already the whispering of war ahead, but I was so unaware until Kennedy was shot.

The little ones came to us two at a time. I fell in love with the first two. They were four and six years old. They had lived in Boston, so had the cutest Boston accents.

It would also be the year I would lose my “virginity” willingly.

The other two kids arrived six months later and were not as pleasant. They were 11 and 5. The five year old had a chip on her shoulder a mile wide and the other one was obnoxious. I would be in charge of them all. My list of duties were not unlike those of any parent. I was the parent. As I kept house and cooked meals, my homework went by the wayside. Needless to say, I escaped whenever possible. I went to football games and sneaked out whenever I could. Was I a bad girl? Well, in my heart of hearts I think I knew I wasn’t but like a good many teens I acted out sometimes, “looking for love in all the wrong places”. My self esteem left a great deal to be desired in those days. In truth, I was overwhelmed in every possible way.

There were times I thought of myself as unworthy and as stupid as I imagined everyone else thought I was. Deep inside I struggled to convince myself that I was more than the sum of my parts or than what lay on the surface. I relied on my good looks more than my brains. (Sorry- camera’s weren’t that great then – BF do you remember taking this?)

I remember one time, mom and I got in this big fight. Name calling was what she did best. So, at one point, I’d had enough and left home. My boyfriend at the time had a friend, whose sister lived alone, so I crashed with her, cooking and doing laundry in exchange for room and board. I was good at both those things. During those months, I got straight A’s. I remember one of my teachers saying, “I always knew you were smart. What’s different?” I told him and he was sad. That was short lived however and I, out of concern for my siblings, would eventually move back home. I learned from one of them that with me gone, there was no one to run interference for them and they were miserable. It was what I did. Fight the bad guy.

So, when I graduated high school my grades were less than optimal. I didn’t actually think there was any way for me to go to college. We had no money and my grades were abominable. Then I learned that if I could maintain good grades in Jr. College, I could earn my way into a four year college. I thought, why not?

That is where and how I met K. It was a late enrollment, so there weren’t as many classes open and I was having a hard time deciding what to take. I will never forget how he popped in from out of nowhere to help. That he noticed me was a mystery. He was charming and beautiful and I’m not exaggerating. He of course, got me into two of his classes, Business Law and English which would later become his profession teaching.

I had just gotten over a horrible breakup with the aforementioned boyfriend, who I thought I was in love with. He had up and married unexpectedly, leaving me in the dust. I guess I should have expected it. He had graduated with honors and was attending a four year college and I was … hard on myself. I was devastated and K was so… what I needed.

I poured out my heart to him and he was a good listener. In those days he was quite the surfer dude, always looking for the best waves and places to go for them. We did a lot of fun things together. He was so easy to be with. We were friends.

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During spring break, a group of us planned a trip to Mazatlan. As it turned out, of all the girls planning to go, I was the only one who made it there. Here I was with K and several of his friends. They surfed and I’d lay in the sun. We drank tequila shots with beer, ate raw oysters and drank lots of pina colada’s and margherita’s. Hell, it was spring break!

We hitch-hiked everywhere. Actually, I’d get out in the street and put my thumb out and when someone stopped, the guys would converge on the vehicle and we’d all hop in. I don’t think anyone seriously minded. They all thought it was fun, having this hot girl hitching for them. Yes, I was hot and… I would never have hitch-hiked in the states!

We also rented a jeep for those out of the way places like a lighthouse, (me moving a “formidable” rock in our way) and we

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rented horses and rode on the beach. My nethers hurt so bad from riding as I’d never ridden a horse before, but it was so worth it. That must be why our daughter loves horses. So, yes one thing lead to another.

If I thought K looked like a Greek god before, he looked even more so on the back of a horse.

I didn’t actually know I was pregnant for some time and by then K had gone back to Maryland and was no longer in my life. Interestingly though, when we decided to take a train home, a little old indigenous woman on the train came up to me/us and said I was with child which we thought ridiculous since we’d just done it. I was fairly naive and thought I was suffering from a stomach bug, barfing all the time.

After our daughter was born, I got a job as a flight attendant and would marry a pilot and change my name. Unbeknownst to me, so did K. He went back to his birth name, so in the end neither of us could find the other.

Tina, in the meantime grew up and later married.

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Move the clock forward 34 years later and we would accidentally come across one another via the internet. When his sister told him she had found us. He exclaimed, “How? I’ve been looking for 34 years!” That was good to know.

She got to meet her grandmother and aunts for the first time when she was 35 or 36. I got to meet them as well. They said as far as they are concerned, I’m their “sister” in law. His mom was 96 or 98 at the time and would die just shy of 100, not long after.

Shortly after he would meet his daughter in Amsterdam and later take a trip to Bali and begin celebrating birthdays from the point they were reunited onward.

As for us, we have not seen each other since we parted. I know I wasn’t the love of his life nor was he mine. We were “just friends”.

Would I want to see him or he me? Good question. We’ve seen pictures of one another but not spoken except through emails and through our blogs.

I am currently married to the best person for me. My hubby was able to help me heal in ways that no one else could and it couldn’t get better than that.

As for K? I know he’s single. Been married twice and lives far away.

When our daughter first met him, to paraphrase her, she says to me, “Oh mom, I know now why you fell for him, he is so charming.” LOL

Yes, he is that.

She also asked me if the song “Monday, Monday” meant anything to me.

Oh yeah!

One of these days if we live long enough and if he ever returns to the states, maybe someday we’ll meet again. Who knows?

Blogging

May 26, 2016May 26, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 10 Comments

Wow! route 66

Do you know how long it takes to read blogs? I love them but of late I’ve had to put them on hold. I especially love the friends I’ve made blogging.

There is tandemtrekking, who writes about her beautiful treks across this great country of ours, now in the process of doing the Pacific Coast Trail (?) better known as the PCT.

Nutsrok shares what it’s like to be southern and what it’s like having such a colorful assortment of relatives. Telling her stories with such great humor and candidness; bunKaryudo, I’ll be damned if I know how to pronounce that but then maybe it’s not meant to be said aloud, shares his trials of being a parent and other convivial sides of life. He is always on the hunt for subject matter to keep us entertained with.

Then, there’s thelonelyauthor, with his lovely poems about his humanness and I can’t forget all those posts from “the neighborhood @thepublicblogger“. Not lastly, there’s my friend from the past, Badfish, who shares his beautiful pictures as he journeys and gives his perspective of peoples and countries most of us may never get to know from across the world.

Not mentioned are the many more people I’ve connected with since I started to write this particular blog.

From time to time I’ve been prone to and will reblog other’s posts; if you weren’t named trust me, you’re still very important to me.

BLOGS

Do you ever start, stop then after awhile start again, figurin’ it’s been long enough?

That’s me. I’ve got three half started blogs, no five. This is one of them. So now there’s four.

Lately I’ve had so much on my plate. Working on what I should be working on, screenplays and trying to battle moles and gophers from my yard and finding a way of getting my yard looking half way decent within the restricted water parameters in California.

I debated on graveling the front and/or the back, but my neighbor spent thousands on just a small 6 X 15 foot stretch in his front yard and I’ve got 5 times the yard. No, I’m not ready to do that yet. It is interesting but California had us restrict our water usage and Californians being conservation minded complied, then the water board proceeds to announce that all our water rates will rise to compensate for the lack of revenue! We can’t win!

This is one of those times I wish I were back in Alabama where rainfall is consistent enough to not need irrigation or outside water sources.

It’s time for a breather.

Julia and I at Hollywood Film Fest

I had a sweet Young lady visiting from France, Julia Pajot. We met on LinkedIn and became friends. After communicating for some time she came out for a visit. She was recognized for her music in an animated short that is making the film festival circuits. The following link as a beautiful piece and the pas de dux is a short she won an award for.

https://www.youtube.com/user/juliapajot

Dreamworks

She’s an amazing, young composer.

Through and with her, I had the grand privilege of attending some Academy animated film screenings. One at Dreamworks and another at The Writer’s Guild. Later we would view her animated short at the Beverly Hills Film Festival.

At one point I had to say “time out”, I’m not as young as I used to be and I had trouble keeping up with her. She was patient with me. <grin>

(If I’d known I’d get a red carpet pic, I’d have worn something different.)

We’d have fun for a couple of days and then I’d have to rest a couple of days. Seriously.

How she managed to stay up until one or two in the morning networking and hobnobbing, I don’t know. That’s not true. I do remember those days when I had no trouble staying out late. <sigh>

I too, was patient and I didn’t blame her, you got to make hay while the sun shines, and she had to make the best use of her time while here. She is now back in France but her efforts paid off and she is now in the process of getting a work visa to return.

Ahhh youth! At Dance a thon

In the meantime, the gophers and moles have been contained… for the time being anyway and my lawn is acquiring some color again.

I also got back into exercising but only for awhile. I think I’m prone to going at it like I was killing snakes and ended up overdoing and now have to take time out to heal my poor body. Ugh!

Isn’t it funny how our minds still think young and our bodies belie us? What am I saying? Didn’t I keep up with those young ladies at the Hollywood Dance a Thon for more than six hours?! Of course, it did take a week to recover.

So I take time off to let my shoulder, hip and knees recover and next time I start out at a much slower pace. That was the beauty of having a trainer, she made sure I didn’t hurt myself. I can keep up and do the work, but after a few weeks my body doth protest. A bigger sigh. <grin>

It was lots of fun, but now it’s time to get back to work. C’est la vie! Oh well.

the Singing Caged Bird is Free

April 25, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 3 Comments

finding tranquility in the circle of life, when the baton is passed from a legend

Source: the Singing Caged Bird is Free

Badian, Cebu Canyoneering: There is a hidden magical secret

April 21, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 5 Comments

Making it at the destination you have never planned is equally interesting than a well planned travel. My cousin (Genelyn Wanan), unexpectedly asking me if I can bring her to some of the interestin…

Source: Badian, Cebu Canyoneering: There is a hidden magical secret

The Stranger

April 20, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 3 Comments

Beautiful.

The Difference in Boys

April 9, 2016May 3, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 12 Comments

I’ve talked at great length about my girls, their tats and other things, but surprisingly said little about my boys.

I was extremely more connected to my girls, I will admit that. I got to wondering why that was.

Perhaps it is the fact that boys are just different. As boys they of course have different needs, different from me and different from each other. As any parent can attest, all children are unique. I had mostly sisters and I was the eldest and always in charge. I never really understood my brothers much, plus the youngest two were young enough to be my children, the youngest is only 5 months older than my oldest daughter. So I didn’t have a great deal of experience with boys.

Perhaps it was the fact too that I had the luxury of being a stay at home mom with my girls, whereas when the boys father and I divorced they were still young and I had to go to work. It’s not ideal, but that’s how it was.

I remember how much I’d struggled to support them. There was no child support because we had joint custody. His custodial obligation was to maintain insurances and pay for any medical. At least I didn’t have to worry about that. We lived a block away from one another “for the kids” sake and my home was the one closest to the bus stop so they managed to be at my house more than their dads.

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My eldest, Ry, was the most affected by the divorce. He was totally devastated and embarrassed. He had always been so proud that of all his classmates, we were one of only a couple of parents not divorced and he liked that. He was only seven then when he became aware of the difference and he would be nine or ten when we divorced. Even though it was I who left, he didn’t forgive his dad for not being man enough to keep me. We all lost.

It wasn’t until he joined the Marines that he learned to forgive and let me be a part of his life again. God Bless the Marines.

Oh, I did things with him, took him on camping trips, track meets, fishing, hiking, mountain climbing and school functions but it wasn’t enough. There was still this enormous emotional chasm. But I didn’t give up. I bulldozed myself into his life. I did all the things a dad should do with his boys because that’s how I am and his father didn’t. That was the only leverage I had. Thank goodness I was such an outdoorsy person. He was outgoing and popular but after a time, he separated himself from his closest friends.

Now Ian is a total opposite.

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He is not sporty or terribly coordinated. He was also very shy. So shy, he couldn’t even talk on the phone! Terrified if anyone spoke to him. I know, you’d never guess that by the above pictures. He spent most of his time hiding behind my “skirt”, afraid of his own shadow. He’s also ADD and fortunately not ADHD. Bright but inattentive or so it would appear. I don’t think a complete diagnosis was ever made clear, but he was delayed developmentally. Today I’m inclined to think it may have been a form Asperger’s.

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Ry had a fourth grade teacher that I thought should have retired long ago. She didn’t make over him like all his previous teachers had, so he liked her the least. Ian was to get her the following year. We dreaded it.

It was she that identified he had a problem. I knew about dyslexia and other learning disabilities and had been around children with ADHD but this was different. She suggested we have him tested. She said he couldn’t sit still for a minute, homework was a chore and half the time it appeared he wasn’t paying attention, yet he was learning. He tested grade 15 in reading, spelling and comprehension but double entendre’s escaped him. He was unable to get jokes yet was extremely intuitive. Science tested out at about grade 8. He was at grade 4 in math which was at grade level and grade 2 in physical abilities. In second grade, his teacher said his delayed motor skills were affecting his learning, but we didn’t know what to do about it. His father was not into any sport other than cycling which he did rarely and that was only because his dad’s business was bicycles. This new teacher loved him though and he bonded with her and at years end they both cried the last day of school. I’m guessing he challenged her and made teaching interesting rather than mundane. That’s the teacher you want for your special needs child.

After that, we kept getting pressure to medicate, which I was totally against. Ritalin was relatively new on the market and I didn’t want my son to be a guinea pig. As it is, they did find years later many young people succumbed to it’s negative effects including drug addiction*. “the government classifies the psychoactive drug (Ritalin) with cocaine and morphine because it is highly addictive.”**

Ian and I bonded more for the same reason his teacher had, his needs demanded more. I was also closer to Ian in many other ways as well. He was extremely affectionate and we liked the same things. Both boys have amazing voices but only Ian seemed to like singing. I like singing. We connected further when I told my acting coach how shy he was and she suggested letting her help.

She started out running lines with him in the back of the room. Eventually they worked their way to the front. Not all at once of course, but a little at a time. He was 12. Eventually, he got so good that after playing a scene from Moonstruck where he was Nicholas Cage, she yelled at the rest of the men in her class and said,

“That is how it’s done! This kid at 14 convinced me he wanted to take me to bed and, I know he didn’t mean it.” Everyone was silent. But, that’s acting and he was darn good at it.

Both boys could be quite funny. Ry more than Ian but it was rare they were funny together.

Once Ian was singled out as “different”, Ry pulled away from his brother and even became his arch enemy adding insult to injury by parroting his peers, which only brought Ian and I even closer together. This he regretted later. Kids called Ian “dummy” even though he was smarter than they were and the popular kids especially picked on him. To make their life easier we sent them to different schools. Ry could do his sports in public school and Ian would go to a private school for awhile. There he actually fit in and found friends. He could do his artsy things and not have to worry about being compared to his brother. It took a load off Ry as well. I don’t think he meant to be mean, he didn’t know or understand his brother’s special needs, but then neither did we. Today they are fine.

To be fair Ry had begun to have his own issues to contend with. His deciduous teeth had not fallen out on their own and his adult teeth were crowding in on top. Some refer to it as “popcorn teeth”. It was one more nail on the coffin for him. By ten he began the process of tooth extractions and years of orthodontia and the once gorgeous, confident kid felt like a freak. Add the physical pain that went with it and his inability to eat comfortably, he withdrew from his friends and hooked up with a neighbor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. His home life was a revolving door for drinking, drugs and who knows what else, so the company his mom kept left much to be desired. But, his friend liked to fish, so they went fishing all the time.

I felt like I never saw him, but it kept him busy and it gave him so much joy plus he was good at it. The “kid” was basically a good kid and he was always polite, so I figured maybe being around us could help him but I still sensed trouble, not right away but eventually. Because of that I kept my mom radar up and was always on alert. As signs were realized, my greatest fear was affirmed. Drugs. Mostly, but not just pot. For all my intent, it was a friend of ours who actually spotted it first.

We then put him on notice. No more friend. Drug tests would be at random intervals and he wouldn’t know when. At first he balked and angrily fought me on it and yes I hit him well, slapped him. I was in a rage, frustrated and devastated but not certain at what or at whom. I had always vowed I would never do anything out of anger, yet anger did get the best of me. When I saw Nick’c mom from “Fear The Walking Dead” go after her druggy son, I understood. The emotions are complex, I felt helpless but mostly I felt so guilty. I’d let him down with the divorce and I felt guilty about Ian. I think too that out of all that his parents suddenly unite against him. He eventually acquiesced. In truth, I think he was actually relieved. I felt so sorry for him. So many things had gone wrong – his teeth, the friends he no longer had, a brother he didn’t understand, his broken family and he’s lost and perhaps afraid. Everything that could be wrong in his life, was and he was overwhelmed.

Finally and I believe it was God’s intervention, but he met a classmate at school that brought it all together. They started lifting weights and Ry started going to church with the boys family. All Ry ever talked about was how this couple had married young and were still married and what an amazing family they were. More guilt. We didn’t exist for him. I remained guarded and I was jealous but I would swallow my pride because at least he wasn’t on drugs.

My heart couldn’t have been more broken. I wanted him to feel that way about us. I wanted us to be a family.

I knew he wanted to go to college but I couldn’t afford to send him to school and his dad said he couldn’t afford it either. Rys grades were good, but not good enough for scholarships although they might have been had he not gotten waylay-ed. His friend, the young fishing friend joined the army and Ry races home one day and announces he’d joined the Marines.

Interestingly, I believe all that history made Ry a better Marine. He wanted to do something that was punishing yet redeeming. At least that was how I saw it. When he completed his training, he came out forgiving and loving his family more than I could have hoped for. He said, the Marines taught him that family comes first. He still loves his surrogate family but he now included us in his world.

Ry was not a big guy so he had to fight to get and stay in. His DI’s told me at his graduation that they had not expected him to make it, but he did where others had failed. They said he had inspired them and everyone else in his platoon. I could not have been more proud. I remembered his track coach saying the same thing. “Not the best but certainly the most enduring.” His drill instructors bestowed upon him their own globe and anchor, the highest honor a recruit could receive from his superior officers. He was applauded for his tenacity and determination.

Because he had scored so high on the aptitude tests, they singled him out for embassy duty. In the meantime the Iraqi war had begun and we thought he’d have to go. For sure they would send him to Iraq. Surprisingly they didn’t.

At one point he said he was unsure he’d make the cut because of the drug incident. After several interviews and psychiatric evals they asked the big D question. His saving grace was that he didn’t lie. We all worried and waited. Finally, he got word. They told him normally that would have prevented him from being accepted as a candidate but they appreciated more than anything his honesty. They had conferred with his DI’s and other superior officers he’d worked with and came back with his acceptance. Next step was off to Quantico for the CIA training all MSG’s must pass. His training was grueling but he made it. They outfitted them all with variations of the same wardrobe, looking pretty much like clones. Boy did he look handsome though. They ran more background checks but now of the entire family before his selection was complete.

Ironically, my brother, who also works on high security clearance projects was due for his series of background checks. So our family and friends were hit with simultaneous scrutiny. Our closest neighbor approached us one day and teasingly asked us, “What in the hell have you all been into?!” This is one occasion where they do check. No worries, we’re good. We cleared them all. He would later get pulled from his post in Kiev to secure the grounds and guard the president for the NATO summit. What an honor!

Ry is now out of the military. With the GI bill, he was able to graduate college and is now a father of three, two of his own and a foster child they will be adopting. He also has a child recently diagnosed with mild autism, smart like Ian but with learning issues. He is three and Ry loves him to death. Fortunately, he married to a young lady who is a teacher that just happens to specialize in children with special needs. I think now too, Ry not only because he is older and wiser and remembering his own shortcomings dealing with his brother, he will no doubt redeem himself with his son. Until the adoption is formalized, I cannot include a family picture as foster children are protected by HIPPA.

Over the years Ian has bounced around living with various family members. His dad, sister and us and for a brief time attempted to live on his own but failed at it miserably. When he came to live with us for awhile, he and I did dramas at church. Our church loved hearing him sing so he was frequently asked to perform and occasionally we’d sing duets together. Despite his trepidation, he always came through magnificently. At 33, he is now finally on his own for the first time in his life. He is attending Full Sail University off and on and still has difficulty staying on task but he’s doing better. He was studying gaming and digital animation but may reevaluate his major in that. It’s the learning that challenges him the most. He has an on and off again girl friend who seems to be extremely patient with him and seems to be motivating him to find his niche. His mind still wanders but he’s exploring art and finding he does it well. Even so, he’s an awesome young man. They both are and I love them immensely.

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Ryan doing the Lewa Marathon while stationed in Nairobi, competing with barefoot Kenyans. The group picture is Ry with a Peace Corp group he met and with fellow Marines that also love to run. He also got to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro while stationed there which is 19,340 feet high. He says it was grueling and at times wasn’t sure he’d get to the top, but he did. Of course.

Ian and I at High School graduation and a before and after moving out on his own and getting fit. The last being Ian today.

*http://www.drugfreeworld.org/drugfacts/ritalin/the-vicious-effects-of-prescription-stimulants.htm

**http://ritalinsideeffects.net/

Partiality and Color

April 6, 2016April 7, 2016 ~ Joliesattic ~ 2 Comments

Why do we do it?

Why do we tend to segregate ourselves despite our aversion to do so?

Are we no different than pack animals limiting ourselves to our own kind? I had chickens once. I had black Cochins and white Silkies. Both were Bantams. For some reason, they would segregate, the blacks on one side, the whites in another cluster. It was quite peculiar because I do know other breeds do mix. Yet, its parallel in people.

Blue Cochin Bantam Hen | Flickr - Photo Sharing! Silkie Bantam pictures, video, information and chicks.

This is something I have noticed being commonly done, being partial to ones of our own ethnicity.

When I worked at the health department in Alabama, I noticed it with my coworkers. The blacks seldom wanted to have lunch with whites. They’d always go off and do their own thing and never invite us and often refused our invitations (doing so kindly) to have lunch together or do some other activity outside of work. Yet, some were quick to take offense at assumed or unintended slights, reading more into them than there was.Yes, there were intended ones as well and from both sides. Defenses were up, no doubt.

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In the eight years I worked there, I was only invited out once by a black coworker, she retired shortly thereafter. We had a great time. One young lady joined our staff just before I left and when she could, as her schedule permitted, she would join us and we’d have fun, we became room mates of sorts later. She was highly educated and I think having had a white roommate in college, it helped her become more relaxed. Few do and that can be both ways.

Do we look at ourselves as if we are different, singled out or put upon somehow? What I think is at work here is fear. Fear of not belonging. We have been brainwashed for so long and our differences emphasized that that is where our heads are at.

It is no wonder I seldom felt I belonged. I was half white, half Hispanic. I grew up in California and found that white girls didn’t like my “Spanish” blood and Hispanic girls despised my “whiteness”. I thought white, not Mexican, so that didn’t help either. In truth, I knew little of my Mexican culture so you can imagine how lost I felt. Surprisingly, or so you would think, but it was in Alabama that I found acceptance for me being just me. It was there I found some of my dearest friends. No one cared about my color except those who were of color. It was a conundrum. They thought I should be sensitive to it, but I wasn’t.

Of course I have to admit that for so many years the hostility in the south was so great that it’s no wonder it continues to be an issue. The whites I knew would go out of their way to be kind, but few had black friends. We had one black woman married to a white man in our church. One friend said of her, “she doesn’t know she’s black” . I had to think about that awhile. Many races see themselves as race first, people second. Her mindset was people period.

She and her husband had been married over forty years. Think about that. They were a couple just shortly after segregation was banned. Do you think it was hard for them? You betcha. She and I had a long conversations about that and it took some doing but she did it .and she did it almost single handedly. Everyone in the congregation loved her and her children.

Blacks feel a need to support other blacks. Hispanics, Hispanics and so forth.

Perhaps that is why we see so many pocket communities. In L.A. for example you drive through and even looking at the map, sections are called. “Chinatown”, Tokyotown, and Koreatown.” There is the Watts area for blacks and Pomona or east LA and other regions where you find primarily Hispanics. They feel “safe” in their respective areas.

It used to have a chip on my shoulder for the elitist class or those who I thought were. When I was a girl, from my perspective, blondes always did have more fun. They all seemed to come from more affluent families and gifted new cars their senior year. Guys always seemed to like blondes better, but I was dark. Seldom did I know of or see Hispanics who were affluent.

I understand why people rally behind someone of their ethnicity when for so long they were seldom granted the privilege of a higher education or other advantages. Not unlike women in the workforce, but that has changed and in some cases is an advantage.

In truth I could sight an inordinate litany of injustices I personally experienced but I don’t allow myself to stay there, because I find it counter productive.

I would like to see us reach a point to where color or region is of lesser importance.

When I got a promotion at work, a woman and regular customer of mine asked where I’d been. When I told her I’d gotten a promotion, she rejoiced saying, “I always love to hear when one of “our kind” succeeds”. I was taken aback at the remark. I never thought of myself as being a “kind” of anything. I then became sad and very disappointed she felt that way, and finally angry. Why must it be that way? It has always been my assumption we are all created equal. I didn’t see myself as different.

Why should I make it on anything else but my own merit? Shouldn’t we be willing to go the extra mile for all?

Why are we, as humans, so compelled? God is not partial. Why are we?

I know that today many who embrace the idea that leveling the playing field economically will equalize societal norms, but I’m afraid they are mislead. That basic instinct just can’t be so easily erased. In fact there’s a good chance that the inequalities of 100 years ago may resurface.

Why is there this innate need to bring others down to raise ourselves up? As everyone struggles to rise to the top they become like the frog in a tub of cream, squishing everyone else down.

I recall dating this guy from La Jolla. His parents were very affluent and yet I’m sure thought themselves quite progressive. After meeting me he called to break it off. His parents didn’t like me. Two reasons. One, I was Hispanic, the other, I did not come from money. It broke my heart. I didn’t really care about him so much, but more that my biggest insecurity had been reaffirmed. I’m not good enough. I was more hurt that they never gave me a chance because I AM GOOD ENOUGH! I knew it in my heart, but sometimes the brain didn’t get the message.

CLASS REUNION –

I recently attended my 50th class reunion. I was amazed at how many guys, now men who came up to me with my husband and told me how intimidated they had been because I was so “hot”. They were afraid to even approach me!! Sometimes, what I perceived as alienation because of a previous bad experience or supposed opinion had nothing to do with reality.

Once I was married to a man with money and I had few friends. Only two to be exact because they were the only ones not intimidated by it. After we divorced I chose not to attach or claim any of “our” money (that was a mistake) but in any case, I was now “poor” and it was amazing the comments I got. “You are so much nicer now” was the big one. I responded with “I’m the same person I ever was”. Their reality was that rich people are snobs.

LESSONS LEARNED –

I had a neighbor tell me when he found me crying one day, “not to worry” people were “just jealous” because not only was I attractive, I was well manicured and well off. My own prejudgements came to bite me in the butt. Granted, I still wasn’t blonde, but isn’t that what I used to think? Silly.

I found out later that on an occasion when I invited a few needy people from church to the house once, they never forgot. One wife of an elder told others she thought I was “showing off”, trying to make them feel bad for what they didn’t have. I even kept it simple in order to not come across like that. That hurt worse than a thousand daggers.

I held onto my two friends and cherished them for not being petty. I sucked it up and learned another valuable lesson about friends and money.

Partiality is all encompassing.

When I read about bringing down big business, I think of my own limited experience.

It makes no sense at all.

Is it jealousy? Do people want to bring others down to level the playing field so they don’t feel so bad about having less? Why?

I’m thinking about businesses here. There’s been a cry to penalize them and tying their hands to restrict profits thinking it can help the little guy. Is there anyone out there that truly believes that? They’ll just take their business elsewhere and many have. I see it as inviting a criminal element, because it’s like guns. The bad guys will always get them. Then there’s the matter of when they make their product elsewhere, the only ones who suffer are those that lose their jobs as a result.

I’m not anti actor, but some of the biggest proponents of bringing down big business are actors who get an enormous amount of money for what they do. Shall we drop their wage accordingly, so that there is one flat fee for everyone? Why should one person make more money than another for doing the same thing? “Share the wealth”, they say. I’m sorry, but if you take a little from a whole lot, it’s no big deal, but if you take a little from a little, it’s a lot. They don’t seem to get that.

It’s great they have the luxury to indulge their sense of self worth by philanthropic activities but not every one can do that. I, however do not want to take away from what they can do and instead applaud them. At least they are doing something.

It’s easy to call the shots when you aren’t the one hurting, or struggling to make ends meet. It’s easy to sway and convince the person who is set on believing that “the rich get all the breaks”, “the rich get richer”, “life’s not fair” and it’s always “someone else’s fault” they haven’t succeeded to gang up and hurt someone or something else as a solution to their problem.

If you destroy all incentives, all the reasons to try, then what’s the point? That mentality breaks the spirit. A broken spirit ceases to try.

We have become a society of entitlement minded people. Well, I hate to break this to anyone, but we are not entitled to anything we haven’t worked for.

I’ve done many jobs in my life and I know how easy it is to see someone sailing smoothly along through life thinking their job/life is easy. I’ve tried those jobs or known people who’ve done them. Well, it’s never as easy as it looks. Everything in life takes effort. Everything in life worth having takes effort. Be it a job, a career, a business, a marriage, a relationship. EVERYTHING.

The rich guy is rich because he or someone connected to him busted his butt to get their regardless of the route taken. Stop and think about it. The cartel or mafioso has ill gains, but he worked his ass off, broken a few heads or taken a few lives to do so, but… it still took work.

I saw people on welfare working all the angles trying to get something for nothing and yet, it was a full time job for them to do so, all the while grousing about the “rich” guy. They spent hours in our facility and other places constantly getting all this “free” stuff. If they put that much effort into a regular job they’d be way ahead. (At least some of them would.) Some, like crooks, were better at working all the angles than others and that will always be the case.

If all of us put forth as much effort in changing what we do and how we think or what we say rather than belly-aching about the past which cannot be changed, we may actually affect a noticeable and positive transformation. Wouldn’t that be beautiful? HP_6