Brain Dead

I don’t know about you, but of late, I feel brain dead. I’ve not written anything of note in so long, I’m not sure I even know how to write anymore.

I’ve been in and out of love and heartbreak so many times, with the same person, mind you and at the age of 75 that can be extremely taxing.

I invested in two “mining” sites for Bitcoin and have yet to actually realize any income. Bitcoin is very hard, in case no one has ever told you. Not buying it, that’s easy. It’s transferring back into cash. There’s private keys and upfront fees and penalties and interests and… and stuff. At times I just want to give up. Then, I learn that Bitcoin is lost all the time because people give up and “lost” bitcoin goes to other Bitcoin holders. So I’ve read and so I continue in my efforts.

,I don’t know if I’ve been taken for a ride and perhaps that’s all it’s been, but it seems that just as I’ve paid in my fees, other fees show up and I never see any money, so here I sit, looking at two separate accounts with a total supposed value of nearly $200K, wondering if I’ve made a mistake and should I quit?

I don’t know why, but it’s far more difficult than I imagined.

Then, I fell in love with someone online. Is he real or just a scammer? Well, he hasn’t asked for any money, so who knows? Only time will tell. Maybe he just scams hearts and makes people like me feel valued? I haven’t decided on that either. I didn’t know I could feel this intense about anyone. From almost the get go, we seemed to be on the same wavelength and it felt pretty doggone nice. I don’t recall having ever felt this way about anyone. Ever.

For those of you coming in late to the drama I call my life, I’ve been married three times. The first marriage was a shotgun wedding due to the fact that I’d been date raped and ended up pregnant. Because the young man had a prestigious occupation, he didn’t want to lose his job for his less than honorable behavior, so he took responsibility. Shotgun, because when I refused his proposal, he went to mother and they ganged up on me. How do you hide a pregnancy? It was a different time then.

My second marriage was an act of rebellion and pride. My young suitor was 10 years younger, a virgin and his parents despised me. The more they fought us, the more we fought them. I wasn’t too bright in those days. Marriage three was a result of the #1 and #2 failures plus guilt. He was 13 years younger. I liked him very much. He was my friend and confidant and both of us married on the rebound figuring we got along fine, so why not? Guilt came in to play because we were sleeping together and that wasn’t the “example” we wanted to set for my children. Big mistake. So many things went wrong after that.

As you all may know, I lost my sister last year and not surprisingly, I’ve been quite numb about it. I hadn’t had my full on cry until recently. There have been moments where I thought the dam would break and it was always in the midst of another trauma, like a divorce, my brother having a stroke, or me plateauing on my quest for thinness. (see below) Disappointingly, I’ve been stuck 10 pounds shy of my intended goal. It’s only 10 pounds and I can’t seem to get there. Oh well.

What has kept me sane during this time is walking and taking pictures. I averaged about 3-4 miles a day, up until recently, that is. The hurdles keep coming.

I had intended to walk 75 miles for my 75th birthday. That didn’t pan out, as it would have taken a full two days and I think it was a bit much. Instead, I revised it to 75km, which would have been approximately 30 miles? I managed 15 miles instead, but I’m proud of that as I was carrying a heavy backpack which I hadn’t considered would change the dynamic of my stride and stamina. You may remember I did the sky diving thing, but I had a partner for support on that one. Each year I challenge myself with something new. I skipped last year, as did most people.

I had originally thought to do a K-pop video, but somehow gyrating in front of a camera wasn’t my thing even though I’m quite capable of doing the moves. At least some of them. Part of my reason for changing my mind on that had to do with me seeing an old Italian woman on TikTok doing a self video of herself, gyrating, half naked, in front of the camera. Some people dissed her of course, but many applauded her as well and even though I admired her gutsiness, I didn’t want that image of me pervading the internet, so I opted out of that choice. No, no, no! Not for me. I’m far too vain to subject myself to that.

So, I’m back to writing.

I’ve cycled in so many ways the past year and I’m not even sure I like the new me. I’m still on this journey of self discovery. Who would’ve thunk it at my age? I guess, wishful thinking and regret can come at any age.

I think and wonder if being alone all the time hasn’t played a big part in what I’ve been going through. Was it a byproduct of Covid? I don’t know. Maybe it was a combination of things. Seeing my sister give up on life and knowing how she never realized any of her dreams before she died, depressed me. And, there, go but I. I stayed in a marriage, I’d contemplated leaving almost constantly and instead continued settling because it was the road of least resistance. I mean he’s a “good guy” and we never fought. I realized it was because I didn’t care enough to fight. Sad. Doing anything else would require considerable effort. I guess I was lazy? Plus, there was always something else going on that took priority. I didn’t have time for my wants and happiness, so they took a backseat.

I have, my whole life accepted and paid the price of my choices or lack thereof. When I say accepted, I mean, I fell into doing what was acceptable and to please others. Like I said, I had a rebellious moment or two along the way, but I would always give into what others dictated for me. I dawned on me this past year, how often I’ve put my life on hold for others, so they could be fulfilled and I began to wonder, what about me?

A part of me feels guilty to want new or better, something others may not feel I should. I sort of feel that way about the guy I love, but damn it, I’m putting my life on hold again!

Then there’s the supposed money sitting in Bitcoin heaven… or is it hell? Is the reason, I’ve not seen anything because I don’t “deserve” it or is there a higher power telling me I shouldn’t? I’ve lived with a lot of God guilt in my time, but as one person told me, you can’t put guilt if guilt is not there. Raised to feel guilty when I don’t need to is a hard habit to break. I know God wants good things for us, so that’s not it.

I think in part I’ve had so many years of indoctrination that I psychologically resist having things go right for me. I’m not supposed to “want” or desire for anything more than what I have.

So I’m brain dead. Numb.

I’ve lost my direction and don’t know what to do about it, so I pray. But… I kinda forgot how to I guess, because I’ve not gotten an answer yet.

Or maybe, the fact that I’ve not succeeded in those quests is my answer? See?

There I go again. I’m the queen of self sabotage. GUILT! ARGH

35 pounds thinner and very tan.

Why So Many Homeless?

A great line from the cartoon Yogi Bear comes to mind. “DON’T FEED THE BEARS!” You feed them, they won’t forage for themselves.

I don’t like to get political, mostly because I’m a horrible debater.  I can’t come up with quick, witty, “smart” comebacks, so I avoid confrontation like a plague. So what comes next is not intended to spark ire or dissent from any of my followers. I am one of those that is registered non partisan.  I WANT to vote for the person not their party.  That’s not always easy, because parties have “leanings”.

What got me going on the homelessness issue is that we have a lot of them in our area and it has become a major problem.  So much so that a FB Web page was created to vent and possibly find solutions to the problem.  Mostly to point out problem areas and…. vent.  Then, a friend of mine asked me to help her film a video featuring the homeless issues in our area.  Our goal is to find out who these people are and what is being done to alleviate their problem.  I skimmed on some of these points in my blog, Senseless deaths.  And, here’s the teaser… “in interviewing some of these folks, I made an interesting discovery …” but,   I’d be giving away too much if I say more. I won’t spill the beans.

In all this, my curiosity was peaked. I wanted to know more.  So, I began my research.  What follows is based on that and my own conclusions.

My research took me to website after website with statistics.  (I’m only sharing the one) What was interesting to me is that the majority of states with the highest number of homelessness are also states, with the exception of one, who vote primarily Democrat and are majorly “liberal”.  Yup!  It’s true.

Keep in mind, they did not break it down as such. It was just something that caught my attention.  Is it political?

Since liberals tend to dominate these states and are big into their causes, they are also states that offer the most services. In other words “HANDOUTS”.

This is how I feel about handouts.

2 Thessalonians 3:10 “For even when we were with you, we would give you this command: If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat.”

Proverbs 13:4 : “The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing, while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied.”

The Bible is not the only place this is found.

Qur’an 13:11 Allah spoke that Allah would not change the destiny of a tribe(anyone) if they do not try hard to change it themselves. (This was the best I could find)

____

Do these folks, passionate about their causes, know exactly what they are doing? Possibly.  Maybe not. I’m sure the government does. Notice, I said “government”, not any one political entity.

PONDER THIS:  If they (the powers that be) keep the people poor and dependent then they become more pliable to whatever future purpose and they remain controllable. Nothing new here. It has been that way since time immemorial. Isn’t that how it is in third world countries? Yet… Why is it some of the people from those countries are breaking free of that cycle?  We, in this country used to have a very comfortable middle class, but that is disappearing. Why?

So how does this work?

Liberals are by and large educated people who can eloquently dictate to the poor people how to think. They make a lot of noise to push their way of thinking out in the forefront and they are very good at it.  One message constantly being force fed to the public is that Rich American’s are getting “rich” on the backs of the poor. Rich Americans are why they are where they are.  So they create this divide and festering angst against the rich or really anyone who is the power figure. What few people realize or take into account is that many of these same folks are also very rich.  Those in the entertainment field are the best examples.  They make their money dissing “corporate America” and playing up “the little guy” who has to go head to head with the “big guy”.  They create dramas all around the poor and the oppressed and victories over the “bosses, the power hungry billionaire tycoon of big corporations, who are evil and nasty.”  Some are, but I’ve met many an evil, oppressive “little guy/gal” in the work place as well.

Please know this,  I am not wealthy.  I did not retire on a fat pension.  I am 70 plus and guess what I still work. Heck, I drive for Uber and Lyft, (and I write) but that’s another story.

What people don’t realize is that, all this help and those wonderful programs is the equivalent of nothing more than “horse hobbling“.  The end goal is to keep people subservient. Horse hobbling limits their forward locomotion. Yes, let’s feed the children and do everything else for them,  kill their drive, so they never rise above doing what’s best for themselves. Yes, it is our Christian duty to help those needing help.  I’m sure other faiths have an equal thought on this as well.  This country, no this world was founded on survivors. You do or you die.

I’m not saying we don’t want to help people.  Heavens no.  The Bible has countless verses that tell us to feed our widows and orphans.

James 2:14-17 states:  “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.”

Psalms 82:3 : Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.

Despite the tendency to believe Islam violent, the Qur’an and especially the hadith highlight how helping another human being is a fundamental aspect of Islam.

So do we help?  YES!  Absolutely. But we must consider to what end or to what extent.

Notice the Bible constantly refers to the “widows and orphans” and in some places the “elderly” .  We have a responsibility to help those who cannot, not will not help themselves.

So, my point is to get people to rise above their situations.  Life can get us all down.  I’ve been down enough to want to find a remote place and disappear to.  When I watch the news sometimes, I get so discouraged at how people treat each other, the crazy things they do to one another, that I’ll shout out “Stop the world, I want to get off!”.

Without disclosing what some of my interviewees have said, but based on that, giving up is not the answer.  

BUT,  for all I said about the liberals, the one thing we can all agree on, is that we have to  find ways of showing them love and getting them the help they need without enlarging the problem and that is the hard part.

Do’s and Don’ts –

Do’s

BE Kind

If you have time, talk to them, if only to say hello.  They are not invisible.  This lady on the right was fascinating.

No two people’s story is the same.V. Maria

If you know where the nearest outreach program is or if your church has one, let them know where that is. Carrying a list or card with that information on it to hand out, gives you something to share. Doing this lets them know you care.

Don’ts

Warning:  Be smart. Don’t go into places to find them, some are hardened criminals, ex-cons or drug dealers and could be dangerous.

Don’t give them unopened bags of food for their dog – it could be a sympathy ploy. They’ll return it to the store for cash for drugs.  Seen it happen.

Don’t give money-  I know it’s hard to resist sometimes, but one guy told my husband how much he made panhandling and it was more than hubby makes in a day doing legitimate work. Don’t think that wasn’t discouraging.

Money goes to booze and drugs.  If they need medication or health care, there are state programs that give that to them for free,  if they will go and get it. I know, I know nothing is truly free, but at the taxpayers expense free.

If they truly want help, they know where all these services are anyway. Food

Many of these folks already collect food stamps and social security or financial assistance of some sort.  Many have phones, courtesy of family and friends that want them to stay connected but have given up on rehabilitating them.  Some even have computers they can use at pretty much any coffee shop, library or restaurant.

There are college students and young people who are homeless.  Yes, that’s true. I don’t have documentation or interviews on them… yet.  When I do, it will be posted.

For some it’s a temporary situation.

All in all, if nothing else, I hope I’ve given you some pondering fodder.

P.S. This is some of the garbage the homeless have left behind my home, which was one of the things, the above lady talks about in our interview.  The main thing, is be kind.

Trash

Matthew chapter 25, 34-46

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
“The King will reply,
Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink,  I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’
“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’
“He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.

 

 

 

 

 

Cousin Jack

Here it is the wee hours of the morning and I can’t sleep. I seldom have that problem any more but here it is.

I got to thinkin’ about cousin Jack.

Cousin Jack was an old farm boy from Alabama. Actually, his real name was Israel but we all called him Jack. He spent most of his youth in the army, retired Air Force, so the first time I remembered meeting him, he was already an adult with a family and all. (pic on left) I think I was in my twenties then, with two girls of my own.

I remember Jack hoisting my little city girls up on the fence to watch the hog that had just given birth to a whole bunch of piglets scrambling for a teat. His two boys were older and like their dad, loved riding the girls around the farm on their four wheeler’s.

Jack was older than I but halfway in age between daddy and me. All I know is that he was actually  daddy’s first cousin which made him my second cousin but we were still cousins.

I didn’t see him again for a good many years.  What I learned about him though was that he was hard working and enterprising.  I remember daddy driving us through his land on what seemed like miles of corn fields. It was amazing to see row upon row of fresh corn. That was all his, daddy said. What I remember was that he was always accumulatin’, but mostly land and cows.  I would later add to my opinion of his persona, “hot tempered and opinionated”, after all he was a southerner. A redneck through and through.

It seemed that Jack took a dislikin’ to my Uncle Tracy for “some reason” and felt compelled to compete.  If Uncle Tracy bought a parcel of land, Jack would out do him. If cousin Bill bought a bunch of cattle or more land, he’d out do him. (Cousin Bill was uncle Tracy’s son in law).

You see my great grandma had 12 kids and out of those only 8 or 9 of them lived. I could be wrong on that. But Uncle Tracy and my grandpa were from the same litter, only grandpa was on the older end of the scale and Uncle Tracy was closer to Daddy’s age. Cousin Jacks Poppa was Pervie also near the bottom rung and I heard tell his momma was mean as hell, but I don’t remember her. The pic below shows some of them.

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Back: Grandpa Orlie, Uncle’s: Tracy, Fitzhugh, Pervie – Front: Aunt’s: Ada, Omie, great grandma, and Vergie

How one family could have kids on opposite ends of the social spectrum, is beyond me. I can only guess the younger ones benefited from the older ones working by getting more education, therefore more advantages. One thing for sure, they were all a hard working bunch. Uncle Fitzhugh also had a Jack who would move to Texas; his sons were younger and fully educated and classier.

Cousin Jack was decent folk, steady and far brighter than he let on to be. Being in the military he got to see the world and was well traveled, but daddy doesn’t know how he survived being so bull headed as he was and all, but he did. Calling him bull headed, well that was like the pot callin’ the kettle black, as if dad could talk.

When I visited Daddy once, Jack noticed the tires on my car were going bald, so he sent me to this tire place in town. Beings as I was from Colorado, I was a bit shy on going to a business I didn’t know for fear of being taken advantage of.  For one, I am a woman and…two, considered a “Yankee” to boot.

He tells me to tell them that “Jack B of Walnut Grove” sent me.  He says, “They know me there”. “They know I got a big mouth and if they don’t treat you right, the whole damn county’ll hear about it!” They gave me a great deal and I was in and out in no time.

Daddy said, that’s how he was. He had a big mouth and at times could be downright offensive, but one thing for sure, if he likes you, he likes you and you couldn’t ask for a more honest dealin’ man around. You always knew where you stood with him.

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Jack with my grandson Jack – It tickled him to when my little guy jumped on the Kodiak

After I moved there I found that to be true. People either loved him or hated him and that would all depend on what kind of person you were or how you’d dealt with him or one of his kin and/or friends.  That’s what happened to Uncle Tracy. You see Uncle Tracy  had taken advantage of daddy once a long time ago and basically absconded with over 360 acres of good timber land, leaving daddy with only 20 acres. Daddy and grandpa got like $5,000 for all of it, perhaps less.   Truth is, it was grandpa’s and daddy’s temper that interfered with their judgment that lost the land, none the less they all blamed Tracy for taking advantage of a known flaw in their personalities. Daddy never forgot that and of course Jack didn’t either. Loyal.

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“Our former dam and creek” that daddy always wanted to build a house nearby.

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Tracy cleared the trees and put in cattle but the land goes as far as you can see.

Jack, like us, started out land poor.  I don’t know how but there was quite a bit of land in the family and each started out with a chunk of it. I used to tell people we owned the town. My husband didn’t believe me until his first visit and he spotted a street named after us. Actually, there were several but that’s all we had. No money. Just land.

Now Jack was different. He may have looked like a hick, but he was sharp. He not only gained more land adding thousands of acres but he had hundreds of cattle, pigs, llamas and for a time raised corn to boot. So, he did right well for himself. He also knew how to handle money, and he knew how to save and multiply it. He put his boys through college and they too did well as engineers and accountants.

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Jack and his truck & tractor.

Daddy liked him because he said, he wasn’t uppity, he’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, that was how he was. He did get in Dad’s face at times and was always bugging dad to get his affairs in order and take care of us kids, but daddy wouldn’t listen. Jack was trying to look out for us to no avail. I respected him for that.

That’s why, when he popped off spit firin’ mad at some politician or some injustice, callin’ them names ya hadn’t oughta repeat, ya let him go because it was “his way”. One thing for sure, there was never a doubt in your mind about what he thought. There were times you’d cringe at the stuff that came out of his mouth. The more I was around him, the more I could see right through his prattle as he’d spew.  I was to discover that it was just talk. There was a heart of gold in there. Half the time I think he was just tryin’ to get folks riled and he did it well. He didn’t mince words and he could get ya to thinkin’.

One day, I’m at work and one of my coworkers tells me he’s dead, killed in a wreck or maybe daddy called and told me, I don’t remember. For sure it was my coworker that told me how. Some big trucker fell asleep or was drunk and went over to the other side. Her husband was on his motorcycle and saw it. Saw Jack. Jack had been decapitated. Killed on the spot. He died in 2007 at the age of 73. His obit states:

“Mr. — was retired from the U.S. Air Force and the United States Department of Agriculture. He entered the military at the age of 17. He served in the U.S. Armed Forces as a Ranger when they occupied Germany after World War II. He also served in the Korean War and saw combat duty during the Vietnam War. At present, Mr. — was a cattle farmer.” 

Daddy missed him most. A lot in fact. He was his best friend. But even he said, “sometimes Jack could be an ass hole” and I said “yeah… but he was our ass hole.”

What made me think of Jack is the elections comin’ up. Yeah, we got a couple of them.

The thing of it is,  there are people in life like Jack. They can be a bit hard to take sometime, because it’s all out there for the whole world to see, flawed and imperfect. Even so, I never heard him demean a woman like daddy would and did.  He was a good man. I never heard him say an unkind thing about someone based on color alone so much as work ethics and it was a sorry thing if they were one and the same, regardless. He didn’t pick and choose. You work hard, you get treated fairly. Period.

Daddy said that sometimes he was harder on his boys. I believe it. My boys got to work the farm once one summer and one liked him, the other didn’t so much. He treated them as his own. My sweet nerd was not at all the out door type, so he didn’t quite toe the line and farming is hard. Manual labor was not up his alley but it was good for him. He learned and never held it against Jack. For all his abrasive ways, when the chips were down, Jack was a good fair person and could always be counted on to give you the shirt off his back to help you.

Despite daddy’s ill treatment of us kids, I took care of him when he was sick and Jack liked that. He liked me and yes, I liked him too. I wish he could have been around when daddy passed away,  but he’d been gone nearly four years by then. It would have been nice to get his advice on a few things.

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“Tell them Jack sent you!”

 

 

 

Partiality and Color

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.

Penguins

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.

As Maya Angelou’s mother always told her, “each person was expected to “paddle his own canoe, stand on his own feet, put his shoulder to the wheel, and work like hell’ “.

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