Woman, Uncensored: Old Country Buffet calls police on breastfeeding mother

Woman, Uncensored: Old Country Buffet calls police on breastfeeding mother

Shameless sellout

Well, I have been meaning to write more. Is it writing or typing? Or blogging? Or what?

But the thing that lures me to the blog today is simply this.

A while back I found a great place to buy mailing labels for less than half the cost of a box store. The pile I bought lasted a long time but now I need to get some more for my ebay sales.

Lo and behold, today I got an offer from my label supplier by email: Mention them in a blog and get a discount. Okie Doke!

I already turned my bro, the miser millionaire onto them. He loves them and that is a huge testament!

So here they are, peeps. Trumpet fanfare:

Online Labels

Palin Wailin

Caught some of Palin spouting her bilge this morning. As much as I could stand. Ok, more than I could stand.

Apparently, after abruptly resigning as governor of Alaska, under scrutiny, Ms Sarah is now launching her campaign for President. I guess that is what is up. I would ask her, but clearly she has no idea what she is doing.

Her entire spiel consisted of complaining and criticizing. Poorly timed inflections, poorly stated "facts" fraught with verbal blunders - probably because she really has a poor grasp of the stuff of which she speaks. I wonder, shudderingly, if Palin were to become our fearless leader, would she have a plan? For her only platform seems to be one of "liberal" bashing.

At times, Palin, usually poised and all cutely displayed, morphed into an ugly caricature as she wound into her sarcastic and biting moments. It was frightening, actually. The image that came to mind was that of the wicked witch of the west (Apologies, Erin). The effect was haunting and surreal.

Palin's speach was heavy on fear. Fear of those nasty liberals, fear of our leaders, and most of all, fear of "Big Government". Oooohhhh...... I think I would be afraid, be very afraid of continuing to be owned and ruled by "Big Corporation". Think about it. What is our government designed and intended to be? That's right. Of the people, by the people and for the people. And what are Corporations designed to be? Yep. (take) from the people, (give) to the wealthy, (for) only themselves.

It really frightens me to see the wingnuts trying to stir up revolution. The enormous disparity in our society which allows "left" persuasion dissidents to be imprisoned while the "right" persuasion wingnuts are loudly calling for revolution, using public office and public funds to organize resistance and dissention is alarming.

Most frightening of all is to think that we could actually have another leader who is a good rabble rouser, but actually not too bright, not even wise enough to realize that working with the system is the thing to do. That we could actually face Sarah Palin, the veritable "Miss Priggy" of this muppet show of the Righteous Right as the President of the United States.

Learning to Listen

When, oh, when will I learn to listen?

Am I learning? At all?

Lately I have had growing feelings of discomfort toward my bro. He is "rich and Republican". Of course, he is much more than just that and I love him. But lately I have felt the huge rift and been put off by it.

And yet, this morning when I noticed he was online and I decided to Skype him, I just jumped right in there - tho it did require overriding some very strong "don't go there" signals.

Perhaps the ensuing crash and burn was inevitable. Perhaps it was the old moth attraction to a flame phenomenon. At any rate, things sure got ugly.

Lesson #1: Listen to your inner voice.

Sigh.

Bro's first question was had I given the money for my daughter's scholarship to her or had I kept it. "Yes, I course, I kept it", said I, "and I am headin out now to shop - need anything?" I asked.

Ok, sarcasm - not the best response. Nor was my next choice - honesty. I explained that MS OM has had a prob with her bank card due to a fraudulent charge and had to cancel card then ran into a mess getting a new one but that I had just mailed same by express mail yesterday and that when it arrives I will put the dough in her account. Seems reasonable, eh? Maybe I should have left out the part about the $30.00 fee on this end and alleged $20.00 fee on that end which the banks charge for international wiring. It seems that somehow Bro decided that since my daughter is getting a scholarship from him (and his wife), that when I "waste" money paying bank fees, it is his money. I tried to explain that I had not wasted any of "his" money, that I give my daughter all of the money he sends her (and plenty of my own to boot) and that I would not take or spend any of her scholarship.

We have a long standing battle going about money. I told him about 20 years ago that I would never ask him for a penny. And I have not. It is such a huge issue to him - I just wanted him to know our relationship is not based on me getting his money. But now that my daughter has applied for and received that scholarship, on her own, I might add, it seems I am again vulnerable to scrutiny and condemnation.

Things sure got ugly there. My bro did try to change the subject by asking how my DH is doing. More specifically, how is he doing with his injury. About the same, really. He is on two heavy duty pain meds, completely unable to walk, unwilling to travel, and still finding joy in music and cyberspace and puttering.

Most peeps do not understand the situation. It is a terrible and devastating injury, crushed pelvis, crushed nerves, declared inoperable by the neurologists because of the mangled condition. Paralysis, pain, and for some reason it has worsened alarmingly over the last several years.

Well, DH was clever enough to throw "this is why we need health care reform" into the conversation. I should have run screaming then. But no, on we went, down the spiraling vibes into, yes, HELL>

Well, when we got to the part where my bro was waxing profound on the "fact" that the entire problem is due to frivolous lawsuits I could hardly stay in the room. In fact I left them to it for a bit, returning to say that frivolous lawsuits are not THE problem, that it is more complicated than that. Bro's reply was that if I said that again he was going to hang up.

Lesson number 2: Listen to what is behind the words.

I think that was a huge red flag that he was feeling really vulnerable and threatened - but I only saw red.

"Goodbye", I said. And so did he. We hung up.

Well, now I feel like crap. Yeah, he is kinda a redneck. But I do love him.

And what is worse is this sinking feeling that if we cannot even have a civil conversation about this, then how the heck is the country gonna come together.

I am tired of being told that I am brainwashed. And yet, don't I feel that "they" are?

We need to get to "We".

Perhaps it is hard for my bro to relax and enjoy his $2000 per week Hawaiian rental while discussing the fact that we cannot afford the next neurosurgical consultation. ( Not that I hold great hope there. I trust more in meditation and visualization at this point) And what was that, a little jab at my bro, there? Some judgements? eh?

So what started the nightmare? All this over exorbitant bank fees? What really happened this morning? I dont know. I wish I could fit under the bed.........

I want to help bring folks together. I see I've got a lot of homework to do..... Tell me how and I will........listen.

Walkin with my baby.

I just got home from a walk with Kevin. We only went a few blocks. I am glad we turned back when we did because even though it seemed easy enough while we were out, now that we are home, I can feel the aerobic impact. I know, that means I must be in pathetic condition - but hey, I did, in fact, just take a stroll.
Another reason I am glad we turned back is that even though it is 49 degrees out, Kevin started to get cold. When he gets cold, he hurts more - sometimes with traumatic consequences. Writing this, it seems I am portraying Kevin as fragile - and in a way, he is. But more, he is incredibly resilient. I looked at his profile a couple of times walking and felt really sad, a bit sorry for myself as well as him. I kept shaking it off so we could just have a good time.
Now we are home and Kevin is downstairs playing sax and I am writing this and crying. You see, the reason it was more of a workout than I had expected and the reason Kevin got cold so fast is that this was our maiden voyage out on the streets with Kevin in a wheelchair.
I have been begging Kevin for a year or more to let us get a wheelchair so we could take walks together. He kept saying he was not ready for that and now I understand why. It is a psychic shock. For a couple of years we strolled with Kevin riding his bike very slowly alongside me. He was pretty pro at it. We also rode together and those were our walks. Afterward, Kevin would go conquer a hill or two. But lately, not only is he unable to walk, he is unable to ride a bike! We never saw this coming.
Kevin's injury occured when he was 18, 37 years ago. It is amazing what that man has accomplished since then. He has ridden up many a mountain. he even hiked up some. He built a home and remodeled two more. He was an expert and highly acclaimed painter and cabinet finisher for 26 years.
He also raised our daughter and his two stepchildren with love and kindness - and with full attention. He studied to become a psychologist only to discover after years of school and training that it was not for him. He plays guitar, bass, flute, alto and tenor and bari sax. He is the unofficial leader of our jazz band. He is my lover, my husband and my best friend.
When Kevin was in school, not studying to be a psychologist, but to be a teacher on a later round of inspiration, he wrote so beautifully that his teacher saved his work as an example and used it as a demo for later classes. When our daughter Erin took the class she recognized her dad's style while the professor was reading.
He does have a remarkable style. I noticed that before we really knew each other. I pointed him out to a friend and said "See that guy right there? He would make a great husband" She said I should go for it. I said "No, he is not my type, but I can just tell he would be a wonderful husband for someone".
Well, at first we were acquaintances, then friends, then really close friends, then lovers and in the first early love, yes he was a wonderful husband. But when the magic lost its luster, a few rough spots appeared. And yet, 22 years later, we have both grown and so has our love - now, not only is Kevin a wonderful husband for a lucky someone, yours truly, he is also the nicest man I have ever known.
That is partly why my heart broke today, walkin with my baby. Stealing glances at his profile, unnaturally thin because of the meds he is on and the strain he has been under, prematurely totally grey, extra wrinkled because of pain and from years of sun abuse as a painter, a biker, a cycler.... So glancing at this man in a wheelchair, grey and wrinkled, I saw a paradox. My 55 year old husband with the heart of an eagle. With the soul of Spartacus. The Wisdom of Ram Das. The flip side, did I see? yes a glimpse - of an frail, withered and fragile person. I saw our lives heading too scarily toward that edge. That jumping off place. Kevin as described above and myself in desperate need of exercise and joy. I also saw us out laughing and seeing our world, picking up our crosses and dancing with them. It was a roller coaster of emotions and sensations, that walk.
We dont honestly know if Kevin will ever walk again. We both think he will. That this could be some injury of his paralyzed foot and not simply further damage to his nerves. And it is possible that it is simply taking a loooong time to heal some tiny unseen fracture because of the paralysis. Now it has been about 6 months on crutches. Yesterday was a very bad day. Today is mo bettah.
Yeah, I do cry. Kevin cries sometimes too. Once he burst out with "I don't want to be in-valid!" But we dont let each other see much of that side. Brave and strong. Hang on, and here we go.

Walk a mile.....

My brother, the millionaire Republican forwarded an email to me which loudly proclaimed disdain over the pending health care reform. "Any congressman who votes for the public option should be required to have the same health care they are forcing on us."

This seems like an inconsiderate diatribe to forward to me, his sister, since he is well aware of my situation. Or is he? Can anyone be aware of anothers plight without actually experiencing the same?

My response to my bro? "Better yet, any congressman who does not vote for the public option should be required to have the same health care I now enjoy. Oh, wait, I dont have any."

Yes, I said my brother, the millionaire because I want to be clear that I understand his position - well, as much as anyone could who is a recovered welfare mom, married to a disabled man. After all, it works both ways. I am sure I do not understand really because I have never been burdened with millions of dollars to protect from such as myself.

So yes, I understand, up to a point, why my brother and others in that situation feel as they do. But what eludes me is why do working class and poor folks fear and loathe health care reform? I guess because they are told they should by those they adulate - the wealthy. It seems like a puppy coming when summoned, tho he knows he is to be whipped. Hello! People! The statistics are clear!

Statistics, you ask? Yes, those. We spend far more per capita than other nations on health care and we have far more deaths which could have been prevented by proper care. What does that mean? It simply means that someone is gettin awfully dang rich while many are dying. And caring about that, my friends is patriotic.

All this hype about how unpatriotic it is to like our president, to support his efforts, to care about all of our people, to demand justice, yes, for all, what is that? That is an amazing ploy to scare people out of BEING patriotic - and supporting our president, his efforts, caring about all of our people and demanding justice - yes, for all. Amazing because it is so ballsy. And inconceivably successful. Look around at all the people afraid to be proud Americans. Who think being ashamed of where we are now - standing at the threshold of change - is proof of their loyalty.

Look at the congress members taking part in rallies against our government on the Capitol steps. And for what? To stop health care reform. To maintain the status quo.

And what is that, pray tell? The current status is a spiraling void into which more Americans fall every day. A void in which health insurance costs an ever higher percentage of our wages, less of us have wages, medical care is ever more costly and out of reach, medicines are 5 or 10 times the price in other countries, sometimes even more - up to forty times more.

And where is all this leading? Well, first of all, this is simply genocide. Keeping only the wealthy alive and well and virtually and literally killing off the poor. But ah, our wealthy barons have gone too far. They are now killing off the working class. Who then, I ask - who will be the drones in our culture? Do the rich think that they can continue to exploit third world countries and that they no longer need to care for the workers in our own nation? Even as this unfolds, we are becoming a third world nation measured by our health care standards..... while many of those same nations are increasingly surpassing us in this area.

As we struggle for health care reform, an effort to correct what is arguably the greatest travesty in our nation, the opposition screams ever louder. What are they afraid of? Do they not actually see the situation we are in now? The huge leap into an unsustainable void that we have made in the last decade?

I think not. For the Republicans have finally come up with a health care reform bill of their own. One with no measure to correct the current situation involving pre-existing conditions. Yes, those nasty little things. You know - the reason most of us need health care. So let me ask you, those of you who support the current state of affairs or the "Republican option", what are those of us with pre-existing conditions to do? This is cleary, simple genocide. Killing off the weak and injured.....first...... Am I wrong? Explain that to me.

The other night I dreamed an entire book or movie plot. I woke up and realized it and thought - wow, go start writing that down. But life as I have imagined it beckoned.
It was not like any plot I would consciously contrive. It was such a patent plot that it seemed quite sellable - not that I am an expert in that area.
I seem to be expert at creating a life so full of trumped up obligations that I can never suffer the agony of defeat since I can not ever begin to create. What is that? Ah, but what sort of declamation am I creating here and now?
So, perhaps I did not find that particular movie worthy of further attention. Perhaps it was merely an exercise in creating. A riff.
Wouldnt it be great if we had little secretaries to transcribe all the stuff running in our minds? Well, maybe not all of it. Heh. I guess if I just make a habit of writing some stuff down, it could grow....
I hear my daughter is on a new writing jag.
When I was young, my dad, my foster dad, that is, always urged me to write. He said I had a certain something far greater than his own, a gift, say, and that I darent not waste it. But ahh, thus far, I did. Now I see my daughter and her gift. Well, truly, all my children have such talent. But this particular daughter wields the pen mightily, fearlessly and deftly. I do not push. No, no. I have never pushed. I hope. And yet is not pushing just as bad as too much pushing? Ah, who will know these answers in time?
In time. That is when we will know them, eh?
Well, the point is, she is writing and that is wonderful.
I think living our own lives fully, honestly, bravely, sensitively, sensibly, with senseless abandon (a light spice of senseless abandon) is the best way we can help our children. And example is the greatest guide. And yet I dont quite mean guide for I do not wish to guide my children. I wish to set them free to explore, to live, to wonder, to love, to create, and most of all to glory in simply being.
I am truly rich. It is so easy to look at one's life and regret, to measure and compare, to wallow in what if's. And yet truly, my life is so rich, so full, for I have three wonderful children, all of whom are kind in their souls. All of whom are bright and clever and sharp, and also deep and thoughtful. I have a life partner who is kind and clever and brave and strong and talented and generous and loving. Who sparks the essence of me. Who many look up to and who for some reason appeared in my life one day, promised to stay and then did.
I have my own fine self. One who has endured life's usual trials and emerges now, still confident, still alive, still learning and sharing and growing wise.
Now my silver trophy wisps fly about arrogantly, daily proclaiming my arrival in cronehood. A glance in the mirror reminds me to live today. For it is all we have.
Life brings us strange gifts and all too often we look past them, wondering where the heck the good stuff is. Like the gift of my tenant Kelly. She wants to make a baby quilt with me. yes, I say, yes, lets do that. All the while hankering for that elusive time to myself. That time to myself I wander about in constantly, shunning all others. Like the gift of my friend Donna. She comes around, calls, emails, suffers my rebuffs, my selfishness. She wants to sew with me too. dont I profess to love sewing? And here is the dream of a lifetime, my own sewing clache. Clache? Buddies? Like the gift of that husband I mentioned, my dear friend Kevin. Who supports me in anything I desire, anything I strive for, long for, reach for, be that art, crafts, a home, solitude, slovenliness, activity, gluttony, abstinence. He says yes, yes, yes, Rita, I trust you to make good decisions for yourself.
Ahhhhhhhh.....