The dreams of my death are...

Pretty darned cool!

The other day, I was enjoying the random nonsense themes that my brain was generating (if you stop and reflect instead of letting it rule the roost, it's very much like having Lewis Carroll writing you a personalized fantasy all day long). As the monkey mind was spinning around, one of the thoughts that passed through was of serious illness and I re-assessed the idea of death. Most of my prior contemplations about death focused on anger, disappointment, or loss. This time, I was okay with it all. Okay as in I feel like I've gotten somewhere with this experience of life, and if it were my time, I'd be okay with it.

Perhaps that contemplation led me to this morning's multi-media dream event about my own death, but it was pretty darned cool.

As evidence for this being a sleeping dream, allow me to share with you that the circumstances and place of my demise were that I was about to make my first appearance as the Wicked Witch in a Broadway touring production of "Wicked," and would have been the first male cast in that role. I was in costume, and working with the production manager who had herself played the role of the witch, and she was showing me how easy it was going to be to fold myself in half and have only my flagellating arms and legs poking out of the hole in the stage that would facilitate the sequence where I was "dissolving" after having been doused with water. There was lots of gauze, and lots of activity (and the show was going on right then), and I went back around the curtain to prepare for my entrance. Just then, I gently fell to the floor, in a pool of muslin, heavy velvet and gauze and realized I was having a heart attack.

The dream continued with me calling on people who were yet alive, and with whom I had a strong emotional connection. My visitations with them were joyous; I was filled with love for them and for our relationship together. Occasionally, one of these people was able to perceive me as if nothing had changed, and we had conversational interaction.

Guy and I had some time together, going through a grocery store as he loaded his basket with items needed at home, and the two of us chatting about psychology, human behavior and airplanes, just as always. It was immensely rewarding.

Went to a BMW 7 launch party last night

Reception. Open bar, sushi buffet, in the grand ballroom of the Zaza, with two brand new BMW 7s. The corporate product manager for 6/7 was there (we chatted her up for at least a half hour) plus the regional management for BMW corporate, a bunch of contract product specialists (whom my friend Jeffrey terrified all) and about 150 would bes and wanna bes milling about with about 20 be-s

A diminutive latin boy (he's 40 actually) named Carlos, very handsome, awesome body, about 5'4" who's in the real estate business was at the BMW reception last night. Thinks he's straight, but was glommed onto Jeffrey like a barnacle.

Carlos was talking to "his" BMW salesman from Advantage downtown, saying he'd had six BMWs in the last eight years. the salesman said "six? really?" Had he bought six from the same guy, the guy would have known Carlos' birth weight, along with the details of the cars.

Carlos was with a VERY handsome South American man name of Carlo who wasn't very comfortable and didn't speak very well English.

Carlo ditched Carlos, and Carlos started glomming in more firmly. By that time, we were at the bar and Jeffrey had struck up a conversation with McCain Herring (as in McCain and JoAnn Herring). We pawned Carlos off on JoAnn Herring's Granddaughter in law who took him home in her BMW Alpina B7 - the only example in the Houston area.

On the way out the door, I spoke to one of the marketing reps, and told her about the abysmal local level dealer internet communication and made some specific suggestions - which she said she was going to share with the regional and national BMW folks who make things happen. Heh!

The last Monday of February

More moving on the horizon - this is a great space here, but the noise from the neighbor downstairs and the car wash next door is disturbing. Getting out of storage, and into a more business like environment will be great.

Brian last night reminded me of the Hyundai Genesis Coupe, which I had seen and been impressed by at the Houston Auto Show and Gift Exchange. It's CHEAP. It's GORGEOUS. Wow.

Last week, I pulled a box of Marvin the Martian stuff out from my desk and unpacked it all. It just doesn't have the interest for me that it used to. Maybe it's time for it all to head yonder into the sunset.

the day after Single Awareness Day

It's just astonishing how something totally made up can drive people to choose financial hardship, enormous and impossible expectations, or even bizarre, temporary assignations.

Valentine's Day was made up by Geoffrey Chaucer, who was a poet, and therefore had an axe to grind and sell. It lay mostly fallow until the mid 1800's, when it was resurrected by a writer (needing something to write about) and then a Massachusetts woman who created a niche for herself with mass produced Valentine's Day cards. Her father owned a large printing company, thus she was able to create this new product line and distribute it.

For a profit.

Only since the end of World War II has the United States lept off into the deep end of the commercial swimming pool, by lavishing ever more expensive trinkets on one's "love". The candy business sells over $345 Millions in chocolate. The event is good for an additional $250 Millions in hotel rooms. A billion cards, averaging $3.50 each. 110 Million roses at $40/dozen. The average consumer spends $77.43 for their Valentine.

For many, it is one of the only occasions during the year that their affection and appreciation is expressed for their loved one.

Well, I don't feel left out, disabused, a lesser being because I have not lavished effusive trinkets upon a special someone.

But, I do feel $77.43 better off.

Where does the time go?

Twenty-nine days of January gone by already. Did I do anything with it? I think so. I hope so.

I want chocolate for reasons I cannot name. Should I or shouldn't I?

Should I, as it turns out.

When does the question get answered?

The one that goes "What do I want to be when I grow up?"

Just a spoon full of sugar...

My interest in blogging has been flagging for some time.

Is that because I've read elsewhere that blogging is passe? Most bloggers either use their sites for lots of posts related to their primary business (journalism) or their primary axe to grind (obvious) or politics. Many of the blog sites I used to frequent a few years ago are now dormant, and most of the personal blog sites are deader than a door nail.

So, we're back from the inauguration. It was AWESOME. The best part of the trip (aside from the amazing Westin Hotel "Heavenly Beds") was how people interacted everywhere we went. No grumbling, complaining, trying to get ahead in line, trying to gain an advantage. Open, friendly, excited, helpful - I could get used to living in that world all the time.

It's time for some sleep. And a clearance sale. More of that is coming my way - getting rid of more boxes of stuff I won't/don't use and don't want anymore.

Where's the motivation?

I've hung up some pictures, but what is slowing me down is the mass of boxes and assorted crap that needs to be gone through, and about half either thrown away or photographed to sell on eBay and Amazon.

Blarg. No fun.

Slow starts, beautiful Fridays

I guess I can't be TOO self-critical; I did get all the stuff going to the church rummage sale, the resale shop and the office for the big eBay sell-off loaded into the car.

Why was it again that I didn't buy a truck? Lord.

I'm reading the most amazing book any gay man will ever take up - "Velvet Rage," which seems to be transformational for me, but the transformation is yet to be fully revealed.

If you're a gay man, or worried that you may be, you should read this book at once. Then, read it again.

Also, you MUST see "Revolutionary Road" unless you require your movies to be mindless, flashy distractions. It's an excellent piece, complex, nuanced, beautifully produced and filmed and splendidly acted.

I'm hoping there's a hammer at the office, since there isn't one here and my three are all locked up in my storage unit.

Did I mention that I found my fabulous little video camera yesterday? No? Sorry, it was in a box at the office, just as I suspected.

Tonight is a movie night at the church. Sunday is the big come to meeting day. I'll be away from the house most of the weekend, which is agreeable, I guess.

I guess I'd best get showered and join the stuff in the car for the trip into town.

Re-arranged, now to unpack and unload

What a whiner I was this afternoon. I guess since I was paying for the privilege, it's acceptable. I can't find my Marvin the Martian camera bag that contains my cute little video camera. I wonder where in the heck I have left it.

Probably in a box at the office. Along with three boxes of VHS (which are all for Half-Price books on Friday,) six boxes of books (which have to be vetted through Amazon first,) 20 boxes of client files (which need a home in the unused front room) and ten boxes of miscellaneous file folders, laminating supplies, etc.

Just had a terrific response from the guy who did my Fabulair bag samples a year ago - ooooh, baby! Anyone want to buy a Fabulair bag? I'm getting 25 black and 25 white. Let me know. I can post a picture thereof, if it's something you'd like to see.

WHERE is my camera bag?

I have a 9 am doctor's appointment, and it's a 25 mile drive there. Officially - yuck.

But, it will have me at the office early. I have my work cut out for me.

the failure to shop around

The other day, I took my car back to CarMax for some repairs under the service agreement. Seems they don't just take your car in, you have to make an appointment, and tell them what they're going to be doing, and then bring it BACK. You have to go in because they don't answer the phone in the service department. Ever.

Well, I made an appointment to have these things done, and the service writer tells me that since I've nearly got 60,000 miles on the car, I need to schedule the 60,000 service for $440. What do I know? I remember when cars had to have brakes every 15,000 miles and their chassis fittings lubricated every 3,000 miles, and fell apart completely around 75,000 miles.

The morning of, I had a conflict. The snow fell, Yellowstone blew up, people voted Republican, SOMETHING. I started calling the CarMax folks at about 7:30 a.m. to tell them "I must reschedule."

But, CarMax's service department doesn't answer their phone, remember? I never got through to anyone. Left several messages. No calls returned.

Weeks pass.

I still need the work done, but I've had the oil changed and the cabin filter replaced (which involved a great deal of jerking, prying, wedging and swearing, but was finally done.) The total cost for these two services was less than $80 (plus the skinned cuticles and knuckles.)

Yesterday, I had decided that trying to communicate with CarMax and getting the car TO CarMax to re-make the appointment and then take it back FOR the appointment was too much trouble, and I'd just take the car to reliable Poutous Auto Repair on Kelvin.

I ask the nice lady at the desk what the cost is for the 60,000 mile service. She asks one of the owners. He says "there is no such thing." Uh, what? The CarMax guy was making it sound like it was a crucial thing - successful economic stimulus depended on my having this done RIGHT AWAY. Mike Poutous tells me "you probably need an oil change, a cabin filter replacement and a bunch of stuff checked. We'll check it for you, and then call you and tell you what needs to be dne, but I'm not going to tell you I'm going to charge you four or five hundred dollars to do the 60,000 mile service when it's an oil change and looking around under the hood."

I came back to the office, and looked at my owner's manual. At the 60,000 mile interval, GM tells me to:

* Change the oil
* Change the engine air filter
* Change the cabin air filter
* Rotate the tires

All of which have already been done, except for the "poke around under the hood."

By the by, my "dealer," David Taylor Cadillac, would like to collect $498.25 for this "service," PLUS PARTS and state sales tax. They'll install a PCV valve for me, and a fuel filter. Mind, the PCV valve and fuel filter would be EXTRA (and costs a buck sixty-nine and the fuel filter is seven bucks at AutoZone.) The fuel system "flush" involves putting a can of Wynn's fuel system flush in the gas tank.

Caveat Emptor. Ya better shop around.

The next to the last evening of 2008

I won't miss 2008 a bit, no thank you. Not that good things didn't begin to develop, and better, newer ways of being began to manifest. But, for those things to manifest, a great deal of lurching, gut-wrenching, free-falling uncertainty and drama was required and I didn't favor that very much, thank you.

The homework assignment before me is to write out in detail what I want if there were no considerations or obstacles. A good exercise for anyone, especially facing down the barrels of a new year.

I am seeing clearly for the first time just how much drama and obstacle most people put in front of themselves. They're tripping over it (I've been tripping over it) and not even aware that it's there, just going forward expecting that that is how things are supposed to be.

What if we have an opportunity with this Rick Warren controversy?

First let me preface my diary by stating that I'm a Religious Scientist (not a Scientologist, click here for a wikipedia article.) I believe that everything we experience in life is coming from our own belief of the world.

That is a HARD thing to have to balance with something as initially disturbing as Rick Warren's selection to give the invocation at Obama's inauguration.

Unlike those that support HRC and the Log Cabin Republicans, I believe that everyone in the GLBT community deserves full human rights NOW. Unlike many, I believe that the anti-GLBT dialogue from those like Rick Warren contributes to the huge spike in anti-GLBT violence which was beautifully summarized by PICO over on Daily Kos today. How our leaders speak sets the tone by which people act and react.

When I saw Rick Warren was Obama's choice, I felt betrayed. However, these last few days, I've been wrestling with my own tendency to view myself as a victim of circumstances - even those circumstances that are fully within my control.

Victim/not victim. What is the difference? In the abstract, that's not difficult to understand.

In the moment of seeing what is clearly an abandonment, or a turning away after WE helped him get elected it's not as easy.

I agree with the folks who are complaining that in saying that he is for working together in spite of differences and what's gone in the past, Obama is saying that it we (the GLBT community) that has to give up being right and come across the aisle to shake hands and accept Rick Warren.

What if that's what Obama has in mind for us?

The other night, someone commenting on a GLBT themed diary on Daily Kos made the joke that without us, straight people are destined to have bad clothing, hair and drink cheap wine from a box.

Okay, you grinned, you know you did.

Even when we in the GLBT community are feeling most abused and diminished, we know that deep down we're very special people. What if Obama is, knowingly or unknowingly, calling for us to step forward and BE special?

Again, I've been wrestling with my own thinking and personality in the last week, and at that micro level (which is quite macro for me, thanks, but in the scheme of things..) I've been seeing where being right about being victimized has kept me back. Engaged in whipping up big drama has kept me back.

We are righteously whipping up big drama over Rick Warren's selection.

Is that what will best serve us as a people?

One thought - Rick Warren is giving the invocation. Dr. Joseph Lowery is giving the benediction. Rick Warren starts, but Dr. Lowery finishes.

Is that not a metaphor for what is happening here? We're starting the ceremony with self-righteousness, focusing on those that appear different so as to gain advantage, and selfish greed - and we're ending up with inclusion and acceptance and working together regardless of the apparent differences.

Moving from one to the opposite way of handling things. If we move to inclusion and acceptance and working together, we're going to HAVE to include and accept those that have not and do not accept us.

What if we, the GLBT community have this glorious opportunity to LEAD?

The website DailyOm today posted a spot-on comment about exactly this. They couldn't have known that we'd be wrestling with Rick Warren today. It's serendipity, if you believe in that, or it's the word of Spirit right at the moment it's needed, if you believe in that.

I'm going to give you the opening paragraph, but because of copyright and the site's TOS, you'll have to click through to read it all.

I don't know how exactly we're going to lead from this, but how about we start to look for ways to do so that aren't reaching back to the last 28 years and trying to be the powers that be that dictate terms to the other side? How about if we in the GLBT community follow the words of our newly elected leader, which are so poignant and so needed right now, and we accept, love, and work with everyone?

What if GLBT people were viewed as not only the ones with all the style, wit, flair and vibrance, but we also were the ones that gave the world peace and hope?

If we can create what we have already done, marginalized and closeted, we can do this. If we can create lasting community service organizations to help ourselves when the straight community abandoned us in righteous judgment over AIDS, we can do this.

It's a far more empowering mission than figuring out how to gain revenge for betrayal.

December 19, 2008
The Great Transformer
Loving What You Hate

"Hatred can be irrational, and it has a greater impact on the individual who hates than the person or object being hated. Yet overcoming hatred is difficult because hatred reinforces itself and causes greater enmity to come into being. The most powerful tool one can use to combat hatred is love. Deciding to love what you hate, whether this is a person, situation, or a part of yourself, can create a profound change in your feelings and your experience. There is little room for anger, dislike, bitterness, or resentment when you are busy loving what you hate. The practice of loving what you hate can transform and shift your emotions from hatred to love, because there is no room for hatred in a space occupied by love."

Maybe it's time to take a class

If you're like most people, you probably have a smart phone. Blackberry, Treo, something that accesses the internet, has a full keyboard, does it all.

Have you ever marveled at one of these little hand held devices and remembered what it was like fifteen years ago? How much like Star Trek are these little things?

They're going to get a whole lot more complex, and a whole lot faster than you may think. In another four years, what we'll be buying will seem far more like a Star Trek tricorder than what we're using now. You have seen the billboards for "3G wireless networks" - welcome to 4G.

Now, if you go to that linked article about 4G and can read it and understand it, you're probably a physicist or something. I looked at it a few times and boiled it down to this:

* None of the phones we're using now will work at all in about three years
* What we're just now starting to get used to - streaming video on our handheld, slow and clunky internet, navigation on our handhelds - is merely a baby step compared to the 4G devices that we'll see awfully soon
* The only thing that will hold a 4G device back is the screen size. There will be some 4G handheld devices that will have more computing power than the laptop I'm writing this on - and you can use it to stream movies, work at your desk, or in replacement of the stereo system and navigation system in your car through wireless Bluetooth-like technology and full sized monitors/keyboards.
* South Korea has already re-wired their wireless networks to 4G and is rolling out the products - this is not speculation, it is coming more certainly than the inaguration on January 20
* In another five years or so, your new car will have a video screen, and a power/cable plug for your 4G device, which will be the video/audio/satellite radio/navigation system/trip computer/telephone for your vehicle. If you rent a car, you'll have your normal and familiar functionality with you.
* No more laptop cases, no more lugging your eight pound device around. No more desktop computers. Monitors, keyboards and pointers (commonly called a mouse) with a power port will be the work stations of the very near future. This alone will massively reduce electrical consumption.
* You'll never have to miss your favorite TV program ever again!

Well, Lieutenant Uhura, get me Star Fleet on the comm!

What to do with this information? If you're challenged by your Blackberry NOW, take a class about them at HCC or something! The train is whistling to leave the station, and your competitors (who can handle this massive technology shift) will be aboard!

Hey, Conservatives -

The other day, Eric from Vancouver was touting his local MP (that's what the Canuckistanians call their Congresscritters) web page. He linked me to her website, and there occupying all of the up front real estate, was a story that told of the MP's informing the Border Security guys to watch for Americans coming across the border to protest in Vancouver at a Gay Pride event.

Seems in Canada it's a crime to incent hatred or discrimination toward other groups.

The few people in the US that I spoke to about this (outside the City and County of San Francisco, that is) thought that was "stupid."

Turns out there's a completely valid reason for this. From a diarist at Daily Kos:

The Psychological Harm of Anti-Gay Initiatives
by RfrancisR
Sun Nov 30, 2008 at 08:13:16 AM PST

Been feeling angry, fearful, sad, or depressed, lately? I have. I remember the joy I felt on election night, and how that joy came crashing down when I woke up the next morning to the reality of California's Prop 8 having passed. It blew me away. I had been talking to my sister in the weeks leading up to the vote of possibly moving out there with her so that me and my boyfriend of nearly nineteen years could get married. To straight people out there, imagine being with your boyfriend or girlfriend for nineteen years. Who has a boyfriend that long? Imagine never being able to call, by law, your boyfriend or girlfriend your spouse, and imagine that was the case because people who hated you spend millions to tell your neighbors every lie in the book about you.

Dr Gregory Herek, one of the foremost experts on the issue of sexual minorities, has posted a wonderful blog documenting the very real psychological harm of anti-gay ballot initiatives.

* RfrancisR's diary :: ::
*

Evidence has documented so called minority stress, the additional psychological stress that is caused by being an out-group in society. Now, Herek points us to research that proves that vicious anti-gay campaigns ran to help pass anti-gay measures do severe psychological harm to the GLBT community tantamount to PTSD. It's not merely the loss of a legal recognition of a marriage. It is brutal psychological warfare against gays and lesbians.

I can’t do justice to Dr. Russell’s book-length account here, especially her in-depth descriptions of the stories related by research participants. But one of her important findings was that a substantial segment of the sample reported many symptoms that are commonly associated with depression, anxiety disorders, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and they perceived that these symptoms were a direct result of having lived through the months of antigay campaigning.

Through Internet surveys, the researchers used standard mental health measures to assess the current well-being of more than 1500 lesbian, gay, and bisexual adults. For example, respondents were asked whether they had recently experienced various symptoms of depression, such as having difficulty sleeping or concentrating, feeling fearful or hopeless, and not being able to “get going.” They were also asked about the extent to which they were experiencing negative emotions, such as fear, irritability, hostility, and nervousness.

587 participants completed two versions of the questionnaires — one in the spring of 2006 and a second one about 6 months later, shortly after the November elections. Nearly one thousand others completed the post-election questionnaire, but not the pre-election survey.

The researchers sorted participants into two groups — those living in a state with an anti-marriage amendment on the 2006 November ballot and those in other states. Not surprisingly, compared to residents of other states, residents of the amendment-campaign states reported encountering a larger number of antigay messages in the mass media and in day-to-day conversations. Moreover, comparison of the November questionnaires with those administered six months earlier revealed that the number of encounters with negative messages had increased significantly in the amendment states but not in the other states.

When the researchers examined the mental health data, they found that residents of the states where an antigay campaign had just been waged reported higher levels of stress, more negative emotions, and more symptoms of depression than did respondents who lived elsewhere. Comparison of the pre-election and post-election questionnaires revealed that levels of psychological distress had increased significantly among residents of states with a marriage amendment on the ballot, but not among residents of other states.

In sum, the findings of Dr. Rostosky’s group support and extend those of Dr. Russell’s research team. By examining the experiences of sexual minority adults residing in different states, and by comparing scores on mental health measures before and after the statewide antigay campaigns, they provide good evidence that marriage amendment campaigns are harmful to the mental health of lesbians, gay men, and bisexuals.

BeyondHomophobia.com

I remember my civics class lessons on Brown v Board of Education. It was the top psychological research of the day that helped to make the case that segregation was a moral evil. The research, then, proved the psychological harm caused by segregation. Unequivocally, then separate could never be equal. I hope those challenging anti-gay laws, such as Prop 8 can use this new research effectively to help convince the courts of the harm such laws and initiatives do to good people.

For a really good time this December 1st, read the comments.

four years to look forward to

So, I've mostly tolerated the rantings of the "conservatives" that I know - probably has lead to the depression and anxiety that has ripped my life apart. I have tried to engage in rational discussion, third party fact checking, and so on, but the "conservatives" that I know, even the mostly sane ones, are so caught up in the daily download of conservative pornography from the RNC (as has only recently been documented here and on other non-MSM sites.)

HOW could so many different people take umbrage on the SAME day with the SAME idea using the SAME phrases?

Well, because it's all scripted, that's how.

After becoming de-homed back at the end of September, I drove out to San Francisco and stayed with a friend from college for a month. Living in San Francisco was quite an experience in freedom. People on the peninsula just don't judge each other at ALL. One is taken for how one behaves, not how one looks, where one lives and so on.

The late election eve experience for a homosexual in San Francisco was a staggering change. We, no - I - was singled out by the electorate and told EVERYONE IN THIS STATE MATTERS EXCEPT YOU.

An atmosphere I'd been quietly tolerating back in Texas (from the Indian Tejas - friendly. Fat chance.) for twenty-seven years. I could feel in the "air" that we were singled out from the herd. Not accepted. Not allowed. Wrong.

And, I was ANGRY.

Okay, I've been angry since 1980 when Jimmy Carter lost to Ronald Reagan, but NOW I WAS REALLY ANGRY. I came back to Texas (drive friendly!) to get my life back together and get the FRACK out of here.

That's when I came to realize the depth of the racism and elitism here. It's not elitism like what Obama was accused of, or the elitism that is denegrated in the press. Not a lot of arugula here in Houston.

It's the elitism that allows a 33 year old who doesn't have a pot to piss in and can't hold a job for more than three months, has never paid his child support, doesn't pay his taxes and has no education past high school to lord it over the blacks, the Mexicans, the poor, anyone who isn't WHITE. That's the key thing that I think we kossacks and progressives are not fully understanding. Race is the bottom of all of this.

I stopped tolerating race baiting the day after the election.

A lady friend of mine took me to dinner and was snarling about the black churches improperly proselytizing which brought Obama the election.

This was not new. This was a "friend" who, in front of ALL of my friends at a birthday party told me she was still surprised, given how intelligent I am, that I'd be a liberal.

For the last ten years, I'd have pointed out politely that there aren't enough black people in the country to push an election, and there are only a handful of cities where the black population can carry the day in a vote.

This time, I said "this is utterly inappropriate and racist and I won't tolerate it. If you'd like, I'll take you home right now and we can skip the opera."

She didn't like it, but she shut up.

I read every day how we Kossacks and progressives are expecting the Demos to roll over and play dead for the Republicans shouting in their unified meme. I expect it too.

But, if we accept this - as I accepted my friend's overt racism for YEARS, who's at fault? WE have the majority?

Why should we not prosecute war crimes and offenses against our domestic laws?

Why should we not prosecute the illegal politicization of our civil departments and agencies?

Why should we not bring about the IMMEDIATE dissolution of the unregulated trading structures that provided a place for a handful of thousands of hyper-wealthy to trade up our fuel, food and financial prices?

When the Demos start to roll over, why don't we say to them "I won't tolerate this, it's inappropriate. Would you like me to take you home now, or would you like to go to the opera?"

Final note, one of my best friends from high school reconnected with me on Facebook a few months back. He and I hadn't talked in 30 years. He could, if he chose, sit over there behind his computer and look at pictures, and think whatever thoughts bring him pleasure.

I for my own part don't reach out and smack old friends around on Facebook or elsewhere. I do post articles, notes, and such on MY profile that I find interesting. Hey, it's MY Facebook page! He posts all kinds of nasty crap and I don't go over there to his sandbox to see what cat turds he's burying in the sand.

But, when I post something - I get the nearly immediate little red pop-up "***** **** has posted a comment on your item."

Just guess how many times it's flattering or polite? C'mon, just guess.

Okay, fine.

Tonight, I posted a couple of things. One, a thought about how it is people think they can get their laundry clean with crudded up machines. One, a link to Paul Krugman's article about how to get the economy started again. And, one a quote from Kos today on how a party committed to government being incompetent is incapable of running a competent government.

Over there, in his sandbox (if I were truly snarky I'd use the term litter box here, but..) he decides to post "Office of the President Elect" HaHaHa find that in the Constitution."

A.) I'm tired of the dog whistles.
B.) I'm sick of being part of the progressive roll over and play dead movement
C.) I was friends with him THIRTY TWO YEARS ago. Like I need someone giving me crap.

Here's the progression of what came next:

Me: "Uh, you don't get to talk about anything not being in the Constitution, since Richard and George just made up eight years of shyte that wasn't EVER in the constitution. Sit back and take your medicine."

Him: "Others misdeeds are no excuse for your own"

Me: "I didn't create the title that you now object to. And, truly, after all of the shredding of the Constitution, international law, domestic law and just plain common sense that has been supported by .. um .. well, people I know, I just am not listening to any superficial complaining about someone adopting an "uppity" title for their office. Hey, ... guess what? He IS the president elect. And, he has an OFFICE! It's an office where he's conducting the business of being the president elect! There are even structures in place from prior to his being born to PAY FOR IT.

If you have a complaint, at least make it a good one. Repeating today's RNC talking points that were broadcast by Fox and the AM dial isn't information, nor is it discernment.

Oh, and hey - congrats on spreading today's latest slice on the racial dog whistle. Obama's an uppity nigra."

Now, you know he had some comeback, right?

I saw the little red flag and .. I didn't even want to go look. So, I didn't. I started this diary instead.

But, when I went back to Facebook to collect my quotes above, I saw his reply.

Him: "Whoa slap me down with a vengeance"

That's right, sucker.

Paraphrasing Sean Penn from "Milk"

On the Statue of Liberty, it says "Give me your poor, your hungry, your huddled masses yearning to be free." and in the Declaration of Independence, it says "All Men Are Created Equal." You can't rip that out of the Declaration of Independence and you can't take it off the base of the Statue of Liberty. That's what it is to be an American!

I say, ENOUGH. When they dog whistle, they must be called out. People are people. Everyone deserves a chance. No poor person brought our economy to its knees, and no person of color put us into Iraq, nor gave us a military budget equal to the gross national products of 3/4 of the world's nations. No illegal immigrant destroyed the watershed, or polluted the air, or outsourced all of our foundational employment to other, cheaper countries.

If the elected try to play roll over, I say - Let's take 'em straight home. We can find another date to the opera.

A milestone achieved

I don't post much on Daily Kos. I read it relentlessly - "it" being a collection of individual thoughts and posts, opinions with some facts thrown in. I've been a member for a couple of years, first so that I could post comments. I don't do that very often. I've posted only a few times. Had a few comments.

This morning, I read a recommended article from the LA Times about a guy who used to be a writer for the Wall Street Journal, and has been now homeless for three years. He lives in the back of his Toyota pick up. I wrote a post in response to that, and plunked it down.

Daily Kos gets tens of thousands of posts each day - called "Diaries." They are unedited. If someone violates the site's TOS (that's internetic for "Terms of Service) they get deleted and blocked, but people can say pretty much what they want as long as they're not suggesting violence toward someone.

I don't read all of these diaries.

Editors, who are I believe volunteers, review the tens of thousands of diaries, and advance them for everyone to see on the front page. In addition, a handful of regular diarists post straight to the front page all day. Each night, some ten to fifteen diaries are recommended for everyone to read. This feature is called "Open Thread and Diary Rescue." Some of these diaries are just emotional stories, some are well researched tomes, some are ill researched rants.

My diary today was recommended for everyone to read. I'm both honored and embarrassed.

Warm, Dry, Full

Cross posted from Daily Kos

Homelessness takes many, many shapes - and most homeless are not living under a bridge, but are living on a friend's sofa, or in a den or guest room.

Les Gapay writes of having lived from the back of his pickup in today's Pundit wrapup. Even that homelessness is mostly invisible, because he's not out begging for coins and sleeping in a doorway.

Homelessness means that you cannot any longer provide a home for yourself and your family. Being warm and dry and fed doesn't equate to being "homed." Having a home of your own gives you the ability to say how things will go, how clean it will be kept, how it will be managed, when it will be quiet and who will be coming over.

Homeless means that you're dependent on someone else's expectations, upon someone else's schedule and way of doing things. If you can't adjust ALL of your psyche to meet them all the way on their side of the equation, you are about to be homeless without the warm/dry/fed part.

Homeless also carries with it an internal stigma. That you couldn't keep it up - you couldn't carry the day and manage it. That you may never be able to do it again.

Homelessness also means forcible separation from one's "stuff." Mine, for instance, is in two different places, 40 miles apart. Not only do I not have any place for it to go, elements of it have been planing away for months - things that once meant a great deal to me are too difficult to keep moving or are broken or just taken. My surround sound system now lives elsewhere forever. My furniture is scattering quickly as friends mention they've always liked this piece or that piece and could they have it? Buy it?

Never does it bring a fraction of what it would cost to replace. My future home, if there should be one, could now be contained in a one bedroom apartment, maybe even a studio. Even knowing that, there is no sense of accomplishment, only an effort to battle a sense of loss.

The only relief homelessness provides is freedom from the crushing slavery to paying housing, utilities, cleaning products, everything that you once did to make and keep your place as your own. My very high paying consulting career ended weeks after 9/11, but the hand writing was on the wall when the incoming Bush administration simply canceled all of the social/education/community development funds that our division was working with. Since then, I've been trying to find a place for myself, and maintaining a space for myself has been a pitched battle each month. Finally, when Hurricane Ike made its appearance, my entire weakened self-employment network came to an end. Twelve days later, I was living on the good wishes of good friends, and wondering when, if ever, I would be "homed" again.It's so very easy for one to think of someone like me, talented, enormous skills, and think "well, you're choosing to do this." At some metaphysical level, that's probably true.

However, when your day is consumed with trying to keep your household going, or trying to figure out where you can put everything when you cannot keep it going, and then trying to help out the people with whom you're staying by doing their house cleaning and chores - there is little time left for actual work. Bouncing around from friend's sofa to friend's sofa leaves little time for planning and execution of your recovery - you barely get your shaving tackle situated and it's time to move on to the next friendly place for a few days. Everyone in your life wants to hear from you "how did this happen? What are you going to do next?" Hours each day of concern - hours that eat up whatever time you do have to make something for yourself.

Hours of concern that can only be interpreted by you as an expression of dismay and disappointment that you didn't work hard enough or make better decisions. Concern that you just don't want to hear anymore, because none of it is helpful or new.

There are no resources for homeless people, if you have a little income and a car of your own. If I were HIV + or if I were a battered woman, there would be assistance. Our society sees fit to help no one; those who worship Ann's Rant "Atlas Shrugged" have done their best to eliminate any social net that they can adequately vilify through daily talking points.So, no bridge for me. No back seat of my car - yet. I'm luckier than most. But, I'm as homeless as the guy who just asked you for a little change on the sidewalk. I'm glad and thankful that I have what I do still have, though.

But, don't be surprised or call me unpatriotic when I say I'm not too proud of this Country of ours just now. That opinion has been a long time coming, and there is only a glimmer of hope for the future.