Soapbox

    I had some fun last night making fun of Mike Huckabee's recent statement about women and how the GOP is actually empowering them, fighting a war FOR women not on them, and that liberals only want birth control pills covered by health insurance because they think women 'cannot control their libidos'.
    Right! Whereas Mike and Rick Santorm know that, with the right "empowerment" (which apparently is code for 'Pioneer women didn't need Gal insurance. ladies, and neither do you!") we can stop being sluts who need our daily slut pills from "Uncle Sugar".  Barfity-barf! As one blogger said "The way I control my libido is by thinking about Mike Huckabee".
    But this morning, another phrase he used caught my eye.

    Huckabee said that GOP policy initiatives (like no birth control coverage, closing Planned Parenthood clinics, wanting the IRS to audit your rape and unnecessary transvaginal probes) are unfairly labeled a 'war on women' when in fact, this is how the Republican party helps American women "be something other than victims of their gender".

    Excuse me? A victim of my gender?
    Ex- freakin- SCUSE ME!!????

    Getting affordable women's health care (the way men get their gender-specific health needs covered) makes me a victim of my gender? But needing prostate exams and all the low-T cream and boner pills you guys apparently can't live without doesn't make you victims of your gender?

    Yes, female America: Unplanned Pregnancy is freedom!  The Republican party wants you to know that untreated hormonal imbalance is liberty!!  And letting your rapist stop you from having an abortion is empowerment. You're welcome, girls. Now go make Mike a sandwich.
    And old Huck and the wise all-male committees of the GOP want to magically help me rise ABOVE my nasty, slutty lady parts… by restricting my access to health care. Gosh, instead of fighting it, maybe I should just lay back, close my eyes and enjoy all the power, huh?

    Huckabee wants America to believe that if you take away a low-income woman's access to Pap smears and mammograms, take away her ability to control her hormones and control her fertility (in some way other than by Withholding Sex, guys- think about it!) and saddle her with child after child which she cannot feed– you empower her.

    That is cruel, misogynistic and it's massively, mind-bogglingly Stupid!
     But what can you expect from people that would empower the unemployed- not by helping them find jobs, but by denying assistance, and who think that the way to help hungry people rise above their poverty is by taking away their FOOD!?

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away… there was a Fuller Brush man.

   When I was a kid we had, in our closet, a small pink spray jar of room scent. It was called "HollyBerry" and it was made by the Fuller Brush company. We were not a family big on spraying scents in our house, but for some reason we all loved the smell of this spray, and, more than Grandma's raisin bread, it came to be the one scent associated with Christmas. Or maybe we loved it because we only sprayed it at Christmas- I don't know. But if you had cleaned downstairs, and it was nearly Christmas, you could get the can out and give one tiny squirt. Then you could sit back and watch people come through the living room and lift their heads and snif… and sigh. Hollyberry!
    And as such things happen, after a while we couldn't get it any more, and so the remaining supply was jealously guarded and doled out in miserly doses. So miserly, in fact, that when we sold the old family house, there was still a half-bottle on a shelf somewhere, and it came into my posession.
    So, for the last 22 years there has been, on the closet shelf by the front door, a small, unassuming pink bottle of HollyBerry spray. It gets hats and gloves tossed atop it or packages of batteries shoved in front of it. Many years I don't even remember it is there.

   This morning Tucker waited all the way until 6:20 AM before he came striding through the bedroom hoping to rouse someone. As I followed him downstairs he danced with excitement and I imagined he was saying Mom! Mom!! There's a can of wet dog food on the kitchen counter! I think Santa was here!!! It was nice to imagine someone excited about Christmas.
    After I fed the dogs and put them out I stood in the living room and looked at the tree. It's a beautiful tree again this year, with far too many brightly wrapped packages beneath it. I thought of how Christmas has become a somewhat empty ritual, and even at times a chore, with I have to finish my Christmas shopping ranking right up there with I have to clean out the refrigerator on the "Wonder and Joy" scale. This season has been much less stressful for me since I didn't have to work retail, hawking Christmas to other people, and I even had the time to make a few things, which used to be my favorite part of the holiday. Not bah-humbug, still… not enough fun. Not enough music (of the none shopping mall muzak variety!). Not enough childhood.
    Then I remembered the Hollyberry. I sprayed a small puff next to the Christmas tree, waited a minute, and then inhaled deeply.

    I closed my eyes and there it all was: the house on Shannon Ave with it's hardwood floors and braided rugs, large windows and warm yellow kitchen. I could see the Christmas tree, (which we cut ourselves from a local tree farm) sitting atop the wooden box my father made to raise the tree off the floor and make it easier to get gifts beneath it. I saw the old glass ornaments, including the frosted white ones that only older kids were ever allowed to hang because they were so fragile. I saw the bright plastic  bells that the little kids were allowed to hang on the lower branches, and the sturdy wooden ornament set that my grandparents made for each of their childrens' families. The tree was lit with large colored bulbs, each framed by a sparkling petal-shaped reflector that my dad made by hand in the basement. There would, of course, be raisin bread and heirloom rolled oats cookies in the kitchen, and mom was probably in the family room at her sewing machine, trying to finish up a gift in time to get it under the tree.
    Upstairs in my bedroom I was at the window, looking out on the cold night, sure I had just heard bells.

    I let myself drift on forward to the first Christmas Ted and I had together in our tiny apartment on Barclay Square. We bought tiny candle-holder clamps at a shop in German village and actually had candles on our tree, though we were so afraid to light them. We strung popcorn and cranberries and Ted carefully made a star from a piece of cardboard and aluminum foil. It was beautiful.
   Another (pre-parenting) Christmas we spent many evenings decorating fabric-colored styrofoam balls with ribbon, lace and beads. Each one is different and each year I change my mind about which one I like best. If I ever find those plain ornaments again I want to buy more: I still have all the little film canisters of tiny beads tucked inside the old box of lace scraps.
    And then of course there were the years when the kids were little: when Stephen (age 5?) decided the house needed more decoration so he drew some ornaments, a gift box, and elf, etc on a piece of notebook paper, cut them out and then taped them up all over the house to surprise us. (Surprise! There's tape all over your walls!)  Oh- and the year Katie made me the tiny angel out of paper with the sweetest face. (Of course I still have the angel and several of the 'decorations'). There was the year when the cat died right before Christmas, and I got each othem a little stuffed cat, and they loved them so. And the year the kids put out cookies for Santa and Mischa ate them while we were upstairs getting them in bed, and when we came down and saw the empty plate, for just the smallest fraction of a second…
   
    After 40+ years, the scent of Hollyberry does not last so long as it used to. After 10 minutes or so it dissipated, but by then the coffee was done and cinnamon rolls were in the oven, and one mustn't stay in the past too long anyway. I haven't opened my gifts yet, but I hope no one minds if I say that that little poof of Christmas past is probably going to be my favorite gift this year.

  The latest assault in the annual escalation of hostities in the War about Christmas came (as usual) from FOX's panzer division. Megyn Kelly was offended by a blogger's light-hearted comment that she didn't see why Santa had to always be shown as a white man because lots of black kids felt kind of left out by this- so maybe Santa should just be a penguin or something loveable and raceless.

        "By the way, for all you kids watching at home" Kelly said,
         addressing the mythical children watching her 10 PM political
         show, "Santa is white… Santa is what he is. 
          …Jesus was a white man too. He was a historical figure,
          that’s a verifiable fact – as is Santa. How do you just
          revise it in the middle of the legacy of the story and just
          change Santa from white to black?"    

    Where to start- where to start? Should we begin with the fact that historical St. Nicholas, on whom Santa is only partly based, was from what is now Turkey, and while he wasn't African, he most certainly was not what FOX News considers "white"? Or that 'the legacy' of Santa has already been changed a hundred times and exists in a dozen different forms in a dozen different cultures around the world, from Sinterklass, based on the Norse God Odin, to other pagan entities. (And then there's Jesus, who was about as white as a modern Palestinian- hate to break it to your priveledged white ass, Megyn)

   But here's what it all boils down to, for me: Santa is white. He's also black, Hispanic, Asian and Cherokee. He is rich and poor, healthy and handicapped, and speaks every language on the planet. Because Santa, dear Megyn, is a myth. But more than that- he is a myth of universal kindness towards all children, no matter their nation of origin or economic status.
    Not all children hear the story of Santa, (and of course for far too many, Santa's pack is empty) but the ones who do are told that Santa visits all children, whether they live in mansions or shantytowns, foster homes or under a bridge. He comes whether he has to wear snow shoes or beach sandals because on Christmas, Santa visits children to let them know that they are loved.
    Don't you see that it doesn't matter what color Santa's skin is, or his nationality? The myth of Santa is about acceptance and kindness to all, no matter what language they speak or color their skin is. If Santa loves everyone, than Santa can BE anyone.
   And Megyn, if you cannot even conceive of the possibility of an iconic myth of universal kindess and acceptance that wears brown skin… you do not understand the meaning of acceptance or of universal anything.
   And you have a very small heart.

    Republicans love to quote Ronnie the Reagan and say "Government IS the problem" because to them, government- not greed or corruption, oppression or lack of empathy for others- no, Government is THE problem. Taxes- those things that fix the roads and fund research and maintain the parks and pay congressional salaries- are the root of all evil!
    Heck,  Bill O'Reilly just wrote a book in which he (noted religious scholar that he is)  argues that Jesus's most important message to the world was "don't pay your taxes!". In a mind-set that seriously warped, government is worse than just about anything. (…say the people who work for the government… sheesh.)

    So now we have ourselves a scenario where, unless the President agrees to cancel implementation of health care reform, the Republican party is ready to shut down the government. And why not?  Government is the problem…. well, unless you happen to want your food inspected for safety, or your bridges repaired before they collapse or washed out roads rebuilt; unless you were going to buy food with your paycheck that now won't be coming because you work for the government, or in a business affected by all the government employees who now don't have any money to spend with you.
    For all his many (many many many) faults, Ronald Reagan recognized this. That's why Mr "Government is the Problem" Reagan raised the debt ceiling Eighteen times! Because, even with Alzheimer's, Reagan recognized that, once you have spent the money, you've got to pay the bills! And because back then, the opposition party, for all their many (many!) faults, believed that, no matter how much you oppose the actions of the duly elected president, you don't get back at him by threatening to destroy the economy.
    That's not governing- that's terrorism!

    But as bad- as STUPID as a government shut down would be, the potential default we are facing would be 100x worse. It's like comparing Influenza to Ebola. And right now, the Republican congress, with evil super-villain Ted Cruz apparently calling the shots, is trying to decide whether to deliberately give the United States of America influenza or Ebola…. or maybe BOTH!
    We have No clear picture of what a default would do, because up until now- up until the Joker+Riddler+Penguin Tea Party took over driving the bus- it was never even considered. It was a doomsday scenario that was something we worked feverishly to prevent, not threatened to detonate. Something that only a madman would even think about.
    Remember 2008? Remember how much fun THAT was? Well you ain't seen nothin' yet. If the US defaults on their Treasury bonds, most economists agree that it could plunge not just the U.S. but the entire world into a recession.

    And by the way, remember that all of this ridiculous, expensive and potentially dangerous melodrama is happening because the GOP is trying desperately to
          1) prevent YOU from getting health insurance (because if you can take your kid to a doctor when she gets sick, Hitler wins, or something) and
          2) get out of raising taxes on themselves and their millionaire and billionaire friends, like the Koch Brothers.
          3) destroy Barack Obama, even if they have to destroy you and the world economy to do it.

    Yes, Tea Party- getting control of the debt and the deficit is important. (Not important enough for you to tax a few billionaires over, but whatever) Yes, maybe the national family needs to stop spending money we don't have on  phone bills. But the solution is not to threaten to blow the house up with everyone inside if the kids don't stop texting!!
   You want to reduce government over-spending? You don't send a few meat inspectors home and delay paychecks to our soldiers. Government shutdown will increase unemployment and the need for food stamps and increase our debt! And oh yeah- it will potentially sicken or kill people!
    You need to pay your bills, you TAX THE RICH.

    But you know- maybe Reagan was right. You are the United States Congress. You ARE government!! And clearly, You ARE the problem!
     If you cannot get past this irrational hatred you have for the duly elected president long enough to just do the job we are paying you to do: if you cannot and will not govern… then go home. Furlough yourselves. That will save us a little money- and a LOT of misery. And unllike millions of other government workers, we have no worries about you paying your bills. I"m sure all your friendly neighborhood oil and tobacco and pharma and gun and weapons lobbyists will be happy to tide you over.

    The definition of 'friend' on Facebook is different for different people.
(For instance, anyone who has 2,000 Facebook 'friends' clerly defines that word differently than I do. I may be a bit of a recluse but nobody actually knows 2,000 people!)
     When I accept friend requests, I do it for several reasons: 1) I actually know, or have known the person or 2) We seem to share similar interests/views and I think I may enjoy and learn from the things they post.
    Being a person without a ton of friends, I am loath to lose them. I hate unfriending people- maybe because a few of those who have unfriended me have really stung. Also, it just seems judgemental and presumptuous. Who am I to say that this person is not worthy of scrolling past a status update on my wall? (I do make an exception for people who make blatantly bigoted statements. They are gone!)
 
   Rather than unfriend, I have hidden a few people whom I don't want to unfriend but from whom I just don't get anything. One woman I knew from church years ago is perfectly nice but all she EVER posts about is NASCAR. Literally all.
   And today I decided to hide someone else. He used to be a family friend long ago when we were all kids, and I made him a 'friend' because I wanted to get to know more about him after all these years. But that hasn't happened, and it's not going to.
    All he ever, ever posts about is his ministry. Nothing about how his day is going, how his kids are, what his dog did: there are less personal details in his posts than in a church newsletter. So I usually just scroll past, but out of politeness I sometimes read his stuff, as I did today with an article he assured me was 'amazing' and 'so loving!'.
    And it really wasn't.
    It was about loving Muslims 'without an agenda'.  First it pointed out that- poor Muslims!- their entire faith is based on a lie! And then it makes it clear that one is to love Muslims with all your might until you can bring them to Jesus. Not to verbally evangalize their poor miserable souls, but because through the power of your superior faith you can eventually show them that theirs is wrong.
    That sounds like an agenda to me!

    And I thought of saying something to that effect… but I also make it a point not to criticize people's religious posts. There's a woman I know from high school who posts these things that say (usually with an incorrect use of your/you're or their/there)  If you repost this post and prove your not ashamed of Jesus then God will bless you!
    I think is based on a mind-blowingly ridiculous theology, predicated that 1)You need to periodically 'buy' blessings from God and 2) God, the almighty creator of the Universe gives a s**t what you post on Facebook. But she is a genuinely sweet person who has a good heart, who paints and loves her dogs and actually interacts with me from time-to-time on FB. So I leave her to her theology as she leaves me to mine.

    So I"m looking at this post today and thinking,  All I ever get from this Facebook contact is religious stuff. Religious stuff that I either find utterly uninteresting or disagree with. Yet I feel compelled NOT to comment on religious stuff people post. So… why am I 'friends' with this person?
    I used to know him, 4 decades ago. But nothing he posts now will ever help me get to know him again- unless all he truly cares about is his ministry. In which case we have nothing in common and what's the point?

    So, I am hiding him from my wall. I guess I feel guilty about it or something- why else would I feel compelled to explain myself to my own blog? But there is just no there  there.