International Women’s Day

Happy International Women’s Day

To all of you wonderful women, and the men lucky enough to have a beautiful, strong, wonderful woman in your life.

So how did you celebrate?  Flowers?  Chocolate?  Breakfast in bed?  A meal out?

Hubby was watching CNN and announced the day.  Mcdonald’s flipped their golden arches to a W for International Women’s Day.  Sweet.

What was my celebration?  I turned on MTV Live for empowering music and sexy videos and started dancing around the house with a broom.  The sexy videos probably appeal more to men than women, but I’ll give you guys that, since you poor guys didn’t get an International Men’s Day.

I overheard two men talking during lunch a while ago, kvetching about how women have no sense of humor where locker room talk is concerned.  Women have turned a friendly slap on the behind into a criminal offence.  Women have taken all the jobs, and still women complain when men just want to work off a little tension and mix a little pleasure in with business.

Sorry men, life is hard.  Who needs equal pay, a safe work environment, and our skills judged fairly against our male counterparts at promotion times?  We have International Women’s Day.

If you haven’t celebrated with the woman in your life yet, why don’t you give her a big hug and tell her how great it is that she is the one in your life





You can’t look at me and see which half of my face is white and which is black.  A person from another world would see us as completely the same.  Just by looking at each other we can’t tell who is Republican or Democrat.  If we could tell the difference at a glance, we could avoid interaction, or know when to keep our inflammatory comments to ourselves.  Our communication with others could be pleasant and peaceful.

At the beginning of the American Experiment there were no political parties.  The person who got the most votes won the election and became president.  The runner up became Vice-President.  Our new country quickly learned having a president and a vice-president with opposing views made things difficult.  Candidates began selecting a running mate with similar views.  The two party system was born.

Today the two major parties have become polarized into very different camps.  Republicans claim to be fiscally and socially conservative.  Democrats claim to be inclusive and socially liberal.

It is not obvious who is on which team, but I hear people talking about it.  At the YMCA, the local hospital, area restaurants, people talk politics and who is in which party.

We live in the same neighborhoods, maintain our property, raise our children and send them to the same schools.  We stand on main street with our flags for the Fourth of July parade, and the annual Christmas parade to welcome Santa to town.  We shop in the same places, work in similar jobs, pay our taxes, and deal with the same issues of health and happiness.  We belong to the same clubs, organizations, and churches.

The representatives we choose should represent all of us.  The party label should be used as a guide of a similar political approach, but not as a guarantee that a party candidate thinks like you.  Look past the party rhetoric at the entire person, their record and service.

Our political views may be different, but our ballot is secret.  Say whatever you need to get along in the world.  Vote for the best person.  If that isn’t the party candidate, no one will know.



It drives me nuts.  The beautiful girls, you know them, tall with long straight hair and not an ounce over-weight, standing before the mirror in a cluster keeping everyone else away.  I’m not talking about a quick swipe of powder across the nose and a re-freshening of lipstick.  No.  Nothing but a full tease out session and complete application of their face over their already flawless skin.  Primp, primp PRIMP!

Of course these girls are not only the prettiest girls in class, but the most sociable.  There they stand monopolizing the mirror, laughing and joking, and totally involved with each other.  They never even notice that others are quietly waiting their turn.  That I am waiting my turn.  Total oblivion.

I’m not tall, my hair is short, and as the new girl in school, I am so painfully shy.  I am not allowed to wear makeup, and now that I think about it, maybe they aren’t either.  Why do full face makeup in the john, if you are actually allowed to wear makeup?  I am so annoyed.  Selfish is how I see them.  They can’t share the mirror.  Do they think they are ugly?  Nobody else does.  They certainly get all the boy’s attention.

Okay, not all the attention is the good kind.  Much of the attention is a little handsy.  A pat on the butt, a quick feel of breast.  The girls laugh it off.  I glare!  Touch me and die!  It isn’t an issue, no-one tries.  An arm slips about a waist, “I’ve got my lab partner,” he exclaims, giving her a squeeze and hauling her giggling to “their” station.

What’s a girl to do?  “You are so uptight!  Loosen up.”  Jerk!

My lab partner is another girl.  Together we take our station.  Our first experiment is about the displacement of liquid.  Someone bumps against our table sliding a book into our vessel and spills the liquid.  “We need to refill our vessel,” I tell the teacher.

Our teacher, a man, laughs.  “No refills.  You are only in this class, because it’s required.  No-one expects you to actually learn anything.  You are women.  A woman’s  brain is smaller than a mans.  Your only going to get married and have babies.”  My first assignment, and I have an F.  What am I going to do.  I am going to be in so much trouble.

I toss my aborted report into the trash.  What else can I do.  Day after day of this.  God I hate school.  My headache starts as I leave my block, and gets worse as I get closer to school.  I run a comb through my hair, since I can’t get near the mirror, and go through the same routine again.  One failing paper after another.  “Oh look.  Proof girls should not be in a science class.  All of these girls have F’s.”  The boys laugh.

If I had been facing the class, instead of the board, I might have seen the few boys just sitting quietly, but of course I don’t.

My headache fades as I get closer to home.  The steady steam of F’s is a problem for another day.

Has it Become Stylish

This morning in the silence, I started thinking about political news.  Each side can tell you what gives them pause.  In fact, you can probably tell me what gives the other side pause.  Every election season it’s the same thing.  If people actually believed the political rhetoric spouted during an election, we would have to agree that all our leaders are tricky, shifty, lying, crooked, dishonest, indecisive, gutless, flip-floppers.  And we elect these people!  Every public office in the land is full of these people that we all think so little of.

The country would be a total loss if this were in fact true.  Even electing the one person who says they have all the answers would not be enough to fix the mess.

Politically speaking, we have thrown decorum, courtesy, and diplomacy out the window.   It is stylish to not pull our punches, tell it like it is, let the chips fall where they may, without consideration for the pain and suffering of the people our policy will be directly affecting.

Decorum is politically correct.  We don’t need it!  We can simply remove anyone who disagrees.  We have right on our side, so if we can get a punch or two in, so much the better.  Heck, why wait until they actually make a scene or disagree?  You can tell by how they look that they are trouble makers.  Heck, we are entitled to our own opinion, so why listen to any other opinion.  We can mock, ridicule and ignor anyone who disagrees.

Courtesy is politically correct.  Why be courteous when we can reduce everything a person is, all their struggles and concerns into a harshly worded tweet, or denigrating term?   We can call people names, and are praised because of it.  We are telling it like it is!  We are being honest!  We are right and you are wrong!

Diplomacy is also politically correct.  Why use diplomatic means of solving problems when you can use your power to get your way?  Why negotiate when you can dictate?  Why compromise when we are powerful?  We don’t agree and aren’t going to, unless we get our way.

The truth is, we don’t want to spend our time working out how pay for public projects and services.  If we want highways, bridges, schools, trade between states and countries then we need government.  If we want a legal system, fire, police and a military to cope with threats from not only within our country but from around the world, then we need government.

We need a free press to keep us informed of things we can’t be present for.   A press free to report the facts as they see them, and not in a manner approved by our political representatives.  A press of diverse points of view, not cherry picked and approved by our leaders.

If you sincerely believe all of our representatives are crooks, then you have the freedom to step up, and give us the leadership we need.  If you don’t trust the press you have the freedom to get yourself out to meetings and see for yourself exactly what is being done in those meetings, plus you could write your own report.  Every governing body has a gallery for those who wish to see our leaders at work, from the smallest local council or school board to Congress.

Once Admired

Merriam-Webster Logo     Full Definition of politically correct

  1. :  conforming to a belief that language and practices which could offend political sensibilities (as in matters of sex or race) should be eliminated

political correctness noun
My grandmother, Florence Dismukes, never heard of politically correct.  Grandma did refer to black people as niggers, but she never used the word in a punitive, derisive, derogatory, belittling, or detracting way.  This was just the way she learned to talk many, many years ago.  Speaking to any person she used their name, and always treated everyone with respect. There was not a single person who would have corrected my Grandmother.  The most militant young black man would have been raised better than to correct an old woman who was entirely kind and respectful in every other way.  The only person who would dare to correct her was me, her 16 year old granddaughter.
“Grandma, they want to be called African-Americans,” I told her, only later was Black the generally accepted term.  “Honey, I’m to old to change the way I talk now.  But I don’t mean anything bad by it.  I treat everyone with respect and that is what is important,” she said.
This conversation took place before correctness was politicized.  People tried to be correct! People showed respect in their actions and their speech, and tried not to give offence.  The expression “live and let live” was often invoked along with the reminder to “judge not, lest you be judged.”
Politeness was expected in political discourse.  There was a way things were done.  A formal correctness controlled meetings in government, as well as other social groups.  People waited their turn, addressed the chair and group, and said their piece without interruption.  There was no name calling, and rudeness.  People spoke passionately and with conviction about issues, and then allowed the next person the same opportunity.
Unfortunately, this politeness in political discourse is only accorded to those we agree with.  If we disagree, all expectations of respect for each other is suspended.  There are no limits at to what is acceptable to get, and keep, your way.  An opinion expressed politely, without rage and righteous indignation expressed with abandon, is viewed as weak, lacking in soul, and lacking honesty.  We are seeing this daily as we go through this election cycle.
Candidates call those who disagree liars, question their physical attributes, and blame the press for the types of questions they ask and how they shape the news to mislead the voters.  It is the fault of the President, Congress, liberals , conservatives that we don’t have everything the way “we” want, and if “we” can only be loud enough, be aggressive enough “we” can fix everything.
Unfortunately, no one is listening anymore.
I would like to see a little more political correctness.  What I would like the most, is to know that the persons holding office or going for office, are there to represent my interests and make our United States a good place for all of us.

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