Author: scribe

Last night I had a very bad dream in which my October Social Security Retirement Check did not come. The rent was due, the cupboards nearly empty, and prescriptions needed filling at full price, because of the donut hole.  My phone calls went in useless circles, and the penalties for late rent payment began to pile up.

Then, still caught in this nightmare of a dream,  came a letter in the mail that informed me that due to the need to help the market stay afloat, there would be no further SS checks for an undermined length of time.   The second letter I opened was from HUD, notifying that all Project based Section 8 housing funds were also needed for the bailout and would end effective immediately.

I need that housing subsidy in order to afford a place to live.
I need that SS check to survive: it is my only income.

It is my only income, because I had to use all my savings long ago while waiting for Social Security Disability to be approved, and then to pay for medical expenses while waiting out the two year period before Medicare would kick in.  Disability caused by a back injury that could only get worse as I aged, and did, until I could no longer work at all anymore by age 55, after 40 years in the work force.  I didn’t have a lot  of savings anyway, because as a single mother widowed at age 29 and raising two kids alone, you just can’t save up a whole lot of money.

It was a tremendous challenge, learning how survive and enjoy life on such a small income in these times. If forced me to reevaluate everything I thought I knew about what is truly the important in life. And I managed it. I managed to create a brand new, extremely fulfilling life.  

The dream wouldn’t stop. In it, I sat frozen in disbelief, facing the end of the road.  After all those years of working so damned hard, raising my kids on my own, paying taxes and being a productive citizen, this is how it will end?

Oh I know my kids wouldn’t allow me to end up on the streets. Somehow, one of them would carve out some small space for me in their very small houses, if it came to that. They wouldn’t  let me starve.  But oh my gawd: they don’t want me to live with them one bit more than I want to live with either of them! No matter how much we love each other, it would be certain disaster.  And who knows how long either of THEM will have jobs houses TO share, as much debt as they are both carrying and with their own savings now at such risk, also.  

Am I really still in America?
Is this really happening?
Please let me wake up.
Please let this all be a very bad dream.    

I woke up. Yes, thankfully, it was a bad dream.  
But after spending an hour on the internet reading about the bailout and the sick, terminally corrupted political system in charge of things, there is no way NOT to know it is very possible that my very bad dream could well be a premonition of what could yet come.

I’ve faced potential homelessness before, but I was still young, fit, and able to protect myself. Now I am old and disabled. Still, I could probably last on the streets for while, because I know where the homeless vets hang out, and I’d go to them with full confidence that they would help protect me as best they could.

If I am destined to be left to die on the streets by this wonderful country of mine, this land of the free and home of the brave, who better to die along side, than these old forgotten soldiers who gave their lives for this country, but just haven’t died yet.

May the force be with us all.      

UPDATE

I had a very interesting conversation today with a small group of my neighbors here in this 100 unit building for seniors. About half had involved and well off family members they knew would take care of them, so they weren’t too worried. The rest of us live only on SS income. What impressed me the most was that that no once seemed surprised by anything happening: we all have watched it coming, so we got right down to brainstorming what we could do..”If”. It’s grist for another diary to come: for now, it’s enough to say it is NOT wise to underestimate the power of age, experience and proven survival skills when combined with one hell of a sense of humor!

On the streets, men who use women for sex can be arrested for being “johns”.

In Washington, men who use women like “John” McCain does get standing ovations.

 
Nice try, John. But no cigar.

Yes, you did manage to find the “perfect soul mate” if you were looking for a match the sorry excuse of a soul you have left. She’s perfect for the job of convincing the sad excuse of a base you still think you have to vote for you, now that you’ve sold out all the rest of  principles to the highest bidder and are still coming up short.

Oh, you’ve got THEM in your pocket now, for sure.
You somehow managed to find a very pretty, right wing fundie, creationist, book banning Mama Governor, who just gave birth to a special needs baby that she was more than willing to display, (face first, yet!) in front of your whole National Convention!  Mission Accomplished. Hope your codpiece fit.

Dressed like Marion the Librarian, with a walk that looked like her knees were glued together, she skillfully parroted all the words you programmed into her teleprompter just like a good girl should. Gotta hand it to you, John, ya did good. (Except you should do something about her automatic recoil reaction whenever you try to hug her: that doesn’t look so good.)  

But, no cigar, John, no cigar. Your life time of using women for your personal gain is OVER.  

You’ve lost it ol man, whatever you once had: it’s withered away along with your soul, and there isn’t enough Viagra in this entire world to bring it back up.

You’re the emperor who has torn off his OWN clothes and is now standing there in all your limp and withered glory.

Sorry, John.
No cigar.

VP pick Sara Palin frightens me.  

She frightens me because I fully understand the power of ultra conservative, fundamentalist women and I know how many of them there still are. All I have to do is go sit in a diner in any small town in Minnesota, and listen to nearby conversations for a half hour to know that things are not than much different today than they were in the 60’s, for women born and raised there.

Or I can simply stay home and spend time in the Lobby of this large senior apartment complex, and listen to my “good christian neighbors” bemoaning the lack of morals, those “godless gays”, and how “The blacks are everywhere now!”
I understand this power because I was raised by this these kinds of people,  in a time and culture where every single societal value and norm was dictated by the same right wing religious fanaticism McCain is pandering to by choosing this particular woman to run for VP.  

McCain/Rove know exactly what I know: that these women, along with their men, all programmed to the core by fundamentalist Christianity and Ultra Conservative values, will be the FIRST  at the polls come November. They will be first in line because they are absolutely CONVINCED they are not only doing Gods will, but are also PROTECTING their children and their families.

 McCain/Rove KNOW there is no way any new information can ever penetrate minds that solidly programmed by right wing religious/conservative ideology.   These people are fighting a “religious war” against evil, in their own minds, and anyone who discounts the power of people coming from a stance like that, is playing with pure, explosive fire.

McCain/Rove know EXACTLY what they’re doing. They picked exactly the right “bait”,  in Palin, to hook this crowd. This is a calculated move to use this woman to draw out enough of the fundie vote to toss the election. She’s a very valuable and expendable chess piece in this last ditch attempt to keep the power right smack in the hands that have been holding it for the past eight years.  

Do not count on anything but this: this  WILL draw the Fundie Fringe to the polls in droves.

I  promise you it will, because I KNOW these people: nothing else matters to them except winning the war against “evil”, which consists of every concept and value outside of their own.  

Please listen. I know how difficult it is for anyone who has not experienced life under the total rule of this kind of ideology, to comprehend it even being possible.

 But if EVER you come up with a measure of willingness to listen to some of us who HAVE lived under it, and have escaped it to tell the tale, this is that time, folks.

 Because to ignore the scope of the power of this Fanatic Fringe could once again sink all those bright and beautiful hopes we all felt in our hearts when the Convention ended.    We underestimated this force in 2004. We CANNOT afford to do this again, and survive as a Nation.

This fanatical fringe cannot be changed and they cannot be stopped by anything but sheer numbers of US  out- numbering them AT THE POLLS, as well as sheer numbers of us making damned sure the election is NOT rigged.

I truly believe that this election is our LAST CHANCE  TO  STOP this invasive cancer: this unholy alliance between Christian Fundamentalist Fanatics , the Neocons, and the Corporatism of the Elite.

Do NOT UNDERESTIMATE the power of a Sara Palin.
Do NOT UNDERESTIMATE the proven political skills of those with no integrity or principles, those who laugh at our Constitution, those whose only goal is to win and keep power and control in the hands of the likes of Bush/McCain.

And women, PLEASE!  ..DO NOT ALLOW THESE CRETINS TO USE THE “DIVIDE AND CONQUER” TACTICS THEY ARE SO SURE ARE GOING TO WORK AGAIN!

I know how hard it is to NOT give into the urge to attack Palin and what she stands for.
I know how hard it is to not react to the likes of a Wolf Blitzer who is so damned stupid and misogynistic  he see’s nothing wrong with looking straight  into the camera and asking “Will women be swayed by Palin’s appearance on the ticket?” as if we’re all a bunch of stupid sheep -like creatures.  (I had to fight to keep from throwing this computer right through the TV screen at that one!)

But I didn’t, because then I’m playing right into their hands.  I am not going to bite that “hook” or any of the other “hooks” attached to this selection of Palin as VP.

I am going to use what energy I have to get thinking people to the polls in November, because that is where the rubber will hit the road on this one.  

This IS a Hail Mary on McCain/Roves part, which means they are scared, damned scared of losing.
The wind is in our favor, but we ALL have to intercept this one.

Get out the vote. Get out every single vote each one of us possibly can, however we possibly can.
Don’t pass up a single opportunity to inform low info voters , not only of facts and the need to vote, but the need to WATCH THE ELECTION PROCESS LIKE HAWKS, and be willing to raise one hell of a squawk if anything fishy goes on.

I know Obama is not the “second coming”, and I know he won’t be able to fix all that’s gone so deeply wrong with this country.  But it is SO CLEAR that he IS a change agent:  the right person at the right time, with the right combination of talents, to give all of us the motivation and strength to stand up tall and say “ENOUGH”  along  with him, and then take individual action on the ground level, where it really COUNTS.

One more thing and then I’ll quit. This is to the women.

The time is coming when we will see a Woman President.  You don’t know how long I hoped to be able to say that and believe it. I can now.

But right here, right now, women, is when we can REALLY EXERT OUR COMBINED POWER TO AFFECT THE OUTCOME IN NOVEMBER.  

We have the numbers.

LET’S ROLL, WOMEN!

(Hey, it could be YOU someday, TOO!)
From the old days, when as a nurse I could run long hallways for 16 hours straight and race stock cars and snowmobiles on weekends, to life on a mobility scooter is one helluva adjustment! But I am actually doing quite well now that I’ve gotten past all the whining and moaning and groaning and being totally and completely pissed off about it all.

It certainly does give one a new perspective on the world and it’s inhabitants. For one thing, I have become an expert on BUTTS, because in crowded places, that’s mostly all you see! Big ones, little ones, fat ones, skinny one, tight ones, flabby ones, you’d be amazed at the variety. Now, sometimes I have to ask people to turn around so I can recognize them. And the one thing you learn early on is NOT to ride too closely behind anyone just coming out of a restaurant.  

It is really quite necessary to develop a strong self image and one hell of a sense of humor, if you’re going to get around this world from scooter level. It seems in the minds of many, old folks who can’t walk MUST also be of limited intelligence or senile, and probably deaf as well. That’s the only reason I can think of for why so many step in close, towering over me, and then start speaking in V-E-R-Y SLOW,LOUD voices! I used to just put up with this, but no more. If I can, I hit reverse, roll back a few feet and say “There, that’s better. Now what were you saying?!” Pretty effective most of the time. 🙂

One also has to get used to being disliked for slowing faster people down. I have a bumper sticker that says “I May Be Slow, But I’m Ahead Of YOU!”, which helps a lot. Otherwise, if a person behind me is sighing and groaning their impatience too loudly, I am likely to make a very big deal of wheeling myself out of their way, and (loudly) apologizing for delaying them, preferably in front of others. Love that snark stuff!

Crossing streets? Well now, that is NOT for the faint of heart! I don’t care HOW tall a flag you fly on your machine, there are endless numbers of drivers (most of them on cell phones!)who can’t see anything smaller than an SUV or F150, much less pay attention to crosswalks. I am quite aware that my chances of ending up as road kill are considerable higher now, but damned if I’m gonna stay home.  I am, however, considering adding one of those air horns like the big semi’s have.

Then there’s doorways, the bane of my existence. Especially the “pull” type ones: ones arms are only SO long. Makes me grateful there are still so many considerate people around. And grateful too that I can still walk short distances, like into public bathrooms, because there is no way in hell I could maneuver a scooter with a 35 inch turning radius in any of them “accessible” or NOT!

There are many challenges: I’ve gotten my wheels stuck in railroad crossings, had batteries go dead when I’m still a mile or two from home, run into hills I can’t climb, and have tipped this thing more times than I can remember, on rough ground. And I know there are more adventures to come, one of which involves finding someone who make this OL BATMOBILE go FASTER than 5.4 MPH!  (I just found out this is possible: that the speeds are set this slow by manufacturers for safety reasons only!)

If there’s any moral to this story at all, and there probably isn’t, it would be to find your fun where you can, and if there isn’t any, MAKE SOME!  

LOOK HARD for the ridiculous, hilarious side of any and all situations, because there almost always IS one, somewhere.

Then,(as soon as you possibly can), laugh at it.

(Just don’t ride behind anyone coming out of a restaurant!)

This is my 67th Fourth of July and this is a Eulogy.

I need to lay to final rest, once and for all, the last tattered shreds of my love for and blind faith in this land of mine.

To lose a long beloved one, is very hard. Even harder, is having to admit that that long beloved one never truly existed in the first place.

As if only yesterday, the memories of being literally filled to overflowing with a such deep and abiding love of America I could hardly contain it are still fresh for me.  

Every soldier I saw on the street was a part of my very own child’s heart: I loved them all so much, I embarrassed my mother terribly by inviting every soldier I met home for dinner. I had to do “something” for them at age six..anything..to show them how much I loved them all.

I remember that I cried off and on all day on the 4th of July, as I watched the Parade, hearing the Parade Drums, seeing the crisp formations of soldiers pass by, simply overwhelmed with pride and yearning to be a part of them someday. I’d find a way, even if I was “just a girl”.  

Memorial Day and the Fourth of July were the most important days in the year to me,  much more special than Christmas. The whole world stopped back then, to honor these days of gratitude for those who sacrificed their lives for our beloved America, and to celebrate her with all we had, on Independence Day.

Some of those memories are permanently etched in my brain.
Memorial Day at Evergreen Cemetery, the whole town present, the crisply uniformed ranks, the solemn boom of the 21 gun salute, the planes flying over in missing man formation…and oh, all of the flags proudly flying against the verdant green, on the graves of all those who sacrificed their lives for us….

Then came the 4th of July. Independence Day. Time to truly celebrate the birth of this Great Nation: the Home of the Free and the Brave. I am feeling frustrated as I write, because I sense there are no words I could use, to bring anyone back there with me who has never once experienced this kind of Patriotism, the kind that  seemed programmed into ones very DNA.

Another memory is also etched permanently and so vivid it can still bring tears. Standing at full attention, saluting, as the crisp, perfect formations of Soldiers marched by, my own heartbeat in total synch with the Parade Drums. Every cell of my six year old body yearning to be a part of this, filled with determination to BE a part of it, someday, even if I was “just a girl”.

So odd it seems, that memories like that not only refuse to die, but refuse to even fade, after all these long hard years of discovering that nearly all of it was a bald face lie.

This discovery took forever..and was, in a word, simply excruciating, every damned bit of it.  It was like getting my heart torn out of my body, one small bloody bit at a time. (Except during Viet Nam, when half of it got butchered and buried along side my brother in a very short time)

And it has meant giving up the very foundations my life was built on.  The love of a land where I “belonged” to something so vast, so grand, something that would always be there for me, take care of me, something so good, … to  spend the rest of my life without that foundation at ALL. I am now a  “person without a country” because the country I thought I belonged to simply never existed  

“My Country ‘Tis of Thee..” I sang out so proudly, for so long,  along with everyone else..”Sweet Land Of Liberty…of Thee I Sing!”

There is, I don’t think, any safer more wonderful feeling a human can ever have, than to feel THAT  much belonging; THAT  much love for ones country.

So when I run into older right wing patriotic types now, the ones who WILL NOT SEE…and WILL NOT CHANGE, yes, I understand them. To expect them to change, is to expect them to willing cut out their own hearts. Not all of us can do that and still survive, or are willing to even try. Then factor in the effects of right wing fundamentalist religion,  ..and it’s easy to see why maintaining the status quo is their life’s work.

 I don’t believe most of todays (ah hem) “leaders”  who have systematically torn down even the illusion of what America was and is, are old “cellular level” Patriots like this.

I think most of THEM  are greedy, power mad, souless, sociopathic  BASTARDS who are smart enough to have learned how to exploit and harness up all us old patriots, and exploit the hell out of us for personal power and gain.

And until “WE”  ALL DIE OFF…(everyone who was raised with that almost cellular level of  patriotic programming, about the history of this country, and those so well programmed by war-like religious fundamentalism,) and are replaced by enough of you, who were born into lifetimes where you had a damned chance to form your own beliefs..not a hell of a lot is going to go in any direction other than the one we’re heading in right now, big picture. That’s just how it looks to me from here.

So now must say my final good by to that America I once believed was my very own Heart-Land.  It was but an beautiful illusion, inserted into my soul.  

I can no longer sing  “My County, ‘Tis of thee, Sweet Land of Liberty, of Thee I Sing!”

But I can still sing, in a softer, sadder voice,
“My Country, Yet To Be…Sweet Land Of liberty…of Thee I Sing..”

And I am singing it, to all of you.

Take her. She’s yours now, such as she is.

Don’t hate us too much please.
Most of us did the best we could, with what we believed was true.

Remember that America, as she could be, and as I believe she is intended to be, is still in the womb gestating. She has not yet truly been “born” yet: the labor is long and it is hard, and it is going to take all of you to get this baby delivered.

It won’t be an easy birthing and I don’t think it can be done with old methods and systems long in place, either. Those belong to an era that is passing by. If every there was a time for innovation, for blazing new pathways… it’s now.

Me, well, I’m fine now. Us humans are remarkable in how much we can adapt to “whatever is”, given time enough to get past all the phases of shock, denial, depression, bargaining and finally, to acceptance and peace.

I trust you. I can make my exit knowing you will do your part in this birthing process.

(Not perfectly, however. You will bumble and stumble and get lost and try to kill each other off..just as we did!)

I still can hear the fetal heartbeat of this land yet to be born and I believe she is still viable.

And somehow, I just know I will get to see it, wherever the hell I end up..even if only as dust on the wind.. 🙂  

Fathers Day is not an easy Holiday for some. Maybe you had one who is no longer here and this is a sad day.  Maybe you never had one at all.  Maybe you had one who was not good to you, or hurt you.  Maybe you had too many of them, and none of them were able to act like one, like me.  (Original papa split before I was a year old, Step dad # 1, an abuser, Step dad # 2 a miserable, rigid, abusive alcoholic and disciplinarian.)

In any case, I do not know what it would have been like to have had a real “Dad”, and there is a place inside  me that feels that still.  To this day, when I see a father being tender and loving with his child, there is a nostalgia: I would have liked to have known that feeling, that love, that that safe, sweet, strong solace.

So today I just wanted to come together with others who may also have missed having a Dad, for whatever reason, (even if there was a man around who claimed the title, but who could not be one). This is loss we can share and not carry all alone.

On a brighter note,I also dropped in to say Happy Fathers Day to the all great fathers here I have come to know and admire so much. Please know how very important you are to your sons and your daughters. Not one second of the time you spend with them, really seeing them, listening to them, loving them, will ever be really forgotten.    Bless you all.      

These thoughts come solely from personal observations of, and experience with groups of all kinds, in many different venues, over many years, rather than on any academic basis, so as such, are totally subjective. However, studying human behaviors has been a lifetime fascination for me, and one I have delved deeply into, online especially, over this past ten years.

When people “group themselves up” in any setting, they all bring baggage with them. Every single one of us have bags full of unresolved issues of one sort or another, some we know about, some we don’t. So, there we are, in the midst of a group, and as we interact on more and more intense levels, some of those suitcases will pop open, and stuff will spill out..it is inevitable. Conflicts arise. Misunderstandings, mis-perceptions, over reactions, projection super defensiveness, attack/counter attack..you name it, it is GOING to happen, in any group, sooner or later, no matter how “cohesive” it seemed to be at the start.
This has gotten labeled as “dysfunctional” in this label loving, disease oriented culture. I don’t think it is, although I used to. Now I see this as a “process” through which we learn HOW to get along: what works and what doesn’t, to learn more about who we are..and how we are..through the feedback and reactions of others. To learn more about others. Messy and sometimes painful as hell? Certainly. So is childbirth. So are all developmental growing pains, to some degree.

Anyway, the likelihood of this kind of process getting kicked off in any grouping, go up astronomically in a limited medium like this, where all we have of each other to work with, is written communication and NO non verbal cues at all!

Non verbal communication is by far and away more impactful than spoken or written words, and here are trying to make do with only about 30 to 40 percent of the info we need to fully communicate with each other. It’s a wonder we get as much decent communication accomplished as we do!

Ok. Back to what is considered “dysfunctionality” in groups, (that I see more as a learning process.) No two of us are ever at the same place in terms of being “ready to learn” things. Or to take in new info. Some are ready to hear honest mirroring and feedback from others, and many are certainly are NOT at that stage of their lives yet, and will perceive it as an “attack” instead.

And many have no CLUE as to how to offer objective feedback in non threatening or non-judgemental manner. Thus they are almost guaranteed to trip trigger points right and left and engender immediate “defensive counter-attack.”

And to make it almost inevitable that things will deteriorate if all of this goes on too long is this simple fact: most of us cannot make the simple differentiation between a persons “behaviors” and a persons ‘intrinsic worth” as a human being. So we end up attacking each others basic character and/or integrity as a human being, based on written words said on a screen.

That’s it. That’s all we are reacting to. Words on a screen. A persons visible behavior of the moment, that may or may not reflect who that person truly is at all, if we were to come to actually know them. It took me a long time to “get” that simple reality.

My behaviors are one thing: my worth as a human being is another thing. They do not always match. There were many times in my life when my behaviors were rotten and hurtful to others, because I had no insight into myself at all at the time and my baggage was in charge of me, not my essential core self. I know now my core self was never really “rotten,” Just misguided. Ignorant of truths I had yet to learn. Affected by an addiction I was not ready to own and traumatic issues still stuck where I couldn’t see them yet. That made me a fallible human, not a “rotten” one. A” fixable” human being, once I was ready to do it.

Ok. So one way or another, we find ourselves in these groups that feel and seem to be falling apart at the freaking seams. all around our ears. Some of us panic, not wanting to lose whatever measure of belonging we had found..and attack the hell out of any visible outsiders that might be “causing” this fracturing. Or we may turn on each other. Or we may decide to walk away altogether. All of these are understandable human behaviors given wherever we each are at in our own lives.

But sometimes, this dynamic seems to escalate and takes on a life of it’s own. It begins to spread, like a virus, from place to place. Once it gets inside of us, we can end up carry it like any contagious viri, wherever else we go outside our own “group”..and infect others along the way. Until it can reach an epidemic stage.

I believe this is what we’re seeing now, in the liberal blogosphere. Not only did we all bring our own personal “baggage” to these blogs, which in itself is a hell of a growth challenge, we also were all facing head on, the visible proof of the internal demolition of our entire country unfolding before our wide open eyes.

Now THAT …is one hell of a load to place on humans who are only connected via 30 -40 percent of our ability to communicate with each other, folks. Maybe an impossible load to expect fallible human beings to handle. I will posit that it is an impossible load at this time in our evolution.

Blog owners, whether big or small, are first and foremost, imperfect human beings at various stages of maturing. Yet somehow, the expectation seems to exist that they ought to be some kind of highly advanced species, suddenly able to do what has never been done successfully in any group of humans: please everyone and never make a single mistake! Good luck with that.

Community members who loyally align themselves with these “community” type blogs, also seem to expect something that has never yet been perfected in human history: a peaceful, collaborative, community with little to no serious conflict or disruption! Good luck with that too..especially when communication with just written words that are often interpreted differently by nearly everyone reading them! And with public doorways wide open to whoever wishes to wander in!

So my conclusions are that “community political blogs” have been a necessary, valuable and fascinating ” step ahead” using new technology, in the overall human search for better ways to come together and relate effectively.

I think this “step” has served pretty much served it’s purpose quite well, and is now in process of ending itself naturally so people can pick up whatever they have earned from it, and use it for the next step ahead, whatever that will turns out to be.

I am pretty darned sure what it will take online, is a separation between “political blogs” and “community blogs”. I do not see the two goals as compatible at all. You add politics, or religion for that matter, as a focus point in any “communal gathering” and stand back..fireworks are inevitable.

Politics is only one of many ties that can bind us together in some sense of “community”.
“Debate” is not the only satisfying from of human interaction. But those who love these things most, would still have them everywhere, on political discussion boards.

Those who, for whatever reasons, desire the sense of having online “community” with others they wish to maintain connection with, can also choose to build those kinds of sites on line, in whatever format works for them.

But as far as I can see, mixing politics and “community” is an experiment that has proven impossible to maintain, due to the levels of toxicity and pollution that they have produced, and it’s time to pack up and move on to the next experiment. 🙂

I am very sad and I don’t want to sit alone with it.

I’ve tried hard to convince myself I’m really not all THAT attached to this blogging community: after all it’s just a blog, not real life.

 But I wouldn’t hurt like this, over “just a blog”. I only feel this sad when I am losing people I truly care for, with whom I’ve shared a special time and place that has become part of my life. A place that feels like it is slipping away from me even as I write.  

 
Super, Leezy, I so much hate to see you leave, even as I honor and understand your need to do so. I’ll miss Spidey too, as I have missed many others who have moved on in less than happy circumstances.  

On my smugly serene days, I hand out some mighty fine advice about how important it is to learn to “let go” of what one cannot change, and move on with life. I know I can and I will, with or without this place or any other certain place.

But in this world the way it is now, connections such as are made between us, in places like this seem more precious now than ever before.  We cannot be sure of our world anymore: or if it will even survive the madness.  We don’t know how much longer we may even have, to be able to connect with each other like this, across the miles.

How can it be, then, that perceived slights or insults become so much more important than remembering this reality?  How is it that it becomes so much more important to spew rage at each other than to hang on to each other. Just how much more important is it to be “right” and to prove another “wrong”, rather than live, let live and listen to each other?

I am too sad to be mad at anybody right now.  I’m even too sad to swear, and that doesn’t happen often.  Because I know there’s nothing I can do about any of this: not what’s happening here, not what’s happening to my country, not what’s happening in Iraq or anywhere else.

I just wish I could gather up everyone I care about, here and elsewhere, and hold them all close while I can.  

Thanks for listening.

I love to swear.
I love the satisfaction of yelling `GODDAMMITALLTOHELL!” when I hit my thumb with a hammer: it helps it hurt less.

I love the word “SHIT!” spit out forcefully, when something goes unexpectedly wrong.   (I will never have a tombstone, but if I did, it would simply read “Oh SHIT!”)

Or “SUNUVABITCH!”, which is almost as good as “SHIT!”
And then there’s “FUCK!”  

Wow. Is there another cuss word anywhere that says as much?

“FUCKIT!”    

I’d have perished by now without that phrase!
It’s the razor sharp word-lance that frees me up instantaneously, from everything that does NOT MATTER AT ALL!  
Just plain…”FUCKIT”!

The really BIG sucky stuff sometimes requires more, however, and then I am forced to use “WELL!  FUCK THAT SHIT!” accompanied by a little FUCKIT DANCE , which usually does the trick.  Luckily, I have a partner who knows all the steps too.  

Of course, these kind of verbalizations, coming out of the mouth of what appears to be a “nice lil ol lady”, is quite shocking to most, and out of respect to the other old folks I live around,  who could have a cardiac event at any moment, or at least be at risk of swallowing their dentures in a sharp intake of breath, I confine my cussing  to those treasured others who can handle my mouth.  

My crazy, out of control, alcoholic grandmother taught me to swear, before I even hit pre-school, and was the reason I got expelled soon thereafter.  She also was the only grownup in my world I could really trust back then. I always KNEW where she was coming from: when it was safe, and when it was NOT safe, to be around her.  All those others, with their prim and proper silky-sweet language, well, that was like living in a live mine field that looked like a field of flowers.  

Then I stopped swearing for many, many years. It got beaten out of me by an overtly sexist society and by the church. I learned how to be a “proper Christian lady, wife, and mother” instead. Then later, I learned how to be a “successful professional woman.”
(Unfortunately, only way to keep the swear words from coming out during all of this was to become a closet alcoholic, but eventually, I got past that too.)

Now, however, I am old, and I am finally FREE! Now I get to go back to being who I was all along, under all of those disguises. And I am an old woman who loves to SWEAR, and who very much loves other people to also “dare to swear!”

Cuss words are short, honest and clear: they are not packed full of hidden meanings or messages. You can trust them.

They are spontaneous, not carefully planned, spun stupid words, calculated to elicit a desired response.

They are brave enough to demand equal time with all the insincere slop that passes for human communication.  

They are real words, spoken by real people who care more about honest communication than they care about the “approval” of others.

When I meet someone new, and hear that first “Damn!” or “Shit!” or “Fuck” come out of their mouths, I know I’ve met someone I will  probably like: someone who is clear about who they are and are content with themselves enough to risk honest, open communication.

When I meet someone whose communication is always  carefully measured, “politically correct” and “socially acceptable”, I have usually met someone living behind one façade or another: in any case, it will take awhile to discover who they really “are” underneath it, if they are even open to even being “discovered” as who they really are at all.

One thing about getting old: you know time is not endless anymore, and I’m damned if I intend to waste anymore of mine. It took me most of this lifetime to excavate my authentic self from the cast iron molds people stuffed me into, and the rest of this gig will be spent around real people, as my real self!

And if that’s a hardship on anyone around me, well, just FUCK EM ALL!

(Your turn now, to take little break from the heavy stuff!! )  

None of what you will read here came as any surprise to me, because I’ve worked as an RN Case Manager in Home Health Care, and had ample opportunity to see how private business gouges the hell out of the taxpayer, by exploiting the illnesses of vulnerable and aging Americans in order to make the most profit possible.

But I have a brand new clear and current example to share to illustrate this, now that I am over 65, disabled, on very low income, thus qualifying  for some services myself.
I qualify for an program in my state that uses a combo of federal and state money to help Elders remain in their home as long as possible.  It will help pay for durable medical supplies and equipment, Home Health Aids, housekeeping support, meals: things Medicare doesn’t cover, for low income elders.

I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, (S.A,D), thus  tend toward depression in the low light months here in Minnesota. I handle it nicely with light therapy, but my unit was broken in my last move.  The Case Manager assigned said the grant would pay for another one for me, if Medicare wouldn’t.  

She contacted a medical supply business the county has contracted with, who then called me to discuss the kind they could provide, and gave me a website to visit to see if it was acceptable to me.  (note: I have researched these things extensively and know what I need)   The one they would provide was only 5000 Lux, or half the power of all the other small units sold for the same price.  (200.00: online pricing)   So I gave her the URL for 10000 Lux unit, at the same price, for her to consider.

Yesterday, the Case Manager called me back with the news that the unit I wanted was over 425.00 and too costly. Whoa.   I was looking at the online price of it as we spoke:  $199.00.  

So, bottom line: this medical supply Business would charge the Grant Fund (taxpayer monies) $ 425.00 for a Light Unit that could be purchased online for $200.00.  
Over 100% profit.  

This company, (one of several Medical Supply companies this county has awarded contracts to,) are the only places County Case Managers are allowed to use to purchase services and equipment.  

Case Managers have no choice. They know full well the markups are as high as these companies can possible get by with. They are also painfully aware that Grant Funds like this are not nearly sufficient to meet the needs of so many Elders and people with chronic illness/disabilities who need this kind of help now.  

THIS, people, is the inevitable outcome of privatization of our Health Care system, and turning it over to profit making business and “free market” principles.    

How anyone could ever have thought this could EVER be a cheaper way to provide health care simply boggles my mind. Any fool knows private for profit business will strive to make as much profit as the market will bear.  

I’ve been shouting this from the rooftops for so many years I’ve nearly lost my voice.
So many of us have.
And so few have listened.

THIS is why health care costs have sky rocketed beyond belief in this country!

And why, no matter how much tax payer money is dumped into this kind of for profit system, there will never be enough to go around to care for all the sick and the aged who deserve decent care.  It goes into the pockets of businesses like this one, who has to make 100 plus percent profit off the fact I am old,poor and have S.A.D, and the fact they can get their hands on  guaranteed easy money from sleeping taxpayers pockets.

MEDICARE IS NOT BROKEN!

It is simply being exploited all to hell and back by private Corporations, for as much profit as they can possible squeeze right out of it, in a million different “legal” and illegal  ways. Each for-profit segment of it, through the whole health care delivery system tries to make the most possible profit it can.  

I guarantee you,  this is “business as usual” across the board, at all levels of the health care delivery system, and has been, for years and years.  It is the reason I am so glad to be finally done with my professional insider role: I couldn’t bear watching the most vulnerable among  us so go without the quality care they needed, so some damned corporate bottom line looked good for the shareholders.  

Nor could I bear seeing my role as a skilled hands on RN caregiver in long term care settings  morph totally into making me into a pill pushing, paper-shuffling, corporate clone with little to no time left for me to even be with my patients at all.

I entered this profession 35 years ago when it was still a patient centered healing profession that most of us were “called to”.  I have had to watch it be systematically destroyed and changed into a profit centered business where the patient most often comes last.  Watching from bedside, witnessing the unnecessary suffering and yes early deaths, this has caused to the most vulnerable among us literally broke my heart into so many pieces it will can never  totally heal.

I canceled my request for the light box because I know myself: not once could I use that thing without getting furious all over again about how I was exploited once more, this time as a client myself, so some Medical Supply business could have their 100% profit margin.

Nor could I ever use it without thinking about how TWO people with S.A.D could have this needed and effective treatment, for what mine cost the grant alone.  Or thinking about the other older folks I know who are going without equipment that could help them stay mobile or otherwise keep them active and well, if there were only enough monies to go around.  

I need new scooter batteries soon. I know I can get them at Batteries Plus for 135.00. I can just about guess what they what they would cost if purchased though a contract business by my Case Manager.  

But I simply cannot participate in what is, to me a criminal activity and still sleep nights.  I’ll find my own way to get what I need, just as I always have and quite successfully, too.

Of course, I intend to write another letter to the Editor, and then start some research how this is grant is being administered on county/state levels. I want to know how these contracts are awarded, by whom, and by what criteria.  I want to know how these companies can get by with gouging the taxpayers like this, by exploiting the illness and aging of most vulnerable among us. I can find no reason to feel proud of being a citizen of a country that operates like this.