To be fair, it wasn’t so much WHAT he said that I disagreed with, rather I’m just so angry that this horrible man-child on the daily making more mountains out of molehills, and here we are even discussing this crap, still. Letting that man manipulate us right in through the back door and onto the front porch. Nope. Nope. Nope.
Yesterday out to Dodge to visit with Dad and MsB, up from the U S Of A for a visit and staying at my sister’s, our Homestead, the family Homestead. Said hi to everyone, kiss kiss, afterwards found Dad out on the porch already, so I joined him for a smoke, and sipping my Timmy’s ice cap, watching all these Orioles and Sparrows flitting about, and that’s when Dad pipes up with “so, how you likin’ that new Premier of Ontario, Ford, guess he told Trudeau that Toronto is not taking any of those asylum seekers, so don’t bother sending any”.
I didn’t bite, gave him a “umph” in response; and then I saidhe may not have a choice.
Then he got me up to speed with his latest news beefs, one of them was not being allowed to say cotton-pickin’ any longer. Guess he was watching some news show where some black man slammed down his hand in disgust at some white skinned talking head using the term, a curse really, and Dad’s like “I picked cotton, that stuff hurts, it’s picky, why can’t I say cotton-pickin”?
Here we go. I’m like, I don’t know Dad, language changes you know; things you said a hundred years ago you wouldn’t say now, things you said just 25 years ago, 50 years ago. Old men don’t adjust well, I get that.
Then he tried a couple more jabs at my political triggers, I’m thinkin’ the whole time old Man, I will not be enticed into some pointless argument with you.
Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and I’m not going to change anyone’s mind with fancy words and good arguments, too late for that. The only thing we could agree on is that Weinstein and Spacey are friggin sick predators who should be locked up.
Does boggle my mind, aside from 20,000 overly educated science geeks who without one shadow of a doubt collectively agree that human-made climate change is real, and I wonder sometimes if it would make better sense to just be greedy, for one’s own pleasure and not even be considering the plight of the snapping turtle or Plover.
Maybe instead think…where do you want to play? Would you want your dog drinking river water that is polluted and may give him cancer? – is what I’d like to have said, something I’d like to point out, one of the many reasons I dislike that man he elected so very very much, no eye for the future, just the here and now and short on science and long on rhetoric and greed.
About asylum seekers and Ford, and taxes and lgbqt…rights, and words we can use, not use, these are the things that divide the right from the left, the things that mean something to us, is what divides, and that rotten man in Washington feeds off that. This tide of hate I feel around me everywhere, and racism in plain sight, illuminated by a dollar store tiki torch, and I want to save the world, and my Dad knows that too.
He knows that idealistic little girl, the one whose heart is easily broken, yet gawd help her if she’d say anything, bottom lip aquiver, turns away and to handle it all on her own.
He knows her.
The little girl with values that run deep, and knows the cold silence of my disappointment, my anger, my truth I betray with my silence. The absence of my words maybe speaks louder to him than one sentence could.
But, you know he surprised me. Never fails. After all that gibbering and blathering, with me saying as little as I could, and we’re on to discussing my sister’s youngest, and her decision to go to a different school than her sister, her mother, me, her grandmother, and is instead going to a high school were they wear uniforms and have a hockey team that is excited that they’ll be getting a goalie. Goalies are rare, I mean, that those who’ve decided that’s their spot, their passion, because it takes a certain mindset to stand and wait for people to hurl themselves at you, little lone the puck at you. She won’t be walking into familiar territory, a different path then the rest of us took.
So, Dad said that he’s glad she’s going there, good for her to meet different people, from different places.
I’m like WOW.
Thank you, for that difficult man and the challenges he brings, the point of view he offers me, thank you.
When the devils at the door, asking for more, and that tyrant from TV alternates our reality, wages war on human decency, feeds off the powerless, the hopeless are his fodder for a wall, the worst of them he calls his comrades, with a flick of his thumb spreads hate and lies like confetti, and I am tired of his cotton-pickin-crap.