The Fat Lady Needs To Exit Stage Right, Now!


 

Over the past four years, I have lost 168 pounds and change. Yes, I feel better, have more energy, look better, and enjoy my grandchildren more. However there are a few drawbacks that never occurred to me before hand.

Skin. Losing weight, even as slowly as I have, leaves a lot of saggy, ugly, rumply skin. Bat wings for upper arms, skin that sags down from thighs to knees, and it just keeps on going long after I stop moving. Totally gross, totally embarrassing. And wrinkles are much more prominent too. I always had a smooth face, now I have wrinkles that I never had before. The upside is I look a lot thinner, the down side is learning a whole new way to apply makeup – when I bother that is.

Clothes. For years, like most fat women, I tried to hide my weight in baggy clothes, ugly dresses, and lots of jeans and t-shirts. Underwear was pretty much limited to grannie panties, and because I am rather well endowed up top, very boring super strong support white bras. Now, I nearly have a panic attack when I go into a store to buy clothes. I have gone from a size 28-30 in Women’s (that means fat lady clothes in girl code) to a size 14-16. But because I still have the well endowed parts to contend with, I get a larger size top. I don’t like tight clothing, it generally shows every lump and bump, cellulite, and muffin top on a fat lady. But, I find if I get looser clothes, they fall off me, which can be horribly humiliating if it happens in public. Oh, and shoes. Did you know that when you lose a lot of weight your shoe size gets smaller? Neither did I, but I have had to replace a large portion of my shoes lately. I’ve gone from a 8.5 Wide to a size 7 average. How freaky is that?

Temperature. I have long passed menopause, but temperature change really causes me issues. If it is cold, I freeze when the same temperature in my fat lady stage didn’t bother me at all, because I was always too warm. I forget about that and pay for it by shivering constantly. Wind also has an effect on me. I used to relish the cool wind, not so much now. Besides, I actually got pushed hard enough to almost fall the other day. I am so used to being sturdy enough to stand up to anything up to about 40 miles an hour winds. Now I just feel cold and like a wimp. Heat still makes me miserable. I hate hot and humid climates, but I don’t get miserable as fast as I used to, and can actually stand hotter weather than before.

Hair. I have always had rather thin hair. Now, because I am healthier, stronger, and I actually take my meds and vitamins every day, my hair is thicker. So I have had to learn to change my whole regime while washing my hair. It is hard to break a habit of over 30 years. I keep heading for my old shampoo and conditioner when I simply do not need that brand any longer. It is, well, annoying to have a routine totally changed.

Food. I didn’t have surgery to lose weight. I became very, very ill. Even the doctors didn’t think I would pull through. Fooled them. Wasn’t my time yet. Anyway, I used to crave sweets, sodas, carbohydrates, and fatty foods. I could eat a full meal at any restaurant in America. I was always hungry, and I used food as my drug of choice to cope with life. Now, food – eh – whatever. I don’t often eat every day, and I rarely have more than one meal a day. I make it a policy to eat only half of what is on my plate when we go out to dinner. Because half of a serving is a bit more than a serving for one person should be. The standard meal is FAR too much. At least it is using American sized servings.

Attitude and Mood Swings. I have never been so easily angered as I am now. Part of that is hormonal because everything is still out of whack. But a lot of it has to do with my attitude. While I have never been one to be a door mat, I would often allow my feelings about being fat make me want to stay in the background and unnoticed. Today, I am pretty much one of those old ladies who says what she thinks and devil take the hindmost. Whereas, I used to stay quiet, I am now more than willing to debate and do verbal battle with those who oppose my stance on everything from politics to dealing with bratty kids. So, on one hand, I am dealing with moodiness, and on the other I am dealing with trying to shut the hell up and stay out of trouble. Not doing too well on either issue.

The up side to weight loss is better health, the downside is that my entire lifestyle had to change and catch up with my body changes. I sometimes don’t recognize myself in the mirror. I sometimes think that I am fooling no one, and the fat lady still resides in my mirror and every one knows it but me. I sometimes feel overwhelmed with the way everything changed and continues to change as I keep losing weight.

I guess, because I can spot a phony a mile away, and because I don’t suffer fools gladly, that I tend to step back from every compliment. Like most fat ladies, people would compliment me on my eyes, color of my clothes, hair, but never say I was pretty. Now, folks do say I am pretty, but the fat lady hasn’t sung and exited stage right just yet. I really wish she would shut the hell up so I can get on with who I am becoming. Hateful cow.

“Inaction is not an excuse for failure to thrive.”


“Inaction is not an excuse for failure to thrive.”

I’ve noticed lately that a lot of people my age tend to simply stop. They stop doing fun things, they stop being involved, they stop thinking and growing intellectually. They just stop. Then they sit about and complain about how boring life is, how hard it is to do things they used to do, how much they wish they had done such and such before they got too old. They are failing to thrive in the late years of their lives. And there is no excuse for that- period.

I know, things are a bit harder to do when knees hurt,backs don’t want to bend, and the body gets tired much easier than it did at the age of forty. We all have to slow down,but that doesn’t mean we have to stop. It may take longer, but there is no reason not to at least try.

Years ago there was a movie entitled Cocoon followed by another, Cocoon Returns. If you haven’t seen them, I suggest watching them at least once. It starred a lot of “stars” who were getting quite elderly. All stuck in a nursing home, waiting to die, fussing at one another, etc. Until things change due to a visit from the aliens. Look, I know it is really a sappy story, but what I loved about it was the willingness of almost all of the elderly folks to embrace that which was different. If their youth didn’t return, their joy for life certainly did. And, at the end of the day, their inaction became action, and their lives infinitely better.

Another movie I loved was Driving Miss Daisy, a stellar performance by one and all. Again, another character that defies the tendency to just sit down and stop. Fried Green Tomatoes is a fantastic film. Kathy Bates and Jessica Tandy were great together and the flashback between Mary-Louise Parker and Mary Stuart Masterson is equally dynamic. At the end of the day, we are still not sure which woman Jessica Tandy was as the elderly friend of Kathy Bates. Ambiguity saturates the film, while turning Katy Bates’ character from a meek doormat into a woman filled with confidence. And, of course, the character played by Shirley Mclaine in Steel Magnolias is just like I want to be when I get old.

I see many older folks off and doing things all over the world. They travel, explore, serve missions of compassion – regardless of sore knees and aching backs. They move, act, and they live every minute of every day. That is what I want to do too.

When our youngest son went off to college, my husband and I decided to work our way around the world. Eight years later, we finally returned to the US. As we were raising our granddaughter, she went right along with us. We lived in London, Hong Kong, and New Zealand, and only came back to the US due to health issues and the awful Socialized Medical care in NZ. We traveled all over each region and were enriched many times over by our experiences.

But I was in my forty’s when we did that. Now I am sixty, and it is going to become more difficult to do some of the things we did. So, we chose other things to do so we could travel. A cruise or four, a road trip across the US, and our big adventure this year is to travel across country by train. I don’t hike for miles any longer, but I sure can sit and enjoy the view from the train.

So there is no excuse not to thrive, people. Just get up, take a few steps, find a hobby that fulfills you, volunteer as a surrogate grandmother to rock babies at the hospital. Volunteer at the schools or libraries to help kids with their reading skills. Go help out a nursing home if you have a talent like playing the piano. There are a multitude of things you can do to overcome the lack of inertia and sedentary inaction. For me, being with my grandchildren is one of my greatest motivators. I write, I hang out on social media sites, I keep up with friends and work on my family history, and I am planning on taking art lessons. I have always wanted to learn how to paint. That will be so much fun!

So, you are old, so what? Inaction is not an excuse for failure to thrive. Just because your body is starting to creak and moan, it doesn’t mean your brain isn’t functioning. (Unless you have a serious condition, of course.) With all the medical miracles out today, most of us will live well into our eighties or nineties.

I have a friend who is ninety-eight. For the several decades, she has traveled the world following the performances of the operas of Wagner. All on her own, she would jump on a plane and off she would go to Italy, France, Germany, or any place in the world that the operas were being performed. What an amazing lady

who just kept on going like an Eveready Battery. She is running down now, but she is still in control of her life and decided to go home until the end of her days. It is heartbreaking, but at the same time, what a life she has had! Even now, she keeps busy with doing her family history and chatting with her friends and family.

Even if you are homebound, unable to walk, unable to drive, so what? There are a million things you can do to keep your brain healthy and busy. Never just stop and wait to die. We all have a finite amount of time here in this life. I could spend it worrying about death, or I can just get on with living while I am still here.

The more we let inaction rule our lives, the less likely we are to live a long life. Not just because our bodies need to move to function well, but because our brains atrophy at an alarming rate. Inaction is not an excuse for failure to thrive. But it is only you that can take that first step. I can’t wait to become a feisty old woman who says exactly what she wants to say about everything.

Come on people, get up, find a cause, reason, purpose, or passion to fill your life. Go on!

 

Forever Young


On September 11, 2014, my first born will be 40 years old. For many people that requires a birthday party with black balloons and silly “Over The Hill” banners. It has been almost 19 years since he moved on, and still we miss him every day. But my son, you see, is forever young. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E6-AYce-_M

If he were here, physically, he would be a proud father of his baby girl, and an even more proud grandfather to her baby girl. He would hug his girl, and spoil her girl, and still be a strong man to lean on when they needed him the most.

I don’t know what he would be doing as a profession, but I know it would be something outdoors. He hated being cooped up inside, no matter the weather. If it was hot, he would be off somewhere playing or fishing in the water. If it was cold, he would get up to all manner of things that required slipping, sliding, and general mayhem, with a bit of danger mixed in for spice.

I don’t know what his political bent would be, but I expect it would be about as conservative and his parents and brother tend to be. I don’t know if he would be religious, but I know he would be spiritual. I don’t know if he would like all the modern gizmos and technology, but I know he could master all of them quickly. I don’t know what kind of vehicle he would drive, but I know he would own a Harley.

But, I don’t need to know, because my son, you see, is forever young.

He would still like boxing, and loud music. Music that ranged from classical to heavy metal met his approval. He would still like reading and learning on his own, in his own way. He would still love to sit and talk with the elderly and people who captured his interest. He would still love to tinker with motors, even if they frustrated him every time he worked on one. He would still love his family, his friends, and impress strangers with his knowledge about all sorts of things. He would still give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, and make sure that you had something to eat if you were hungry. He would still support the Viet Nam Veterans, and give them all the honor they deserve. He would still want to hang out with his brother, and probably torment him as only a big brother can. He would still be our Arron. Because he knew that growing up didn’t mean becoming someone else, it just meant being more who you are. He was philosophical that way.

He would still get into fist fights, but maybe not as much. He would still stand up for the underdog, but he might not lose his temper over misjustice so easily. He would still protect his mother, wife, daughter, niece, or any other female in his life, but he wouldn’t put up with drama trauma from any female. Like most guys, it either made him uncomfortable, annoyed, or confused. He would still love his beer on a hot day, and his whisky on a cold night, and he would still sneak bites of dinner as it is being cooked.

He would still like to go shirtless while working outdoors, and he would still wear those motorcycle boots, no matter how hot it was. He would still wear 501 button down Levi jeans, Harley shirts, and the occasional button down with the sleeves torn out of it. He would still have his silver front teeth instead of changing the caps out for something like everyone else. And he would still have long hair, a beard, and wear an ear ring, even though he knows it bugs me.

He would still have his cheeky, wicked grin that told me he was up to something he shouldn’t be. He would still make me laugh at his irreverent humor, tell me that I looked like a dumpling, and tease me about everything I do, just to get me riled. He would still walk to the beat of his own drummer, follow his dreams, and fly his kite just the way he wanted to.

Yes, he would do those things, and he probably is doing just that where he is. Because, you see, my son is forever twenty-one.

Happy Birthday Arron. Welcome to the old fart club. I love you. Mom.

Forever Young.  Arron Glen Combs  September 1974 - Jan 1996.
Forever Young. Arron Glen Combs September 1974 – Jan 1996.

 

Why Is It Number Four


Why is it, as soon as I put the hard top back on my car, the sun comes out?

Why is it, that having the top down makes me want to play my music really loud and drive really fast?

Why is it, that every time a young person sees me driving a sports car, they seemed shocked?

Why is it, when an old person sees me driving a sports car, they all look confused?

Why is it, when a person gets past 50, everyone expects them to slow down and be stodgy?

Why is it, that when a person gets past 50, every single working part of the body decides to retool and redefine their working order?

Why is it, that some women freak out and spend thousands on plastic surgery and products to look younger, when time will catch up eventually and they will look like freaks AND look old?

Why is it, that everyone is scared to death to be round? Round is a good shape. Comfy, and easy to maintain.

Why is it, women under 60 freak out about being a grandmother?

Why is it, that women under 60 come up with stupid names for their grandchildren to call them so they won’t be known as a grandmother? I mean, really, MoMo?

Why is it, getting old is a sinful thing instead of something we have earned?

Why is it, that the young never appreciate what we know and the wisdom we have to share until it is too late to make a difference in their lives?

Why is it, if a couple is out dancing and having fun, and they aren’t young, people think it is either sweet, cute, or disgusting?

Why is it, people stare if I hold my husband’s hand in public? It isn’t as if we are doing anything gross, like snogging.

Why is it, all little babies and toddlers know that I am a Nana? Hormones?

Why is it physically impossible to stop myself from cooing over little babies, snarling at kids between 8 and obnoxious, and loathing kids between oh, teenage and forever if they are impolite, gross, or disrespectful?

Why is it, no one offers to help mom’s who are struggling with kids in public instead of complaining and making rude remarks?

Why is it, the older I get, the more I love the old guy I married so many years ago?

Just asking.

That Bugs Me


For the past few weeks, I have seen a commercial on television, that, over time, has come to really annoy me on several levels. It is for the Xfinity programs on cable. In the commercial, a mid twentiesish guy is trying to move house. He calls up his friends, and one by one they either lie to him, ignore him, or simply tell him no when he asks for help. The only person who “helps” is the lady on Xfinity who sets him up with all he needs for his new place. Cable, Internet, etc. is easily moved for him. In the last scene, the guy is sitting all alone, in his new place, he (it is assumed) moved all his stuff into it by himself watching television. No friends in sight.

It bugs me because friends are supposed to help friends. I can’t count the number of times we helped people pack and move. We have hauled sofas that weighed more than a small car, furniture of all shapes and sizes, clothes, dishes, even pets. We moved people in everything from our small Datsun station wagon to huge moving trucks. We, ourselves, have moved so often over the past 40 years, that I am a master at packing and hauling stuff. Everyone pitched in to help as soon as the word went out that help was needed. Generally pizza or Chinese takeaway was provided for the friends and family who showed up and pitched in.

So, what the heck is wrong with those twenty-ish kids who won’t help their friend move? One is at the beach and pretending to be at the office. One is shopping and pretends to be sick. One is playing video games and doesn’t even answer the call, and one just flat out refuses to help. Talk about selfish and self centered! If all those people had jumped in, the moving process would probably have taken less than a day. (We all know that no one ever fully unpacks boxes, we have some that are still taped shut from our move from Hong Kong.) But these, kids just can’t be bothered.

It makes me crazy to see someone need help and no one steps up. When I took Hal to the Urgent Care clinic a few weeks ago, there was a woman in there with a child about three. He was miserably sick, and constantly whining. He wanted to be held, but only if his mom was standing up. He was breaking into a full blown hissy fit, when I finally stepped up and asked the frazzled and frustrated mom if she needed some help. Her jaw dropped, then she stepped back and said, “If you have a miracle, go ahead.” I put on my MOM HAS HAD ENOUGH face, crossed my arms, walked over to the boy and cleared my throat. When he was looking at me, all I said was his name. In a calm, but firm voice. The tears shut off, he ran behind his mother and grabbed her skirt. We heard him in the exam room later when he got a shot. But, for the meantime, he stopped, the mom was thankful, and I could hear myself think again. That mom needed HELP. She was exhausted, overwhelmed, and right at the end of her patience.

I don’t know if I am odd, or what, but I am always offering to help people. Most of the time, they thank me and tell me no, but sometimes they are very grateful someone noticed their need. I sure as heck don’t see that much in the younger set. If they won’t help their friends, they sure as heck won’t help a stranger. Although, having said that, I do live in the South, where manners are vital in social behavior. I am not above asking some tall kid to get something off a shelf for me in the grocery or in a store. And I always thank them.

Last weekend, Hal and I took Addie out for breakfast (becoming a tradition for us now that she is old enough). As I was leaving the restaurant, I fell. Hard. I no sooner hit the ground than I had three guys trying to help me up. Poor Hal had his arms full with Addie, and could only stand there. I was so shaken, that had folks not gathered up my glasses and handbag, I probably would have walked off without them. (I broke my right foot, banged up my bad knee, skinned up my forehead and elbow, and felt like a fool for falling.) After thanking them all, I made my way to the truck and managed to climb in. Some how, I don’t see folks jumping to help others in big cities. They all just whip out their cell phones and start taking photos or filming. I guess people are used to viewing life through a screen. And that really bugs me.

So, I am going to write a letter to Xfinity and tell them they would do people a service by showing everyone agreeing to help the guy move. And to be honest that the darned service guy will be there sometime between Monday and Friday between the hours of nine a.m. and four p.m. Because that bugs me too.

Taking A Break


I have recently taken a break from most of my most politically, socially, and emotionally liberal friends. Some of whom, I have known for over forty years. I am not angry with them, I do not hate them, I don’t think of them as less important or valuable as I am, or anyone else for that matter. I am just tired of dealing with people, though I love them, who are so narrow minded, judgmental, and so caught up in their self serving lives that they cannot, or will not, take the time to learn to be truly accepting people. Accepting, that is, of others who do not profess the same agenda, live the same life style, agree with the same issues, and walk, talk, and do just as they do. I am too old to deal with group speak, group mentality, and group non thinking. I miss the individual thinkers that they used to be.

Political correctness has taken over the minds of so many of my brilliant friends. Highly talented, intelligent, and, previously, interesting people to the last one, they have become mind numbed robots of the politically correct, or they have taken a path that allowed them to steep themselves in unending self victimization as an excuse to be angry at everyone not exactly like them. The odd thing is, they profess, profusely, profanely, and with great pontification that they are accepting of everyone. Of course, they don’t say, “As long as they believe exactly as I do.” We see this playing out on the stage of world politics every day. It has, sadly, trickled down into every day life for many people.

I am reminded of the opening scene in the movie, Joe VS The Volcano where hundreds of men and women walk in near lockstep into a factory of some sort. In the center of the concrete slab that is the outdoors, one single flower grows regardless of the fact that it shouldn’t be able to do so. It gets stepped on, ignored, pulled up, but it still managed to grow and make a single bright spot in the middle of the gray concrete. Not one person notices, except for a man who is miserable with his boring, repetitive life. He notices, and that leads to a whole new life of adventure.

Many of my friends of old, have become those boring people who do the same things day after day They only read the socially approved books, watch the popular movies, listen to the music that is most acceptable by their peers, and never, ever, think for themselves. It seems like they have given up on growing intellectually. Why read history, why bother with anything that you can’t find on the Internet with the newest electronic gadget? Just go with the flow, and accept that you are happy just the way you are.

There is one particular person, that we love very much, and always will. He lives in one of the most sophisticated cities in the world. However, at pushing sixty, he has never lived anywhere else other than to attend college. He lives in the family home, and he is doing exactly the same things he was doing at the age of 25. His life is a world more based in fantasy than in reality. Don’t get me wrong, he makes a good living, and is successful in myriad ways, but his entire life outside of work is caught up in fantasy characters and play. Not on line, oh no, in real life. Yeah, he is the guy wearing the clothes that always look like a costume of one sort or another. Last week he was Sherlock Holmes every time he went out the door. He has a vastly busy social life, on and off line. (But seriously, can one really have 2000 “friends:?) He has a successful marriage, to an equally fantastical woman, but I really don’t think he has a friend he can just sit down and talk with – as himself, bumps, warts, and all. He hides behind that personae and crazy, frenetic activity that is his life. Consequently, he sees anyone who is practical and based in reality as someone who is completely out of touch with the ‘right’ way to live. As a liberal person living in a very liberal city, he has abdicated common sense and turned over his thinking to big brother and others who bother with that sort of thing. Go with the flow, man, go with the flow. Even if it does rip away all his rights eventually. That liberal river is one mean mother when she overflows and takes rights away in a flood of laws and regulations.

On the other hand, I have friends who live such supercilious, fake lives that they think they are living in a movie, and they have the staring role. It is all about cars, houses, clothes, money, gizmos, and doodads. The women get hooked on shoes and the men get hooked on, well whatever they can get away with, be it golf or women. They are like one of those French pastries that looks delicious on the outside, but they are all hollow inside. Under all the chatter and silliness, there is a cut throat competition that would make the Hatfield and McCoy feud look like a tea party. Many of the men in this group are business men. It is all about screwing over the competition so they can feel manly. For the women, it is all about looks and having more than the wife, or girlfriend, or lover of their significant other’s competition. I really, don’t get it. These people can look at a diamond and tell you exactly the karat, cut, and value of it in a glance, but mention something like, oh, Benghazi, and they look at you like you just passed gas at a formal dinner party. They know all the trendiest spas, trainers, cars, places, and things, but rarely have an original thought – and if they do, it scares them to death. The women copy each other, the men steal ideas from each other. They bore me to death. Really, I would rather walk on rocks than go shopping all day, (Bookstores are an exception, but I only shop there on my own.) or spend my time trying to out do everyone around me. Too much work, too little return.

Then there are all my LGBT friends. Yes, I have more than a token one or two. You can’t be in my field of employment without knowing many. I have a few, very few, friends in this group who are as conservative as I am, that just get on with their lives. They honestly do not care one bit who anyone sleeps with, loves, or cohabits with. They are who they are, and being LGBT is not a big deal. They are accepted professionally, socially, and politically – and yes, religiously within their group of friends, family, and community. However, sigh, there is the group of friends who are LGBT first and foremost. They are angry, strident, bigoted, and racist toward anyone who does not bow down to the god of rainbow flags and their sacred fight to be “Just Like Everyone Else.” If you do not agree with everything they do, say, and believe, then you are branded as a hater. Ironic, since they are the people hating to begin with. No matter how often I tell them I don’t care who they sleep with as long as I don’t have to be a party to it, they still think I am a homophobe. I have just thrown up my hands and decided they are all insane and need a time out for anger management. Thinking for themselves is anathema to these people. Just get on the band wagon, in the parade, or carry the rainbow flag and scream about how much everyone hates them already. Oy, can we say self fulfilling prophesy? If you treat everyone as if they hate you just because they think or believe differently, they they just may start walking away in droves. OH, and the LGBT group is evenly sprinkled with fairy dust and delusional beliefs in the first two groups as well. Professional victims still, but vacuous victims.

I have a boat load of friends who are living in the fly over country in middle America. The majority are parents, hard workers who know how to enjoy their down time. Some are city dwellers, some live out beyond the back forty. Some love to travel, some won’t leave their home county, let alone their home state. Some are professional people, from judges to teachers and then some. More are blue collar workers of one sort or another, and another bunch are farmers and ranchers. There are a few things they have in common. They believe in Family First, and included in that is the extended family of friends and neighbors. They tend to be religious, not necessarily church going, but religious. They believe in the greatness of the United States (even those in the south who still lament the late Northern Aggression, aka Civil War.) and they stand firmly for the Constitution and values upon which this country was founded. Best of all, they are independent thinkers, and they understand that history repeats itself if humanity doesn’t protect its freedom from tyranny. Most of them have either served in the military or come from a family that has served. They are patriots.

That’s not to say that middle America folks aren’t selfish and self absorbed. They can be, and some are as vain and supercilious as anyone else. But, at the end of the day, they are less focused on themselves, and more focused on the world around them, and the world far away.

There is something so fun about engaging in a debate with thinking people. Even if we are complete opposites on everything, thinking people take the time to listen and think before spouting the current propaganda and talking points of the day. Like me, these good folks don’t give a flip about who you love, sleep with, or how you live – you are defined by your behavior and how you treat others. What they do care about is the individual, not the lemming behavior of the group. Everyone has incredible potential, and the greatest gift everyone has is the ability to learn, think, and make up their own minds about who they are and what they think. I may not agree with the things they do, or how they think, but it is their right, and they know the consequences of their behavior. The great thing, is we can disagree vehemently and still be friends – not thinking any less of each other or throwing about invectives concerning hate.

So, this self imposed distance from my knee jerk, emotional, lock step, group think, self absorbed liberal friends has done two thing. It made me realize that I bought into their arrogant belief that I simply could not be as good as they are because I am an ignorant hick from Oklahoma, and it made me aware that they are so bogus in that arrogance. They may think they are all that, but deep inside there is a huge hole of discontent and fear. Hiding behind pretend personae and victimization isn’t going to improve anyone’s life. Suck it up people, and learn to think for yourselves. Yes, you might lose a few of those so called friends, but if speaking your mind offends them so much, then they aren’t really your friends.

It took me years to realize no one has the right to tell me to sit down and shut up. No one has the right to tell me how to think. And, best of all, that I am intelligent, well educated, caring, accepting, and willing to lend a helping hand or listening ear. I am not perfect, liberal whiners and moaners annoy me and I loathe the political leaders who are trying to destroy our country. But, at least I am honest with myself and others, and I am not afraid to take a stand and state my thoughts on any topic.

So, my distant liberal friends, I recommend that before having a knee jerk emotional response to every little thing in life, take a deep breath, step back, and think before babbling nonsense. If you don’t know the truth, find out. If you don’t understand, learn. If you are afraid, learn to stand firm even in the face of adversity. Because until you do, my dear liberal friends, you will never be truly happy, content, or who were intended to be.

Israel and America


1jewishI am not Jewish, although there are many in my family history. I am a Mormon, and that means, even to the LDS haters, that I am a Christian. HOWEVER, I am pro Israel, and I am appalled at the behavior of the people in political power here in the US. If you have ever needed proof that the man elected president of this great nation is anti Jewish and pro muslim, this might make you reflect a bit on that very FACT.

My opinion is this: The Jewish State of Israel, from it’s resurrection after WWII, has been an American ally, backing us in the UN, and on many other political fields, throughout the years. They took a barren, neglected, filthy area in the Middle East and turned it into a veritable paradise. No one wanted the area called Israel. There were no Palestinians, because there has never been a country called Palestine. The name comes from the Crusaders, whose very purpose was to decimate the Arabs in the region in the name of Christ. It didn’t work out well for the Crusaders.

The land called Israel is the traditional home of those who profess to be of the religion of Israel, son of Abraham. Now I am not a Jewish scholar, so correct me if I am wrong, but in the great diaspora of the Jewish people, they were torn from their homeland and made slaves to others all over the known world. And always, when things were bad in a country, the Jews were blamed, killed, removed, denied rights, and often torn from their families, never to be seen again. This, of course, cumulated in the horrors of the concentration camps of Nazi Germany in WWII. Now, after generations of being torn from their homeland, they are back and rebuilding all that they lost. Or trying to.

Flash forward to now. The allies who traditionally stood behind them. The United States of America, The United Kingdom, and others are no longer making a strong stand in their defense as the Muslim Arabic countries do their best to deny the Jewish people their homeland. Each day there are news articles about the hatred toward Israel and the Jews who live there. Here are a few, just from today, 17 December 2012:
http://www.theblaze.com/stories/did-you-know-about-the-surprising-views-on-israel-of-obamas-likely-pick-for-secretary-of-defense/

http://www.weeklystandard.com/blogs/iranian-state-press-praises-likely-obama-defense-nominee-anti-israel_689884.html

http://www.theblaze.com/stories/radical-jordanian-cleric-warns-israel-allah-willing-first-we-take-damascus-then-tel-aviv/

And the sad fact is that two of those stories show, quite clearly, that the man in the white house does not like the state of Israel or its people.

Now, I have a question. Why, knowing how much the administration dislikes Israel and the Jewish people, did so many of them vote for him, TWICE? This is something I simply cannot understand. It is clear that if he had his way, Israel would simply disappear. So why keep putting him back in office?

So, people, unless you want to see another war in which an entire race of people is killed because of their belief, their hard work, their intelligence, their abilibty to turn a desert into a paradise, their willingness to overcome horrific adversaries to worship as they may, or not, and their deep inner knowledge that Isreal is their HOMELAND, it is time to stand up and support the state of Israel.

It is Christmas, damn it!


So, here we are again at that time of year when we are supposed to be filled with love, peace, and harmony – celebrating the birth of one of the best loved men in the world and beyond. Right. Sure. At least that is how it was when I was a kid, and when my children were small. Not today.

Today we have the progressive left, atheists, and general whiners and moaners who try to stand in the way of Christians celebrating one of their most important HOLY DAYS. Christmas, people, is a Holy Day for Christians. Yes, I know, it is also the celebration of Hanukkah for the Jewish people. It is also the winter festival for tree huggers, pagans, and people who like to dance naked around a bonfire. Fine, wonderful for them too! A Holy Day that is sacred to so many is something to enjoy.

Not Christians, however. We aren’t supposed to be allowed to have a Holy Day. No celebrating in our traditional ways that have come from all corners of the world along with early immigrants. Nope, not according to atheists, who worship non religion more fervently than most people who profess to be religious – no matter their faith. No celebration for Christians according to the progressive left, because someone, (THEM), just might be offended by the American traditions of celebrating a religions HOLY DAY.

However, having a secular day of celebration with Santa Claus and presents is fine. But no Christmas tree, it must be called, instead, a holiday tree. Holiday tree? But that has the words HOLY DAY in it, and therefore can be construed as religious. Still, those that hate Christians can go with the holiday theme, as long as it stays secular.

If a town has traditionally put up a manger with Joseph and Mary, and the usual cast from the story of the birth of Jesus found in the New Testament, in the book of Luke, the secular anti Christian people have a tantrum, file law suits, and insist that it be removed because it might be insulting to some. Yet, no one complains about a menorah, being placed in the town center, or pagans doing their dances, or Muslims, Hindus, or Buddhists doing what ever it is they do for this season. So why the war on Christians?

The Constitution says nothing about separation of Church and State only that there will be no state religion. Try telling that to an atheist or secular progressive wonk. American was founded by Christians. It was settled by Christians. The very fiber of America comes from a solid base in law and morals of Christianity. Granted, the Indians were here first. But even they had strong religious beliefs that often mesh with Judeo-Christian philosophies. But there is still a war on Christians.

It is bad to be religious, it is bad to have our beliefs displayed by having a Christmas Tree, bright lights, candy canes, gifts for our loved ones, and a feast to remind us all of the feast of words from the Scriptures. But, you see, for Christians, it is what we do to celebrate our Holy Day. So, we are under siege to forget our traditions, forget our religion, forget the meaning behind all we do at this time of year, and simply go with the Santa Claus theme.

Sorry, folks, but in my house, it is CHRISTMAS, damn it. And that is what it will always be. If you don’t want to be part of the Holy Day as we celebrate it, more power to you. Don’t celebrate as I do, do your own thing, or not, as you choose. However, I have the same right to do as I wish.

Without Christians, and Christmas, there probably wouldn’t even BE a holiday this time of year across the world. December 25th would be just another dreary winter day, or summer day if you live at the bottom of the world, without meaning or great value. Now wouldn’t that be miserable? Instead the world has the joy of Christmas, (or secular holiday), to lighten our lives for a few minutes.
It used to be that Christmas was just a simple day of prayer and worship for Christians. Then the pagan feasting and other traditions were added, followed by gift giving, Christmas trees from Germany, and Sinter Klaus from Holland, nativities from Italy, songs from all over the world, right up to modern lights and decorations. But, at the end of the day, it is still a day for prayer and worship, and remembrance of the baby that was born who changed the world – and died for our sins.

It is CHRISTMAS, a time to count our blessings, love one another, forgive one another, and let one another celebrate as their beliefs dictate. May God Bless and Keep you, each and every one. Because it is CHRISTMAS, damn it!

Sometimes, women really tick me off.


Today, my husband told me about an exchange he had on his social media site. It was with an obviously very uninformed woman. She posted a photo of a person holding a sign insisting that incoming Freshmen boys have a mandatory course on not raping women. It should be what all Feminists would want. What?

First of all, sexual assault is a horrific act of violence, and I think men or women who do that sort of thing should be de-sexed and put on death row, especially if it involves children. So put that in the back of your brain for a moment.

Having said that, nothing annoys me more than a helpless woman. Suck it up sister, and get some training on how to protect YOURSELF. If a woman is a true feminist, then her whole mantra for the past 30 odd years is, EQUALITY. But, you say, men are stronger than women. True, so you equal things up by learning self defense, or better yet, carry a gun and shoot the jerk. You don’t have to kill him to stop him, just take out his knees or put a bullet center mass.

In a pinch, almost anything can be used as a weapon, including your own body, the nearest rock, sand, dirt, alarm clock, dish, shoe, or even liquid. Get off your princess cushion and be a real woman who CAN take care of herself instead of waiting to be rescued like some wimp.

By the time a woman is off to university, she should be smart enough and trained enough to know better than to do certain things. Don’t go out alone. Don’t get so drunk you don’t know what you are doing or who you are with. Don’t dress like a street walker and rub up against men (or women if you are that way inclined) and tease them with sex. Don’t dance with someone and hint that you want more than a dance if you aren’t going to follow through. There are names for girls like that, and they aren’t kind at all. Don’t walk places in the dark that are dangerous. If you are afraid, or untrained, get campus security to walk you home or to your car, it is their job to do so. Don’t expect some randy boy who thinks more with his nether regions than his brain to keep you safe, or to keep his hands off you if you so much as touch him. Flirt and you get what you ask for.

OK, you say, well boys need to be taught to be in control. Excuse me, woman, but if that young man hasn’t been taught by his parents how to treat a girl with respect by the time he is off to university, it is FAR too late. Some wimpy two hour class on how not to be a date rapist or stalker isn’t going to make a difference. Besides, most girls know by the age of 12 that they control the guys around them by the way they act toward them. If you don’t, then you are far too immature to even be out of the house on your own, let alone at college.

I can hear all you anti male feminists gasping in outrage from here. Get over yourselves. You want equality, you got equality. Deal with it and stop trying to play at being both an independent feminist woman and a helpless little princess. Either you learn to take care of yourself, or you learn to be weak and dependent on others. There is no way in hades I am going to allow myself to be weak and at the mercy of others.

True story. When I was seven months pregnant with my first child, we were living in rural Oklahoma. I came home one day to find my house being burgled. I slipped in the back door, grabbed our hand gun, and walked into the living room. They took one look at my gun, another at my belly, and thought I would be an easy mark. I wasn’t. They ran like hell when I pointed the gun at them. They also had four very large bullet holes in the back of their van. Made it easy for the cops to find them. Fortunately, they hadn’t had time to actually put anything in their van. But they had made a huge mess of my house. I protected myself, my child, and my home. I would do it again today. There is a reason why I have a carry permit and keep a gun near or on me at all times.

It is NOT the university’s responsibility to train boys about sexual assault. It is the responsibility of the individual female to know how to take care of herself if she finds herself in a bad situation. But, you say, what about being kidnapped or given date rape drugs? Back to the rules, don’t go anywhere alone. Guard your drinks, and if you get off the dance floor, get a fresh drink – don’t drink from the old one unless someone has been keeping an eye on it. Don’t go home with a stranger, or allow him to take you home. Girls watch out for each other, and that means keeping each other from doing stupid things. Stop getting stinking drunk and making yourself a mark. It is up to YOU to do what you need to do to be safe. And stop blaming guys for everything when you don’t do the basics to take care of yourself.

To be clear, I think feminism is a joke. All blather and screaming and no substance. Because when things get difficult, they always return to the same crap. I am woman, hear me roar, but I am helpless in the face of men, so protect me. Gag a maggot, grow up and be responsible for your own safety.

Election Season


I am, unashamedly, an American Patriot. As such, I tend to lean to the right on most issues. Although I am an independent, it is the right side of the political spectrum that most closely matches with my personal understanding of what our Constitution, History, and purpose as a country mean. This particular election ‘season’ is filled with frustration for me and most people I know.

First of all, I have no respect for the man in the White House. I believe him to be a liar, anti-business, anti-constitution, anti-military, and anti-American. The man has not followed through on anything he ‘promised’ when he was elected four years ago. He has only thrown our country into further financial difficulties, embarrassed his office in the world arena, and made the United States look weak to our enemies. Not to mention he is friends with some of the biggest criminals and terrorists worldwide. In short, I loathe the man, so much so that I refuse to use his name.

On the other side of the election is Mr. Romney. Despite all the press digging to find dirt on him, Mr. Romney is proving to be an honest, decent, patriotic, and intelligent man who deeply cares for our country. I don’t care what his religion is, I do care if he can fix the financial mess we have before us, and if he is willing to protect the constitution of the United States of America. I do care that he is pro-life, and I do care that he has been faithfully married to his wife for over 30 years. I care that he understands how hard it is to be a parent, I do care that he is pro-second amendment, I do care that he will appreciate every single man or woman serving in our military and the service that they provide the country. And, I do care that he is a man who will stand by his principles, fulfill every promise he makes, work with both sides of the congress, that he has integrity, honesty, and humility.

This election has caused more divisiveness between myself and my friends than any other in my adult life. I am not quiet about how I feel about that man in the White House. My liberal and progressive friends are not happy about that. In fact, two of my oldest and dearest friends are no longer on my social network. Mainly because I got tired of all of the victim nonsense that most liberals spout. I also got tired of trying to explain things like finances, spending, honesty, and integrity. It hurts to cut them off, but it is either that or stay frustrated and upset every day.

I suppose I could try to let them whine and moan, and just keep my mouth shut, but to do that I would have to deny that which I know is true. Lying by omission is as great a sin as outright lying on purpose. I can’t do that. Not for long anyway. Eventually I would end up spouting my opinion and the whole thing would start all over again. It is very frustrating. And the choice was heart rending. The saddest part of all is that my progressive and liberal friends will never understand why I felt pushed into making this decision. Will we be friends again, maybe. But it won’t be the same because now I don’t really trust them and I don’t think that they will forgive me for being so daring as to delete them from my social network world.

So, here I sit, two of my oldest friends out of my daily life. It is depressing, but also empowering. Depressing because I will miss them, empowering because I stood my ground and made a difficult decision to protect my mental health. Sigh . . . sometimes I hate being a grown up with integrity.