Now Have I Got This Straight?

     OK, so Medicaid may or may not expand.  There will be a tax for individuals and businesses.  People will be forced to get insured or be fined.

     People like my son who are working off and on, can barely get by and pay their car insurance or cell phone bill, will not have to get insurance or be fined, but they will not get Medicaid, so for America's working childless poor and for parents who are poor, what has changed?  Nothing.  

     I think what will change is that there will be inflation.  Those who have businesses to run and who have enough income to be paying this tax, even if they can easily pay it, will be charging more.  Rents will go up for example, because land owners and multi-home owners will be paying more taxes.  I do not mean to sound like a Republican, because that is not my political stand, but realistically I do not see anything different about this.

     I would however like to see if those who could have afforded insurance before if not for the expensive things they bought, will in fact buy insurance or be fined.  They will most likely still complain about it, so what is the difference there?  I know it sounds general, but some people are like this, one or two to think of.

     I think President Obama originally wanted people like his mother who had ovarian cancer, to not be denied for a preexisting condition.  If this is the case now, then let us give thanks for one small miracle for them.

     I still cannot help but think it might be an infringement on civil liberty.  But, states have more rights than people think since the states created America really and not the reverse.  That is why it is The United States or simply The States.

My Views on Obamacare

     Although I am considered by some to be a reactionary to use an old fashioned term,   believe it or not, although I watch all news sources to get every view from every bias, Fox News is telling some pros of the new health care law.  By the way, I am from a family of Democrats, but I happen to have a mind of my own.
     Fortunately I have a friend who is an attorney and politician of my state, and I am getting better informed by him, and he is a Democrat.
     No one really knows for sure right now how Obamacare will work out.  I was very out of touch with politics for a long time when I was married and having babies although I always voted Democrat and always voted for president, and although I voted for Bill Clinton, that Medicaid expanded for children in the '90's, I did not know until it effected me personally.  This effected me, because I became a single parent in the '90's, and when I went to register my little boy for school it turned out that even though back then I was working, my low income and being a single parent qualified my children for Medicaid.  Also, thanks to Ronald Reagan, there was an earned income credit for single parents on tax returns.  This was extremely helpful in terms of getting a good tax return.  These are bipartisan assets that unless you have been a parent, especially a single one, may not be aware of.  Also, in '89 when my second son was born under the obstacle of complications, and our having no insurance and not as much money as I thought my ex-husband was earning, we qualified for Medicaid for our second son to be born safely with the complications present.
     I think it will all be good for everyone eventually I hope.  I do think, and not because it is my personal hope, that it may be hard for Obama to be re-elected with the fears many Americans are having.
     I know people who could have afforded insurance but spent the money on other things, and I think they thought they were going to get a free ride at the expense of the truly poor, but no such luck for them.  Those are the whiners, and now that they will be required to purchase insurance, I hope this will shut them up.  They will also be taxed as well.
     I am glad that people with a preexisting condition, especially children with cancer as well as adults with cancer or other serious conditions, will be able to get health care now.  
     
               

Stop With the Hate

     I am sorry that antisemitism is so prevalent among the left wing liberals
I do understand being pro-Palestinian, but 
that does not mean it has to be taken to the
point of constantly putting down Jews.
     Someone posted a very antisemitic video
that was so offensive, I had to delete it.  It

sickens me the hatred being expressed towards a group of people because of one's views on the Middle East.

     Jews fought and died for Germany in WWI.  Does anyone ever think of that?  Now there are practically no Jews left in Germany.

     I read a book called, My Journey Through the Nazi Holocaust, an Unbroken Chain.  It was a true memoir of a Jewish survivor of Auschwitz.  I cried at the end when the Americans came and the Red Cross, because those remaining collapsed after pretending not to be sick, so they could work and not be shot or gassed to death or whatever other sick way to be killed.  He said "the last thing I remember was an African American soldier smiling at me."  The African Americans though very segregated in the army then, still fought for America.  I stand up for all downtrodden people, whether they be Native American, Palestinian, Jewish, etc..  That is why I hate the drones.

     In Gandhi's favorite song, Sita Ram, it says in Hindi, "King Ram, the descendant of King Ragu and the husband of Sita is the Savior of the Downtrodden..."  Then it goes on to say the Muslim part, for Ghandi wanted to bring the two fighting religions together, as Meher Baba said, like "beads on a string."
     Also, although the Jews and Muslim are always fighting, both have the same laws about food cleanliness.  In fact Muslims in America often eat kosher, because their food is unavailable to some extent and kosher is the same.  Also circumcision of the males is done by both religions according to belief system.  No comment on the subject, just a fact.  

More Politically Correct or Incorrect, Psych!!!!!

     I realize that some of my opinions about things come across as conventional and conservative.  I keep reminding everyone that I am a Democrat and have liberal views when it comes to taxes, entitlement, the rich and the poor.
      I am liberal about gay rights and gay marriage.  Even though I am pro-life, I still believe that there should be choice of course.  Believing in something as more moral and ethical does not always mean that it applies to what you think others should do.  As far as sexuality, I do not think that has anything to do with morals.  Who you love is not a choice.  Everyone has latent homosexual tendencies, only women find them easier to express especially under the influence of alcohol, because women are more nurturing I guess, not sure.  Most women I know have hit on a woman at one time or another, but that would be silly to think it meant one was gay.
     I feel like about so many things I rain on everybody's liberal parade, and that is the weird part.  Although I wrote an article that was a bit daring, a fb friend shared it and a couple of people said nice things, yesterday I wrote a great article called 'Politically Correct.'  The only person who commented was a stranger and fellow blogger, but none of my fb friends commented.  He said, "thank you for standing tall.  You are not alone."  I said "thank you," and joined one of his blogs.
     It is true that my state is kind of conservative.  In fact on SNL, they were making fun as always saying, "only people from South Carolina like Newt Gingrich," which is true and funny.  In fact I had to go to North Carolina to canvas for Obama with my mother.  North Carolina tends to go blue and South Carolina red, so they did not even try in South Carolina.  When I was at the Commission for the Blind, I was like the only white person who voted for Obama except for one twenty-one year old hippy girl who worked as a driver, driving consumers back and forth from home to there.
     So, what else can I say?  I wish I fit in better in the world.  I sure do not fit in with rich people, lol.  It really is not lol.  People really overuse that lol thing.  I was reading reviews shopping on line, and one kept saying that and I figured she was drunk or high, so I was going to stop doing that and just say, kidding or psych!!!!  That's what my kids used to say when they were pulling my leg.  

Looking for Purpose

     I spent a lot of time redesigning my blog, and got a bit obsessive about it.  It must be something astrological in the air.  I do not know.  
     I feel like change is difficult and yet inevitable.  I keep trying to make life meaningful, but that may not be something in my power or maybe life just is meaningful whether or not I try to make it so.
     I was trying to make it easier on the eyes and make the letters contrast, using advanced templates.  I used to have an old desk top.  Still do, but my son will not let us get rid of it.  I realize all my old computers have writing and pictures, but I am not computer savvy enough to know how to transfer from one to another.  
     Originally my brother designed my New Humanity Blog, and signed me up for fb, but I could not use either until I got a laptop, the first of which was given to me, a hand me down, but then the inner battery died, so my brother in law fixed it.  I gave that one to Ted, my son, because all he had was a '90's laptop from his stepmother that was incredibly slow.  My mother bought me my Toshiba at Walmart.  I chose an inexpensive one, but as long as the magnifier works it is fine.
     Then I made 'Sage Words', and eventually rediscovered 'The New Humanity', my initial blog.  My brother's blog is 'Meher Baba's Words' I think.
     Now I know how to design blogs, and it is fun, but challenging I find, because it is hard to make the letter contrast right and to make it easy to read.

Politically Correct

     I get scorned a lot on fb for making remarks that are the slightest bit, I can only say not totally "left wing liberal".  Please do not be offended if you are a liberal reading this, because I am too for the most part.
     Example: 1. I have been scrutinized for saying some pro-life comments, 2. I have been called naive for saying in a comment thread on fb about Walmart that I like Walmart, the big satan or whatever, because, A. my mother worked there, B. they employ the disabled and elderly and a lot of other people, C. they take back merchandise very agreeably, D. I do not get to go there very often, one of the things the consumers at the Commission for the Blind looked forward to, and E. their stocks never fell in the Wall Street crash of 2008, and 3. I had considered not voting for Obama again, but have changed my mind about that after making a truly educated decision.  The important thing is to get out and exercise the right to vote.  As Parnell Diggs, the blind attorney who ran for congress says, "it shouldn't be easier to get into a bar than getting into a voting booth."
     Now, as far as being liberal, I am against the war, but believe in being strong on terrorism.  I believe in entitlements.  Another quote from Diggs, "you see, blind people already qualify for a government check."  I believe in job creation and economy stimulus, not in budget cuts and tax cuts for the very rich.  I believe in tax cuts for small businesses.  I believe that Social Security, Medicare as well as need based programs such as SSI and Medicaid must stay in place. For the elderly, disabled, impoverished and children this is a matter of life and death.
     The ultra-liberals do not like me because I believe that businesses help the economy. 
     I do not like the overuse of abortions, but I do believe that Roe vs Wade should not be overturned.  However I think partial birth abortion should be illegal in all states except in the case of life of the mother.  They are horrible to even think about, cruel, inhumane and violent.  People seem to think that women's rights make a human fully developed fetus's rights unimportant.  There is no humanity in that.  Look, I am a woman too, as well as a mother.  
     I do not agree with the war or like the actions of the U.S. in some respects, but still believe in honoring my country and supporting our troops and respecting the president no matter who he is or whether or not I agree with all his policies.
    That is as long as we do not have Adolf Hitler for president, although some Americans make crazy comparisons that are unwarranted and silly.
     Now, if I have offended anyone for any reason, I am sorry but that is not my aim to have everyone agree with me, because everyone has a right to their belief system.  That is the beauty of this great nation.
     Lastly, I hope I am not developing delusions of grandeur, but I would like to be in politics.  I would like to be the governor of my state.  Just kidding.

Growing up in the Age of TV

    I know many people are anti-television.  When we were kids, my brother and I watched a lot of TV.  When we got home on the school bus, we watched Lassy, Gilligan's Isle, I Dream of Jeanie, and at night The Beverly Hill Billies and of course Saturday morning cartoons and on Friday nights when I had sleep overs with my two girlfriends, The Brady Bunch and The Partridge.  My girlfriends and I had a serious David Cassidy crush.
     I knew that when people came over my parents made us turn the TV off.  I did not remember why, but after supper when the grown ups were still at the table talking and we were finished eating and clearing our plates, my brother would slowly close the door to the living room saying, "elevator door is closing.  Elevator door is closing..."  I did not know that the reason he was closing the door slowly and I would get in there before it closed was because he did not want Dad to hear the door creaking, because he did not want us watching television.  I just thought he was being funny.
     Dad did not like us sleeping late either.  He was like, "you are sleeping your life away.  The sun is shining.  You need to get up..."
     Then on Sunday nights, we would beg to stay up to watch Night Gallery which ended at 10PM, past bedtime on a school night.  Then I could not sleep because it was scary.  The show the whole family liked was Kung Fu with David Karideen.  I guess they thought it was spiritual and zen.
     Remember the monk teacher with the white eyes, "Grasshopper, you must always expect the snake to strike...  for evil must always be defeated by the strength of your will..."  Just improvising here. 
     Then we had to go to programs at the Baba Center.  I hate to say it but even children know bad poetry when they hear it like, "I long to be at the end of the rainbow where your ruby lips and your golden eyelashes."  You had to hold your breath to keep from laughing.
      Yeah, those were the days.  It is fun to talk about those times with my brother and reminisce.  
      The funny thing is I have a black and white photograph in one of my albums of my dad sitting on the floor close to the TV watching Star Trek, because he actually watched TV.  He could see the television before he went totally blind.
Mostly though he watched the 6:30 news.

Debating

     To some degree I like debating.  I like it to go on for a while, but then eventually I like to drop it, because I know we might never come to an agreement.  I like many people who have some very different points of view from me, because they are respectful to me about mine, and that includes all of you.
     Some people, one I know in particular who I used to go out with, do not want to let you say anything.  They just want you to listen to them.  He was an extreme conservative, and I am a moderate liberal or what you might call a conservative Democrat, but I could not get a word in.  Then he would make comments that I felt were racist, and I called him on it, which only further infuriated him, because he said he was not a racist, since he does not say epitaphs.  Well, epitaphs are bad, but you do not have to say them to be a racist.  I was sort of shocked though when he told me that his children who are German and live in Germany thought it was OK to use the "n" word because they heard it in school, and he told them not to.  I thought Germans were really loving, liberal and progressive now after WWII.  Maybe I was misinformed, but I do know that Germany and France were not in favor of Occupation Iraqi Freedom.  In fact I do not think Tony Blaire was too keen on it for that matter.  I think our former administration went against the United Nations on that one, I am afraid.  
     I voted for President Obama and will again, but I have some views that are slightly conservative, but not as conservative as say Sarah Palin who is a little over the top I think, not that she is a bad person, woman or mother.  My hat is off to her for having a child with down syndrome.  At least you can say she walks the walk.
     A few months ago I got attacked on fb for saying a few pro-life comments.  It was not that I was against choice or thought abortion should be illegal, it was just not liking the overuse of it, and especially the late ones are pretty horrible to even imagine.  I actually think those should be illegal, because at a certain point a fetus can live outside the mother, and they are very violent and cruel I think to the unborn child.   So, I think that is just wrong.  I do not apologize for that.  I was very respectful though, in what I said.  I said that I believed in choice, that it was a personal matter, but that I myself was more pro-life in sentiment.  Of course I do not think someone should have to have a child of rape or incest or if something was wrong with the child which would make what is called a 'wrongful birth' case like in Jodi Picouldt's novel, Handle With Care, the first book I read by her, and I think her best work, very sad like many of her books, but so well written with a unique style.  I can recognize her style listening on talking books before even reading the author.  Life of the mother is another exceptional case.
     When I made a comment that had pro-life overtones, I was called all kinds of things, told I was for war..., that I was "one of those conservatives who believe in killing babies in the war."  One person told me I should "adopt crack babies".  Yes crack babies plural.  First of all I would not be allowed to adopt, because I am legally blind, on disability, very poor, fifty years old, do not drive an automobile, and I have already raised kids alone for crying out loud.  My kids are legally blind.  Ted has a mental illness as well, the older one.  I walk the walk too.  Plus I am old enough to be a grandmother.  Easily!  Many women much younger than me are grandmothers.  Geesh, give me a break!
     And if I were a crack addict, I'd have my baby.  Anyway off of this.  I am just saying how mean people can be just because you happen to differ from their opinion.  I do not say nasty things to them.
     What is more important, God, love and peace or being right?  I do not have to be right.  Why can't people put spirituality before politics occasionally?  Many people do, and I certainly am not generalizing because I really think most people are nice.  Maybe even the ones who say some mean things are nice sometimes to somebody.  I do not know.  I am just saying that I am tolerant of what others think, so I think it would be nice if they would be tolerant of the way I do.
Please feel free to comment on by blog.  I do not mind if you totally disagree with me, and you can even say why.  My own mother disagrees with me I think, well maybe not about the partial birth abortion thing, but on abortion she is pretty liberal.  So, as long as no one calls me names or says I should adopt crack babies, although I probably would if I could, I welcome comments, debate and even argument to a degree.

Every White Girl Wants a Brother

     OK, I admit it.  Every white girl wants a brother.  I had one, wanted to marry him too, but it did not work out.  I will not tell you how we met, because he does not belong to fb, and I know he is a very private person.
     I went up to New York to live with him.  He came to get me.   It was so beautiful riding up there.  On the way we stopped at a Holiday Inn, where he tried to get the brother
discount from the front desk clerk, another brother.  But, the other brother said "I like my job."  They seemed to get along famously. I am thinking "all black guys like each other?"  But in the room I asked him, "so you liked that guy?"  
     "No, he was a jerk," he said.  "He didn't even give me an extra discount."  My friend who I will call William for anonymity, already got a veteran's discount.
     I was happy at first.  William was very considerate, and not wanting me to be lonely came home during his lunch hour from his executive job which he wore a shirt and tie to each day.  I loved his apartment with its hardwood floors and so clean and roomy.  His taste in colors were different from mine.  He liked earth tones, burgundy and dark green, while I like bright colors I can see.  He made fun of my neon green, spandex jeans while we were doing laundry in the basement of the apartment building, but then said it was because I could see them better.
     So, why did it all go wrong?  One day I asked him to open a jar, and he said, "don't talk to me like that.  People have been talking me like that my whole life."  
     So, from then on I was like "uh, William, uh, can you uh please pass the salt, please, er - Sir?"  
     And, finally he told me I treated him like a "slave,"  because I was assuming as a woman I would get my way about our weekend local travel plans.  I would have been the same regardless of the color of his skin.  I was being myself.  If I treat men like slaves, no one had told me that before.  That was when I lost it and said I wanted to go home.  
     He said, "if you leave, do not come back.  This is not a revolving door, so if I book you a ticket, know that it is one way."  
     I said "fine."
     I never really looked back.  I tried I guess. I did my best but in the end I wanted to go home.

Adrien's Story

     Diary entry:  November 10, 2008:  I wish I never enlisted.  I miss my sister, my girlfriend Suzanne and I cannot talk to any of them including my parents.  We cannot have cell phones.  I can talk to my mother in code on occasion.  
     I wish I could talk to Daniel and Robert, but I almost feel I have drifted too far.  I do not know how much we would have in common if I ever go home.  I have seen so much death here.  We do not get to sleep much and when I do, it is hard to fall asleep.
    They call this Operation Iraqi Freedom, our mission, but I have seen civilians die, like kids playing soccer near a car explosion.  I saw a buddy get blown up, and several injured sent to the hospital in Germany, including Sargent Deborah.  I liked her.  I hope Suzanne never reads this.  I mean I am pretty sure she is gay, because of certain things, but we still have Clinton's "don't ask, don't tell" policy.
     I have been here for six months, but this is my second tour and it seems like forever.  I am hoping that I can go home soon.  They say some of these guys have done tours as long as a year.  I would hate that.  It would be unfortunate for me, but hopefully I can go home and see my family soon.  
     Obama was elected president.  I know Mom and Dad were for McCain, but I know first hand this has to end.  They say the exit date is around November 2011, a long way off, three years.
     It is so hot in Bhagdad.  It's like hell.  We wash our uniforms in bottled water and bathe in it too.  Soap is a luxury.  Boot camp never prepared me for any of this, the mosquitoes, the death toll, the injuries.  One thing they do not realize is the civilian casualties.  
     There's a doctor here, a real liberal.  Once Fahrenheit 911 came out a few years ago, before I was was ever deployed, there were mixed feelings here from soldiers.  Dr. John Carlson thinks Michael Moore is a genius.  All I know is I wanted to serve my country, and hoped that after I would go to college.  I think my parents are proud.  Dad was a general.  I just wish I could walk away sometimes, but you can't.
     We walked through the muck yesterday, looking to take out a terrorist who I will just call Ali (we have a friend at home with that name) and we never did.  Gunfire sounds sent us back.  We begin again tomorrow, in search of him.  Sometimes I know this is wrong, but I am here and I cannot change that.
     I fear our brigade commander may be a "toxic" one.  He has been reckless, causing us to go through an explosion in our jeeps, which was when Jimmy got injured, went into shock and died.  It was the worst thing I have seen.  
     We are not to fire unless necessary, but he has ordered us to fire killing unnecessarily.  I know the Iraqi soldiers as well as our enemies the Iranian Soldiers and insurgents are dying in high casualties.  The death toll is higher than anyone in the U.S. knows.  
     Here I am and I do not even know sometimes why we are fighting.
     I have been told by other soldiers that were here in 2004, that I am lucky to have missed Fallujah, the bloodiest battle of this war.  Fallujah is at the center of Iraq.  This battle was called Operation Phantom Fury or in Arabic Al-Fajr, which means "the dawn."
     
     Two months earlier:  Diary Entry:  September 15, 2008:  Now is the holy month in the Muslim religion called Ramadan.  There have been bombings in Bhagdad randomly.  We gained independence for the province of Anbar this month, in the northwest corner of Iraq.
    I am tired but sleep does not come easy and I have nightmares often.  The nightmares are hard to distinguish from reality.  I wonder if I am really strong enough.  Can I keep on through this?  Sometimes I feel like I can't, but I do not have a choice.  I have to keep believing that what we are accomplishing is for good.  It just does not feel that way anymore.
    
    Diary entry:  November 14, 2008:  We are still in pursuit of Ali.  Our first team brigade led by Sargent Kincaid will head out in the morning before dawn.  We have searched for him for days, following false leads, turning back from gunshots and explosions.  
     
     Traveling on that following day on the dawn of November fifteenth, Sargent Kincaid ordered Adrien and two other privates to pursue a lead at the house of a civilian where a bomb exploded.  
     
     "Adrien!  Thomas!  Michael!  Intelligence has informed me that Ali is in hiding in this vicinity.  Now, keep in mind these people are not hostiles.  Do not shoot.  I repeat, shoot if you get a clear shot of Ali.  Be careful.  The place may have a bomb set.  I am going to be posted here with Carlos, Shane and Robin, to watch for hostiles in the area.  I repeat do not fire.  We cannot have more civilian casualties on our hands.  We have already been questioned by General Bradshaw and Sargent Haynes.  We can't afford to screw this up.  Consider Ali to be armed and dangerous.  I repeat, he may have explosives on him or anywhere in the vicinity.  This is a highly dangerous mission.  Wait until you have a clear shot!"


     Ali was there, and reached for his rifle, ammunition  strapped to his waste.   Michael, Thomas and Adrien fired rifles in execution of Ali, but Adrien and both privates were injured and killed when they tried to save the family living in that house from explosives, two of which he got out, but Adrien and four other civilian Iraqis along with the two other American soldiers perished in the exploding building.  Of the Iraqi family, the two survivors were children.  The four others who were killed were the mother and two more children as well as the grandmother.  Two more children went to an Iraqi orphanage that November day.  Their father had already been killed months before. 
     
     Later that day another brigade's truck blew up when it hit explosives.  Adrien was one of many casualties that day, and yet he had died trying to save the lives of others.
      The U.S. Military came to Vermont to give a funeral for Adrien as a hero of the war.  The day he died he had no thoughts of heroism.  He thought of nothing, but trying to save innocent life, and he did, but Adrien was only eighteen years old.  He had been brave, but he had been afraid, somehow knowing that doom was drawing near to him, disillusioned and saddened by the war.
     
     Later, Sargent Kincaid was again questioned, since he had been considered possibly a "toxic" leader, because it may have been reckless to send in three soldiers, and could he have prevented the civilian casualties?  However it was deemed that Sargent Kincaid had acted appropriately after the three other soldiers present had been questioned by Sargent Kincaid's superiors.


Author's note:  In my research for this war story, I found casualties on all fronts in the hundreds of thousands, looking at every month that the Iraq war went on, including American soldiers, Iraqi soldiers, Iranian soldiers and sadly as well civilian women, men and children.  
     I also researched the individual deaths of soldiers, many of which said noncombat related or not to do with hostiles, which I find a little bit curious, and suspicious.  I will continue this project, possibly write an entire book based on Operation Iraqi Freedom commonly known as the war in Iraq, which most of us knew was wrong, and yet we support our troops, for we must as Americans.  
     Soldiers are doing too many tours, and one soldier killed civilians and is in deep trouble.  While there is no excuse for this, some think it may have been caused by PTSD or an overlooked condition of brain damage, which should have made him 4F.  Also, it has been said that he may have been under the influence of alcohol.
     Part of me feels:  What audacity do I have writing about this?  I am not a soldier.  The only member of my family who was in a war was my maternal grandfather, Private Hyman Silverman who fought in WWI, and was highly decorated for carrying injured men off the battlefield to the field hospital with metal in his ear from the explosion.  He could never hear well after that.  It was a highly dangerous mission he had volunteered for.
     In answer to my own question, I do not know why I want to write about this.  Possibly my writing of American Boys which is where my fictional character, Adrien came from.  He is not really a character in a sense, because he is universal and real, because there are others like him and many, although all individual human beings with courage, fears and sorrow like everyone, which is why I posted James Blunt's song, No Bravery in two separate videos on fb.  
      
     Note:  I made one error which my brother brought to my attention.  Although my grandfather Hyman Silverman was a private when he was injured and rescued fellow soldiers due to a very dangerous mission, he was actually ranked Corporal of the 60th division of the U.S. Army, and decorated with the Distinguished Service Cross in Vendum, France on October 27th, 1918.  

American Women During WWII; Change

     During WWII, American women often went to work in factories building ships and planes, while the men were off fighting.  In those days, women did not join the army like they can now, and men were drafted.  I think it helped to pass the time while the men were gone, especially for married or engaged women, but it also gave them a sense of purpose, doing their part for the war.  It was hard work, dangerous, and dirty.
     It was a time of change in terms of American culture.  Women who would have been teetotalers, began to smoke and drink, hang out in clubs, but most importantly working was a part of the women's movement which came later.  Women need a sense of purpose, to find themselves, to do their part and to invent themselves.  I know, since I am a woman.
     I asked my mother who is from that time, if she remembers women going to work in the factories.  She did, but she was in college at the time.  I told her I thought that my grandmother, her mother, was more the type that would have done that if it had been the case when Grandpa went to WWI.  She agreed with me.  Grandma was head of the Jewish War Veterans Wives after WWI, and also had much to do with the establishment of Brandeis University being established.  She had come from Latvia at the age of thirteen, spoke Russian, German, Polish, Yiddish and Latvian when she came, then learned English and became an officer manager as a teenager.
     During WWII, Americans, even those serving in the army, had no idea what was happening in the camps in Europe, where people were being killed unlike the internment camps F.D.R. had the Japanese in here.  People were shocked when it was all revealed, and soldiers did not even know until they freed the camps.
     My mother did say that she applied to one of those factories, but she did not take the job.  I think those days were a fascinating time.

On the Lighter Side; The Origins of Braille

     Got new yoga pants.  I wanted to get inspired to do more yoga, even if I cannot go to a class right now.
     Lately I have been one of these green people who want to save a tree, when in fact the bags are plastic and I really have too many accumulating at home.
     Last night I watched a video on youtube about how to roll your hair to look like the '70's or '80's, the Charlie's Angels look.  I decided it was all too much trouble, and you really need to get layers.
     Did you ever feel like the people you thought were your peops were really not, and they excluded you?  Maybe they did not really like you to begin with, or maybe familiarity breeds contempt.  So, you went looking for some new peops, only to find the same thing happening and you had very few friends that were not just fly by night fair weather.  Then you kind of wonder, "is it me?"
     I once told a male friend who was complaining to me about different girlfriends past, present, future, whatever, being vindictive and mean to him.  I said, "what do these women have in common?  You, obviously."  I said, "you must be playing some part in this and attracting it in some way."  He could not argue with that.  I had been one of those women, but had come to be detached enough to counsel him because I was no longer emotionally invested or infatuated with him, even though I was and am still quite fond of him.  I am just a little disappointed he does not interact with me on fb.  My brother says it is because he does not like me period, the guy I mean.  It was not even like, "he's just not that into you."  My brother said, "he doesn't like you."  And I'm like "uh, OK, I guess you are right," but my brother tries to be really nice to me, even though he also said I have no good pictures of myself on fb.  I think what he means is they are not good quality, are not flattering and do not do me justice, which is why I have asked a photographer friend to take some better ones when he gets a chance.  It is true most of them were either cell phone pics, computer shots, or just old pics, two of them, the one as a little girl and the one with my sister and my dad.
     You do not need peops when you have a nice family like mine.  Well, they are not perfect, but they are not bad either, and my brother's remarks are just normal brother to younger sister type remarks.  I mean, what kind of brother finds his own sister attractive?  
     The truth of the matter is I think the reason my friend does not interact with me is it might piss off other women, lol.  I am not the only one.  It does not really matter because we are not together period.
     The other thing is why am I so perceptive when it comes to other people's problems, and yet I just do not know what to do about my own?  I could do psychic readings for a living just with my experiential knowledge of human nature, but that would be fraudulent.  
     Did you know that in grade II braille, all the letters made up of a combination of any number and pattern in a cell of six dots, stand for a word like in shorthand, the single letters mostly short words, like just and can, but k stands for knowledge and p for people?  And, this my friends brings us back to the peops issue.
     Actually braille was originally a French army code to communicate at night.  Then the famous Louis Braille who was blinded in his father's saddle shop from an injury as a child figured out a way for the blind to read, and it was established in 1809.  He brought it from France to America to a school for the blind, and it spread throughout the world.  One of my braille teachers, Ms Sheila who was blind and very sweet, gave me a bicentennial braille coin that says Louis Braille 1809 on it.  I carry it on my key chain everywhere I go.  Ms Sheila passed away.  She was a beautiful soul.
     To all fathers, have a happy Father's Day tomorrow.  Namaste.

Love, Sex and Getting Older

     It seems when people are young, things matter more.  I mean you tend to get more upset about relationships and other things and depression is more prevalent.  
     Now that I am fifty, I feel worried sometimes that I am old now, but I have had so much drama and chaos in my past that a little boredom is welcome.  I now, not only do not sweat the small stuff so much, but I do not get upset about men so much.  I just show them the door at the first sign of disrespect.
     I can now enjoy the little things like water rushing up on your feet, a cool night breeze, sitting on your back front steps, being able to see an occasional moon in the sky, a good talking book, a good cup of coffee, fifty cent tank tops at the local discount store, dinner with friends, buying clothing on line, hanging out with family, etc, etc..., and the list goes on like the book Forty-thousand Things to be Happy About, such as dusty red and blue, banana splits, etc..
     Whenever I watch Cold Case, I get nostalgic for the late seventies and early eighties, the hairstyles and songs.  It reminds me of college and the songs we listened to on the radio and the way we wore our hair, but I guess I would not want to be that young again.
     A minister named James Brown, told me once that the next time a man showed me any disrespect, to show him the door.  Another older father figure told me the same thing.  
     I would rather be with no one than with someone who makes me cry on a daily basis.
A wise woman once said "if a man makes you cry he is not the one."
     Another thing is when I was young, jealousy made me fight all the harder for someone.  For example: if I saw my boyfriend and another woman too close for comfort, I would make sure I got their attention in a big way.  I once even slapped a girl over a guy.  I got in a lot of trouble with the establishment where this happened, although it was night time and we were pretty obscure.  My father condoned it to the director,  which I thought  was kind of sweet.  One of the things I miss about my father is his loyalty.  
     Now that you know what a 'bad ass'  I was, I will get back on point.  I am just not like that anymore.  Now, I just disappear at the first sign that anyone else is there in the picture, and I walk away.  
      I suffered and lost many a good thing for love, love that was not worth it, that was just a heartache, love for an asshole.  It was not worth it, not the sex, none of it.  Sex may be enjoyable momentarily like ice cream, but that does not last, and in this day and age it surely is not something that binds you, maybe temporarily bonds you, but it seems to have become meaningless in our society.  I realize good sex can leave one with a sense of satisfaction and well being and gets endorphins to set in like other exercise does as well like yoga, swimming, sports, biking and running.   
     I will not go into Meher Baba's discourse called The Problem of Sex, which my parents had me read as a teenager, since that was their belief system.  I was a good kid anyway, really never wild or rebellious, and a late bloomer, but I did get together with my ex-husband when I was only nineteen, moved in together, got married and pregnant at twenty, and had a baby at twenty-one.    
    I think it is meaningful when you are married and love each other or when you want to have a child or have a child unexpectedly.  
     I got off point.  I just realized that I could 
have saved myself a lot of unnecessary suffering if I had not stayed with jerks because of shallow superficial reasons like they were good looking.  I remember trying to break up with someone, and this friend said, "he is so good looking.  I used to have the biggest crush on him.  You are always a magnet for the most gorgeous men."  Thanks a lot, you should have told me what a major loser he is.  Words can be powerful to some people who are prone to be effected by them.
     I had so many chances to get out of one abusive relationship, mostly mentally abusive but a little bit physically abusive as well, but kept going right back for four years and then some.  Like I said in a previous article, no one is bad to you in the beginning, so when you get hooked on someone, it is the good stuff you remember and are blocking the bad.
     It is just that one knows when one is being mistreated, and yet when you have Stockholm Syndrome like I did, you get brain washed that everything is your fault, because you are a bad person.  He said constantly that I was a bad person.  I am really not sure what kind of bad person, because I was not doing anything, but he called my son a bad person too for no good reason.  I guess I was crazy then to put up with any of this, so now I put up with nothing.
    It took a lot of self-searching and actualization and reading books about misogyny, for me to change, but when you have had enough you had enough.  That is all I can say.  I hope I do not sound too jaded or bitter, because I want to see the past as nonexistent as well as time and to see all living creatures through the Holy Spirit thought system, ACIM.  

More on a Course in Miracles

     If one cannot forgive, then one is not practicing the Course in Miracles.  Of course ACIM is not for everyone.  At my first attendance at Unity Church in 2009, many walked out.  I did not see due to my tunnel vision, but a friend I was with told me.
     I was thinking that if only I had had the course in the '90's, because the '90's and early 2000's were the worst period of my life, and then I remembered that in 1996, a difficult year for me, Return to Love by Marrianne Williamson based on the Course in Miracles, was the only book I owned, and I read that book often out in Boulder Colorado, where I was literally having the first nervous breakdown of my life.  I read the words.  I understood them, and yet they did not sink into my messed up mind, but to give myself some slack, I will say that I was not sleeping and my freshly divorced husband was living there in Breckenridge with my children and his girlfriend, my children being the reason for me being there at all, and here I was alone in a cooperative house alone with strangers who did not feel comfortable with me and a nice host who was a Meher Baba lover but was annoyed with me and my state of emotional disarray.  Once things got so bad that my father showed up with his girlfriend, I think the severity of my state was inevitably established. 
    In the Course in Miracles, the miracle is when we change and find ourselves choosing peace.  Yet, when our ego grabs hold of this it can be just another ego trip, but there is an observer in us which is not ego, the collective observer that knows this is all a projection and a movie.

Just Blogging for the Hell of It

    Remember the Desiderata?  When I was in high school my French teacher was that one teacher you could talk to.  And later it was my Choir teacher, but even more so it was my French teacher, because it was more one on one, and with my Choir teacher it was more like all of us hanging around talking to her during lunch period.
     All I remember of the Desiderata, which she bought for me in the coolest store in the mall that existed in 1977, when I bumped into her one day there when I was with my parents, but separated momentarily.
     It said, "go placidly...etc..."  that is all I remember, although I can google it.  I did put it on my wall in my bedroom, and I know it was good stuff, just cannot remember.  I will repost it.  But, now I feel like it's "go willy-nilly and whatever,"  because the direction is gone.
     Maybe it is more clear or less clear.  I do not know.  There are expressions from that time I miss like, "you do your thing and I'll do mine and if we meet that's beautiful, but..."
    Back in those days even though I was just a kid, I was always saying "such and such is beautiful", until this guy my age that I grew up with said, "flowers are beautiful... "  and so I stopped.  
     Then in the '80's it should have said, "go aggressively...", because it was always about affirmations and money love, prosperity consciousness even if you were flat broke and did not have two nickels to rub together.
     In the eighties, I wore hot pink high heal pumps and went on a business trip to Fort Lauderdale to a seminar about making money selling New Skin products for skin and hair,  stayed with millionaire gay guys, and traveled with a guy in his forties, really old to me then, who had aquariums for headboards.  Honest, I never slept with him.
     He was nice.  Took me to breakfast on the way back to Daytona.  I think he was impressed because my aunt was a psychiatrist in a high rise office building and had an indoor pool visible as soon as you came in the door.  I think he felt bad for me because my husband had run off on me, although we already had our first child.  Little did I know, we (my ex-husband and I), were not finished and had another child in the cards - together.
     Recently I went to dinner at friends' and they actually asked me to tell them my story.  I was amazed.  I blog because I have a lot to say but no one wants to hear me.  Thanks to all those who read my blog.  I love you, and I think we all have a lot to say.  That is what I like about fb.  At least we can express ourselves to a degree.

When You Have to Do Everything; Frustration

     Sometimes life can be so frustrating, especially when you feel overwhelmed with small stuff like food shopping, housework, doctor appointments, and paying bills.
    Lately I am frustrated, feeling that I am the only one in my household who is physically doing anything besides fixing my own food for myself.
     I admit my adult son will take out trash and recycling when I ask and wash his own dishes and do sweeping or vacuuming when and if I ask.  
     I know this sounds like a bi- session, but I am tired of lugging in groceries, cleaning the bathroom and cleaning in general.  Maybe I am just moody today and should just meditate or do some yoga.  It just seems no time sometimes even though I do not work outside the home.
     This blogging is therapy for me.  I get to vent about everything.  Usually I try to be helpful to others like a psychologist without a license, a charlatan psychologist, lol.  I am in one of those self-deprecating moods today.
     I was searching yesterday for some song lyrics.  I write really big in 20/20 pens the Commission for the Blind gave me, lyrics and notes.  Then I have to memorize them by heart because I cannot read and sing, because my eyesight even with glasses is not good enough.  I came across my notes from when I first started blogging, several months ago, when I was listening to a lot of Depak Chopra books on talking books for the blind.  They have awesome digital machines and cartridges for the blind now.  We used to have to fuddle around with tapes with odds and evens on one side or the other and braille which I know how to read by the way, and in the '60's my dad had them on records, but they switched to tapes in his lifetime.  Now they put a book as long as The Stand by Stephen King, uncut, unedited, unabridged, sick version of forty-five hours on a cartridge the size of one cassette, and the machine really simple to operate.  Anyway, my notes were so organized and numbered, like notes I actually took while listening to Chopra, like on the seven laws of child raising.  Good stuff.  I love him and Eckhart Tolle as well.  I did not like Chopra's book on reinventing the body, because he had some attitudes and beliefs that seemed very elitist to me.  Forgive me for sounding like Sarah Palin using that word, elitist.  I can just hear her twangy mid-western accent, "we're just regular Americans, ya know?  And, you bet ya, I'm not like these Washington elite.  I'm just a 'hockey mom' and a 'Walmart mom'..."
No, what I thought was elitist was him saying that enlightened people go to new age holistic doctors, rather than regular western medicine.  I actually went to an East Indian doctor today who practices western medicine, but aside from the point, Medicare and Medicaid do not pay for most new age holistic stuff, except that Medicare does cover chiropractic.
So, unless you have lots of money, some of us do not have a choice.  But, I am a healer, a holistic health practitioner, have healing energy in my hands as a Reiki Master, so maybe that is inconsistent, but if someone was disabled or on Medicaid, I would probably not charge them, especially if they did not have a sugar daddy or mommy, lol.
I keep having to say lol, so you will not take me too seriously.
     Well that is all I have to say for myself today I suppose.  Love to all.  Namaste.

Insert to Chapter 15 (added this to the chapter today)

      Walking through Cambridge, carrying their groceries, towards Daniel's apartment, Bethany asked, "What happened to your father?  You never talk about him?"
     "That is because I virtually don't know him, and he and my mother weren't married.  He just kind of vanished, she said.  Don't remember him.  Then she married Nick's father, and he was like a father.  I was like five when Nick was born, and he stuck around til I was about seven.  He is kind of out of the picture too.  Doesn't pay child support for Nick, so I think he's like in hiding or something.  He wasn't too bad a guy, I guess."
     "Well that's not right, him not paying child support, especially with Nick's medical problems.  So, Nick is your half brother."
     "Yes, but we don't think of each other that way.  He's just my brother period, you know?"
     "Yeah." They were almost to Daniel's front steps to his apartment.  It was cold in the November evening.  Some snow began to fall on the sidewalk.
     "But, the state of Vermont took care of us I suppose, health wise, and with my eye problems, they helped with that, except that I wanted nothing to do with that special vision teacher they sent me at school."
     Daniel was unlocking the door.  They put down their bags on the table.  
     "I guess you didn't want to be singled out huh?," Bethany remarked, taking the groceries out of the bag.  "I kind of wish we ordered pizza or something, got take out pizza, I mean.  I think I'm pretty hungry for real food now, besides apples, cheese and coke."
     "C'm on, I know a place.  Let me just check my money situation."  Daniel looked in his wallet counting his cash.  "Yeah c'm on.  I've got a great place to get the best Boston pizza in the world."
    Bethany grabbed onto Daniel's arm.  He could not see well at night.  He locked the front door, as they were leaving for the restaurant.

Those of Us who Must Rely on Others

     I have known many so called pseudo spiritual, but when you cannot drive a vehicle, even though you might be incredibly intelligent and have much to offer, you might find yourself excluded.
     So, are the transportation challenged less than everyone who is not?  The not would certainly like to think so.  Frankly friends, people do not give a damn for the most part.  Some do it is true, but for the most part they do not.  They care for themselves period.  Yes, there are kind and helpful people in this world, but most people will not help you.  
     Recently I decided I need secretarial help for which I was willing to pay someone, but some friends offered to help.  Most people have no idea what it is like to have to rely on others.
      

I lived in L.A. During the Night Stalker

     I was living in Los Angeles when the famous serial killer known as the night stalker, Richard Ramirez was actively killing people.  He was arrested in 1985.
    I was married with a toddler and living in West Hollywood, one of the neighborhoods he targeted.  He also targeted young married couples like my ex-husband and myself.  I think he raped the wife and killed them both or something like that.
    My brother Chris was living with us.  It was summer and a heat wave was bringing the temperature up to around 110 or higher some days.  
     Affordable apartments in L.A. did not include air conditioning or refrigerators for that matter.  The windows were small as well.  We lived upstairs in a two story building across from Plumber Park on Fuller Street.  That connects Santa Monica Boulevard to Fountain and then on to Sunset and then Hollywood further North, and then on to Laurel Canyon and areas they call North Hollywood.
     My brother was going to U.S.C. studying film making and my husband and I were working.  My ex rather was also attending school, acupuncture school which was my place of employment after a couple of lousy jobs.  That one was pretty good and I held it for quite a while.
     One night it was so hot, my brother decided to sleep on the couch in the living room rather than in his room.  I noticed he had the front door open.  It was dark out, and the night stalker was out and had not been caught yet.  I said, "you should not have this door open."  There was a screen door, but the actual door was open.  When I went to close it he protested.
    "Don't close the door.  It is so hot," he said.
    "The night stalker is out.  We need this door closed and locked.  This is very serious,"
I told him.  I do not recall if he got his way, but when I watch Criminal Minds I realize how scary and serious that was.  I do not know why Chris was not taking it more seriously.  We talked about it to today, just talking about old times.  He suggested I blog about it.  I did not want to at first, but then I decided to.  
     I added a few facts of interest in the comment below.  This is interesting if you are interested in criminology.  I think if I could have been anything, I would have liked to be an FBI agent.  It is true.  Feel free to comment.

School is Out

     School is out.  The kids no longer trudge up the road from the school bus with heavy book bags.  They play basketball any time day or night, and friends can come over more frequently.  Parents are more relaxed because they do not have to make sure the kids get to school on time or pick them up in the afternoon.
     When I was a kid I tried to run away from home on a Sunday afternoon with my best friend, because I hated that tomorrow was Monday and we had to separate and go back to school.  I took some oranges and apples out of the crisper drawer and put them in a bag in case we got hungry.  Then we started to walk down the long dirt road towards the highway when I suddenly realized that we would not survive on a couple of apples and oranges, no clothing and no money.  So, we turned around and went home.
     Back in the '60 and early '70's we had very few stores here, and we got clothing very seldom.  Shorts were cut offs for the most part.  I used to choose clothes from the little girl section of Sears catalog.  I still remember my navy turtleneck with gold plaid skirt that matched.  I also remember in high school the survival jackets my brother and I got with orange inside and fir lined hoods.  Mine was plum and his was green.
      When we got our first toy store, I was in heaven.  I wished the toy store was open on Sunday.
     I also recall going around the neighborhood with my best friend to visit old people, because they had candy jars and offered us a coke.
     Now as a grownup, I still love this time of year when school is out.  When I was a teacher it meant no work for a while, but I was only a substitute teacher, and I did that between intervals of my other job.
      It is like a dreamy peaceful time of easy going disposition and perfect Spring weather.
     

What it Was Like at the Commission for the Blind

     In the winter of 2009, my eye doctor recommended through my case manager from the Commission for the Blind to go there to learn mobility, braille, computer skills for the visually impaired, aptitude testing and home

management.  The reason being that I have retinitis pigmentosa, a progressive eye disease that often leads to total blindness and am already legally blind and totally blind in one eye, except for a tiny bit of light perception that is pretty subtle and vague.
     When Alan drove me to Columbia on other business, I said, "let's go see what the Commission for the Blind is like.  I was there as a teenager in the '70's when my dad was there and my son Ted went, but I would like to see it again."
     It is on Confederate Street in Columbia.  When we went in I told the director I was coming in April.  She said, "no you are coming in March."  That was after I told her my name.  It turned out I went in February.
     Donna showed us around and introduced us to George the other administrator.  
     The first day there, Clint my mobility instructor oriented me and two other new students.  It took a while to remember my way around.
     The dormitories were upstairs.  You took an elevator.  I had my own room and shared a bathroom with a girl on the other side of my suite.  At night city light shown through the high windows.  
     We had three meals a day.  I tried to choose healthy stuff like yogurt, fruit and raisin bran, but could not resist the bacon eggs and biscuits.  Also I love fried chicken, so I gained a little weight there from the southern cooking.
     It was hard.  I learned to read braille and I was relatively happy and enjoyed the communal atmosphere, but I was going through inner turmoil about the blindness.  
     There were about ten men and ten women who lived on campus.  We were driven home and picked back up on weekends, wherever our homes were throughout the state.  They provided transportation.
     We went out in the evenings.  There was a young man named Michael who drove us around to malls and Walmart, etc..  Donna even had him take me to a yoga class I wanted to go to once a week near the university.  I would always cry during relaxation period because I was going through a lot and yoga enabled me to cleanse this.
     I learned to read braille.  I learned to get around the city with a cane for the visually impaired, and I learned to sew without threading a needle.  I made pillows for my mother's couch in my home management class.
     I was already computer literate and a fast officiant typist, but I learned a program called Zoomtext which enlarges everything, has audio features and cursor choices as well as different color options, customized to your visual needs.
     I helped other students who had no computer background.  I also helped students who had no vision at all.  I was used to that because my father was completely blind and legally blind my whole life.
     All in all I am proud of myself for having gone there and receiving their diploma called Adjustment to Blindness Certificate.  I also learned that I have a spacial relations IQ of 150, my other areas of IQ are a bit above average, but I did all my testing orally and manually so it might be different if you can actually read the material.  I did the math with felt black pens on paper.
     In addition they gave me a lot of things to make life easier at home, like sock sorters and lots of cooking utensils, such as oven mitts that go high on your arm and a contrasting cutting board as well as neon orange marking liquid and bump dots and braille writing equipment.
     I would like to go back some time and get more computer training, but their careers are very limited, although some people I know are doing well from them, the concession stand business and costumer service.  They used to have horticulture at one time.  
     I was there for five months, got burned out and had to take a break after a week long migraine headache.
    When I returned for my completion, they were remodeling the dorms, so we stayed at the Ramada which had a swimming pool, half of which was indoor and half outdoor.  It was November, but one night I swam under the separator into the night.  It was an amazing experience.  My head was in the cold November night sky, but the water was heated and I was not cold.  It was heavenly.
     I took my friend Rolando swimming.  He was totally blind from birth, and he enjoyed the pool but he could not go under because he had tubes in his ears.  We sat in the hot tub as well.
     On Tuesday nights, even though we ate supper at the commission before returning to the hotel, they had happy hour with free drinks and food.  
     So that is my story of the days at the Commission for the Blind.  There were some difficult times too, but I chose to focus on the happiest of times.