April E. Brucker's Blog, page 21

10 Things I Know For Sure

1. It takes more than 3 licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop.

2. Say what you will about Trump, but he owns Jeb Bush like a little bitch when they debate. I want to buy Jeb a drink, but still wouldn't want to be his friend.

3. Anyone who smokes pot is really just an insider on government conspiracies and this is their way of hiding it so they don't get caught.

4. Bernie Sanders is not related to Colonel Sanders, the KFC guy.

5. UFOs always make the same mistake, stop abducting from trailer parks. Then maybe you will find intelligent life.

6. A fetus is always front and center in any and every election. And that lazy blob of DNA has yet to jump out of it's mother's uterus. What an entitled brat!

7. My mom has psychic powers. She always knows when I need socks and underwear.

8. When Charlie Sheen tells you to get it together, that's not just rock bottom. That is the Mariana's Trench.

9. The Easter Bunny is Jesus's magical pet.

10. Never have a glitter bomb war with Taylor Swift. Just don't. 

The Sad Yet Predictable Downfall of Johnny Manziel

I still remember the night I saw Johnny Manziel win his Heisman Trophy. It was an evening where the air was thick because Manti Te'o was present, dead girlfriend story and all. There was another man there, one who's name escapes me that had no real chance of getting the coveted prize of the man holding the football.

Manziel won. He gave an eloquent  speech. Johnny Football was handsome yet didn't seem like the type to love 'em lie to 'em, and leave 'em. Despite his win, he was very humble thanking his family, teammates, and friends. Unlike past recipients, he didn't speak for too long or go on some bizarre tangent. Instead, he made it about the evening, the award, but most importantly, his team.

The Manziel clan was present to support the member of their brood, the one who's dreams they had fostered since he was a small child. Yes, that God fearing little boy from Texas who tossed football in the backyard with his father. The same young man who had a Bible verse on his twitter feed. Johnny had never been to New York before the ceremony either. If anything, he was a wide eyed boy from a state that was once it's own country and still acts as such. He was young, naive, but ready to deliver. There was nothing not to like.

His parents were so proud, especially his father. They had played backyard football since their son was able to walk. Since he was small, Johnny Manziel had admitted to wanting to win The Heisman. Playing throughout childhood and high school, and then ultimately college, he risked injury as his poor mother dreaded every time he was tackled. Each woman who had children felt for her on a visceral level. Yet Johnny Manziel always bounced back with super human strength as most sports heroes of mythic proportion do. And now all the hard work paid off and the childhood dream had become a reality. Heisman winner.....

Everyone in the Best Buy Center melted a little as this down home boy spoke with a voice laced with a gentle but firm Texas twang. He was Johnny Football, the toast of Texas A & M. He was the Aggie's Aggie. And now there were other little boys at home dreaming the same dream watching him intently on the screen.

Johnny's win did not go without controversy that evening. There was scandal about him being  a freshmen, although a red shirted one, which technically made him a sophomore. Everyone had been rooting for Te'o, because his backstory was the most heart wrenching. Yes, the dead girlfriend who was not really dead but didn't exist in the first place. Oh there is never a dull moment in the world of sport.

While I agreed he was young yet to win the award, he was indeed ready. Adrian Petersen, who had been nominated as a true freshmen, should have won the year Matt Leinart won in my opinion. However, although Petersen left after his junior season he stayed two more years and developed into a power house. Johnny Manziel was a good college quarterback, and actually by a lot of standards the best. We felt his future would be as bright as his mega-watt smile. But was he pro-ready, truth, after winning the Heisman so early in the game probably not.

At the time, unlike now, Manziel had a nice girlfriend and they seemed to have a semi-healthy, not so codependent relationship. One who was a beautiful model, but not one who was offensively clingy and clearly wanted a meal ticket. She seemed to like him and they got along. Sure they were young and things and that age don't last. At the time I thought, "Go, Johnny go!"

Stories began to emerge about another Johnny Manziel, one who would not hold his liquor let alone control his temper. The Texas boy had a dark side like we all do. Pre-Heisman, he had gotten into a drunken fight while helping a friend who felt the need to yell a racist slur at a person of Mexican descent across the way. When things got heated between his friend and the stranger, Manziel stepped in the middle and according to some even exchanged a few punches as well. Needless to say things didn't look good for the lad when he handed the cops a fake ID with a fake name, aka a pass to drink illegally under aged.

Manziel apologized for not only his conduct but the incident in general. He claimed he  changed his ways. Manziel was a young man who probably was ignorant about the fact that alcohol brings out the proverbial jerkoff in all of us. His coach, a Cus D'Amato type, banished Manziel to the field and made sure he literally never left the stadium. This man understood the likes of the Manziel's and knew the only time they couldn't find trouble is when they were focused and training. Johnny Manziel made a mistake. We never said he was perfect. People were quick to forgive and even quicker to cheer him on as he delivered victory for his school.

In Texas football is king, and Johnny Manziel was now ruler of the sphere he unofficially governed. In a culture where Jock worship is the norm, Johnny began to run with the ball, but this time in a way that wasn't good. Translated, he began to believe his own hype. Akin to the actor or comedian who has had only one major break, he began to believe the sun rose and set on his presence, and the people around him were not telling him any different. However, what Johnny didn't realize is that success is not built on one break or victory but many. Instead of being humble and continuing to work hard like some past Heisman winners, winners who were a little older and more level headed when they got the award, this hayseed cowboy was content to rest on his laurels.

Tales began to emerge from College Station about partying to the point where he literally lived in the frat house, drinking from noon until night. Gone was the beautiful, level headed girlfriend and replacing her were an army of women, all opportunists who readily took advantage of the oft inebriated football star. In his haze, Manziel forgot that with great power comes great responsibility. Just as the world had watched him when he won his Heisman, now they were watching his every move. The photos began to pop up on blogs. People excused him that he was young, stupid, and ignorant about his status, behaving like a normal college man. While I believe this to be true, bloggers were brutal nonetheless.

The stories got worse. Manziel began to behave like Diana Ross, simply showing up to practice when he wanted to. This included but was not limited to bratty tweets and oversleeping at The Manning Passing Academy which resulted in an early departure. He had already won the most coveted prize in college ball, so perhaps he felt he was above any and all rules. Instead of curbing his behavior when warned, as he was beginning to be a pain to the A & M athletic program and an embarrassment to the very award he won, Johnny continued. It's not that he was stupid and didn't get it, rather he was too young to understand.

Johnny Manziel was given the world on a silver platter, and instead of carrying it gracefully like Atlas, he was dropping it because the weight was crushing him. Signs of further trouble began to show themselves when Manziel was accused of selling autographed photos of himself. He did not help he cause as he posted photos of himself on social media flashing dollar bills. The NCAA did an investigation, and while Manziel was cleared for the most part, he was suspended for the first half of the game against Rice.

During football games, the practice of trash talk is nothing new. I know from years of seeing my own brother on the starting line. The pre-play dirty dozen included one opponent player mimicking someone signing something with his fingers in order to rattle Manziel.  Instead of being mature enough to ignore the young man and save his fury for the play, Manziel got into an altercation. When my father heard he said, "He's a young man with a bad temper. If he wants to continue, he needs to grow up a little bit."

Manziel felt he was pro-ready after his sophomore season.  When Manziel announced his intentions to prematurely leave college and enter the draft not only did I sense doom, but I smelled it as the center dish cooking that would become the main course for Johnny Football's future.  It was reminiscent of a conversation my sister and Janet Hill, mother of Grant Hill, had. Young players were leaving high school or dropping out of college to enter the pros in droves. Mrs. Hill scoffed, "Stay in school. Learn how to play ball. I don't want to watch you learn how to play ball."

 Manziel had talent, no one was disputing that. However, in no way was he truly ready to be a pro quarterback. While he was good, he had still some work to do before he was pro ready. His attitude had become rather abysmal, and no NFL coach was going to tolerate his diva-like behavior, especially such antics coming from someone who had not dawned an NFL championship ring on his finger. Johnny Manziel had grown used to an environment where he could get away with anything. He was a college kid enjoying the party. Mr. Manziel was a college kid who was not ready for the strain, stress, and reality of the working world.

Yes, working world. The NFL is a different animal. Just as a successful high school player does not make a successful college player, the same goes with the pros. Most college players do not last in the pros, only a very small number. While the odds are not totally impossible, one can be great but one must be ready when the time comes. The pros are a world where one's body is truly their instrument because it's how they make their living. Practice is serious business, and losing is not tolerated because the franchise loses money if they don't sell tickets. While the antics of some players are tolerated, most of the time if they embarrass the team they represent they are given the boot because the team doesn't want to lose sponsors. Again, it's a job. Also, if you misbehave the world is in your business moreso than when you were just a Heisman winner. If public opinion turns against you, it could be a nail in the coffin and kill your career before it truly ends. It's a lot of pressure to be great. Yet a lot of guys do it because they are adult men when they make their ascension to the ultimate arena of the modern day gladiators.

Of course, while it is hyped up in the press about famous NFL party animals, they are the exception. Many live healthily because as I explained their body is their instrument. There are some with quick tempers like Mr. Manziel, but they reserve that for the field. An injury could end everything, especially in a frivolous fight in time not on the field. Even if a star returns after injury or suspension, there may have been someone who took his place. Someone better. Someone who was just waiting to shine and finally just did. Someone who wanted the job and got it and now isn't letting go. Someone who wanted the promotion.  I said promotion. I said job. This was a formula that the very sheltered, very naive Johnny Manziel didn't understand as he was in a rush to have something happen before it's time.

There are a lot of reasons for this.  While athletics is a nice ticket, things do happen that end the dream long before it's starts. One such story is the brother of a very good friend of my dad's. While this man was released from the Miami Dolphins after breaking his leg, he has since gone on to earn millions of dollars in real estate and has a posh home in New Jersey. It was because he was smart enough to major in economics in college and to get a four year degree. While everyone's story is different, one never knows what the future might bring, good or bad.

Of course when one is in the NFL draft and they are calling the names of those picked, they don't want to entertain the darkening of the crystal ball. As John Lennon says, "Life is what happens when you are busy making plans."

When I made my rather pessimistic prediction, many of my male friends scoffed at me. They told me Johnny Manziel had to strike while the iron was hot. If Manziel got hurt in college, this could any end hopes of any NFL career. While I understood there point, Manziel is not a female athlete. More or less, women athletes especially have to capitalize off the small wrinkle in time they have. However, as a male athlete they are likely to peak well into their twenties if not early thirties. As a matter of fact, there are some young men who grew until they are 21.

Immediately, and not to my pleasure, my prediction proved correct. To say Mr. Manziel was inconsistent was an understatement as he dawned his jersey as starting QB for the Cleveland Browns. For starters, and to the ironic chagrin of my male friends, he was injured out of the gate. The athletes Manziel was up against were not same age males, but rather specimens in tip top physical shape, some on steroids even, and he got eaten alive. On top of that, Manziel could not control his temper on the field, and the opposing teams took advantage of this weak hand as he continued to show it. Manziel had not a clear thought in his head, and was a mere pee wee dawning a pro jersey not ready to play with the big boys.

At first the Brown's franchise was semi-forgiving of his lackluster, insistent showing on the field when he wasn't injured. However, he proved rather problematic and a PR nightmare in real time as well.  For starters, there were the alleged concussions when he in reality he showed up to practice drunk. Then there were times he was busy partying instead of being with his team. Mind you he also threw a water bottle at an autograph seeker when playing at a celebrity golf tournament. Johnny Manziel was nothing short of a lush, and one who found trouble like a squirrel finds acorns.

On top of that, Johnny found a girlfriend named Colleen Crowley. Whether she wanted to leech off his fame or help the troubled star we don't know. However their relationship was turbulent at worst and codependent at best. First a cop pulled Manziel over, and discovered the two of them fighting, and according to some reports Manziel may have even physically assaulted her. Because of the heat the NFL has gotten post Ray Rice, he was scratched from his starting position and benched. Manziel's woman troubles did not stop there.

According to another report, Manziel pulled Ms. Crowley into a car by her hair, and told her if she left he would kill her and then himself. While many of Manziel's alpha male fans as well as his family members blame this girl for his downfall, this is hardly Ms. Crowley's fault. Unfortunately dating violence is a two way street, and this enabling was only leading Mr. Manziel further down a terrible trajectory. These were two kids playing house and the Easy Bake Oven exploded. However, one was famous and the other wasn't. And the famous one was no longer a cute kid, but rather a pain in the ass one that was costing the Brown's franchise money, embarrassment, and continually under performing.

Slowly, everyone began to wash their hands of Manziel. First his agent let him go, and then his manager. Finally, the Browns ultimately announced their decision to release him. Manziel has said he wants to go to the Cowboys, but what makes him think the Cowboys want an overgrown playbaby who can't hold his liquor? They had Michael Irving after all, but Michael Irving knew how to win on the field. Either way, it is safe to say Manziel is snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

It's interesting to get perspective on Manziel from long time football fans. My landlord told me that someone else would grab Manziel up because of his talent, and because a lot of men, especially those in the draft could not be pro-quarterbacks. He said in his time he has seen a lot come and go, and there were very few naturally as talented as Manziel.

While this might be true, Manziel has proven to be more drama than he is worth. It is like any job, if you can't do it you get the axe. In the curtains there is yet another class of greats ready to storm the field and leave their mark. In there might be a Heisman winner akin to Joe Montana, and that person might not only be adult enough to handle the responsibility, but less of a headache able to deliver on game day when it counts. Translated, Johnny Manziel unknowingly put himself out to pasture, the glue factory, the bone yard, the place where washed up quarterbacks go long before his time.

My landlord said something else that I thought was interesting and felt held very true.  He said in his lifetime, the best quarterbacks were always backups first, and for years at a time. They not only learned the game at the NFL level from the sidelines, but eased into the stress of the professional sports environment. Therefore, they were mentally and physically ready when they won the Super Bowl. These days, he told me, they now threw them in the game to sink or swim, to see if their million dollar investment was worthy before even breaking it in. While the likes of Cam Newton rose to the occasion, others like Robert Griffin III did not cut the mustard. If anything, the NFL was a willing, wanton, and know nothing conspirator in this melodrama.

And then there may have been personal things going on with Mr. Manziel and his very public meltdown. One might be the the fact that he is suffering from a case of burn out, pure and simple. We see it all the time in professional sports. Vanessa Atler was perhaps the best gymnast in her generation, but was plagued by injures and eating disorders. Ultimately, the world saw her meltdown the day of the Olympic Trials on live TV. Even outside of sports there is the case of celebrities like Charlie Sheen and Britney Spears unravel in front of the cameras. The antics are entertaining, that is, until they crescendo into a sad demise like that of Amy Winehouse. As a world we watch and do not help, yet like a massive car pile up we can't take our eyes off of it either.

The sad truth is, Mr. Manziel might have just peaked. Yes, kids, I said it. This might be it for him. Mary Lou Retton and Oksana Baiul were gold metaled and retired by age 18. Granted, as a gymnast and ice skater their time window for success was relatively small. Still, I went to high school with kids who shined academically and athletically only to drop off the map. One young woman I knew from college dropped out after receiving a lead in on Broadway. Then she was on a television show that was ultimately cancelled then left show biz altogether. Now is she married with two kids and not pursuing entertainment in any way. Then there are the slew of one hit wonders. Bottom line, some people shine for that period of time and then it's over, plain and simple.

However, the sting of that reality is even harder for Heisman winners, especially if they are filed under Heisman bust. Yes, former winners who could not smoothly transition into the pros.  The list includes but is not limited to Matt Leinart, Mark Ingram, Troy Smith, Jason White, and Gino Toretta. Now these shoulda beens show up to the ceremony every year to rehash the good old days, sign footballs, and then have an awkward smile as they broach the subject of what they are up to now. Some even play arena ball, but most of the time that is where most pro dreams go to die.

More of the tragedy comes when it is the case for those people, and they grapple with life in the present, trying to find their place. Maybe, this is the sad case with Manziel. It's over and he knows it.  As a crime psychologist once explained when an overachieving woman went on a killing spree, "Some people are successful as teenagers but the success does not translate to adulthood, and when this happens they are at a standstill."

When people come to such a standstill the experience is frightening. It's like they are trapped in the past never to move forward, akin to Al Bundy speaking about the winning touchdown at Polk High. Others make up lies and pretend they are still doing well when it is all just a fabrication.  I knew a young woman who won a huge award in high school, National Merit Scholarship to be exact. She got married and had kids but wasn't really working. In a newsletter, she claimed she wrote a New York Times Best Selling Book. People even posted to congratulate her.

One small issue, she didn't write the book. Not only had I met the author in passing via social media, but one could go to the local Barnes and Noble and see his name on the spine of the book. While this lie was petty, egregious, and could have gotten her sued for theft of intellectual property, it showed adulthood wasn't as rewarding as she had hoped. She wasn't achieving the brass ring she had as a teen.  Perhaps Mr. Manziel too is looking for that brass ring that was once so easy and now elusive.

The Manziel family is supportive, but yet a supportive family can feel like a burden rather than a blessing. Perhaps by voicing his fears and anxieties, Manziel was afraid of disappointing the people who loved him the most. And perhaps as he moved further into his journey, that same support not only felt like pressure to succeed, but pressure to pretend like he had it all figured out. And in doing this, a terminal uniqueness washed over his life.

However, the mistake of many young people is that they assume their parents don't understand. Maybe they don't "get it," but they have lived long enough to identify. Perhaps the Manziels would have stepped up to get their son assistance sooner had they known what was even going on in the first place.

Feelings are not facts, and thank God for that. Johnny Manziel's support network is strong as ever. Mr. Manziel, the man who was teary eyed when his son gave the legendary acceptance speech, one so humble you wanted to hug him, now plea for the NFL to help his out of control son, the one unable to handle adulthood and the great responsibility thrust upon him. Former NFL players, such as Earl Campbell, have even offered to have a sit down with the wayward star who is quickly burning out and fading in order to save him from complete and utter demise.

The victory of this whole situation is that we live in a society that now looks at addiction as a disease and not a character defect of someone who "can't control themselves." Johnny Football has already taken a stereotypical celebrity trip to rehab. While it can be a punchline, especially if the person suffering is famous, it is also an education that addiction is an equal opportunity offender.

Addicts are all proverbial Johnny Football's, people who were not hard wired to deal with life on life's terms, or life as the rest of the world says. However, the beauty of rehab is not just recovery, but a tool kit for life. Addicts are told that they show up to grow up, or change or die. That's right, change or die. The end result of addiction if untreated is death, and sometimes it is a slow and painful one where others are dragged down as well. And when this happens everyone says the same thing, "They were so brilliant, talented.....what a waste, what a waste."

Perhaps these are the last of his gridiron days. But if that is the case even if Johnny Manziel turns his life around, he might get his dreams in a way he never expected. Some Heisman winners have not retained their glory on the field, but they achieve success in other ways. Tim Tebow was a professional bust but now works as a color commentator on ESPN for college football and lives a complete and happy life. Archie Griffin, the two time winner, did not have the same success in the pros. However, he has found a second wind as an entrepreneur. Only filled with gratitude, Griffin says he is grateful not only for the Heisman but for football in general, because without it he would not have gotten the educational opportunities he did.

Or maybe not. Maybe this just might be another chapter of adversity in a life story of a man who will go on to be one of the greatest to play the game. And maybe people will talk about how he got knocked down, grew up, and turned it around to become a legend. Either way, as a spectator and fan, one who has seen both his rise and fall from grace, it saddens me that he has fumbled so badly in the game of life.

However, just like everyone else, I am rooting for Johnny Football not only to make a comeback, but a touchdown. And as a person with slightly more time on this planet I am hoping it is as a happy, balanced, grownup ready to play as an adult on and off the field. 

Open Letter To Peyton Manning

Dear Peyton Manning,

I want to start by saying I was once a fan. As a young woman, I watched you play at Tennessee and was always impressed with your character and what I perceived to be class. Now I believe you were pandering for the American audience and the camera. I read what you did to Dr. Naughright and I can say I know she is telling the truth. You, Sir, are a Class A creep and utter moron.

While there are women who target professional athletes, Dr. Naughright has a record of not only being good at what she does, but accomplished. Others have said this doesn't matter but it does. For years she endured abuse from not only you, but other male athletes at University of Tennessee. Oh, and what was worse was that it seems her bosses encouraged it.

As I said for many years I was a fan. Through the Heisman community I heard nothing but good about your family. It was hard for me to digest at first. As a matter of fact my baby sister, an ER doctor, won the Wendy's High School Heisman. Yes, just like Jamie Naughright she's a doctor. I know it's hard for you to fathom that women aren't just designed to please your sexual needs.

Honestly, maybe it was a stupid asinine prank at it's worst. Maybe you did mean to moon your fellow moron and it went terribly awry. Maybe you did mean to teach her a lesson, because after all, she was an uptight bitch harshing your mellow and a Manning man cannot have that. Maybe she was a "cunt bumper" as your coaches called her and other women in the athletic department, and in your good old boy culture "dykes" aren't tolerated, so maybe you did a childish, homophobic thing. Maybe you didn't believe women belonged in your locker room and just wanted to be a jerkoff because you were young and weren't thinking. Maybe you were a super spoiled, rich, arrogant asshole who never had to work for a damn thing in his life and you felt that as star quarterback we were all your surfs as you were lord of the manor. Or maybe you were so inconsiderate that you didn't understand that your behavior could cause discomfort and ultimate harm to someone just doing her job. But why would you?

Let's say you are as stupid is as stupid does, and you didn't mean to hurt her. Why not apologize? Why not admit you did a dickface thing, no pun intended. Why not just let this woman have her job and her dignity? Why not learn so you don't continue to be a bully in the future? No, that would be too easy.

Instead you took the asshole, low road. You proceeded to slander Dr. Naughright. Yes, I called her Dr. Naughright. I know to you women are just being there to serve you and suck your dick but Mr. Manning, Sir, they get advanced degrees now and become accomplished professionals in a variety of fields. One is even a presidential candidate.

In any event, you said she used "vulgar language" and that offended you. Mind you, your private area in her face offended her but why should she matter? A woman's place is in the kitchen. Then you even claimed she was dating and having sex with black athletes. You did this to make her look like trashy. Sir, you and your father Archie-whom up to this point I believed to be a man of honor as well-did some serious victim blaming. I am going to call bullshit where it is.

Now I wish I could say it ended there but it didn't. You proceeded to reenact the incident with your boy's club anytime Dr. Naughright was present, and you even knocked something out of her hand once or twice in order to cause further intimidation. Of course this was after she stood up for herself and complained. She had no right to do that. This is your planet. Women folk just live on it.

The athletic director insisted and said you were mooning a friend and it went wrong. Everyone else called bullshit on you. One young man who would not lie to protect you lost his athletic scholarship because he didn't want to protect the white prince who could throw a football. Maybe he didn't have your talent but he knew to do the right thing, and that says more for him than it could ever for any of the stupid rings you have on your finger that could easily be pawned by some burglar. Others under oath spoke about Dr. Naughright's character and professionalism, and asserted that you were in fact an ass clown, creep, and dickface.

The jury of course rendered their verdict because Tennessee is a state where they make up the law as they go, university system included. Jamie Naughright, despite 10 years of hard work to build her name, was torn down by you and chauvinism. She got a sizeable settlement and left. Mind you money couldn't take back the years of sexism and torment she had to endure to get where she needed to go with her career, and the headway she achieved before you came and took it away. If money could buy class we would all have it. You of course should know.

When Dr. Naughright left, she was encouraged to say a black athlete did the damage. Not only was that a lie, but in a system where women were treated as chattel it appears they had not received the news of the 13, 14, and 15 Amendments being passed. Translated, black athletes are whole people and it is not only amoral but illegal to accuse them of sexual assaults against white women that they did not perpetrate. Then again, he was 3/5 of a person according to anyone's logic here so it's all good.

As if that wasn't enough, you and Daddy Dearest proceeded to slander Dr. Naughright in print long after you had settled. You wrote, or rather paid some poor soul who just wanted a writing job to ghost write your book, because as a spoiled athlete who only went to college for football you probably never once attended class. You also sent her a threatening package and got her demoted from the job she had for years after the fact. Then again, you are a man and you just had to put this woman in her place one last time.

I know your mother was a mere Homecoming Queen at Ole Miss, and while I cannot speak for her character I know perhaps she pandered to her father and her sons and this is why you turned out to be the selfish monster you are. Unfortunately, as someone who has survived domestic violence and has written extensively about it, my belief is that the pattern for people like you starts with a weak willed maternal figure. And men like you cannot deal with a woman in authority or a woman that opposes you. It appears Dr. Naughright did both.

As a man in sports you have had everything handed to you and are ignorant of the plight of people such as Dr. Naughright. My mother was captain of her Division I swim team in college. A true and original Title IX crusader, she led a sit in so she and her college teammates could have letter jackets commemorating their winning season. For the men's team, this was never a dispute. My mother went on to have not only a successful career as an athlete but as a coach. She took a lot of heat from knuckle dragging, mouth breathing, entitled, idiots like yourself. Because of this, she helped pave the way for women like Dr. Naughright. However, this means nothing to someone like yourself who never had the pleasure and pain of having to fight for what he has.

Luckily not all male football players share your stone aged view on gender. My brother was also a football star in high school and in college at Brown University. Playing on the defensive line, he took a lot of hits and was injured quite a bit. Never once in his athletic career did he think let alone entertain the thought of making a female trainer sexually uncomfortable. Not only are you a pig, but you are a disgrace to any decent man who has ever played the game or football in any capacity.

I have been on the other side of cretin scum like yourself, men who think women like myself are designed just for their needs. Men who cannot stand having a woman with a backbone. As a young woman, I had many guy friends and believed feminism to be an outdated cause and sexism dead. When I got knee deep into comedy I realized how wrong I was. Sexism is alive and well, and men like you keep breathing new life into it.

During my career, where I have done nothing but work hard and sacrifice in order to get to the next level, I have been accused by male headliners of doing various sexual favors. Why would a woman ever work hard? Then there was the time this male booker, a washed up comedian like you are a washed up quarterback, bombed onstage. Afterwards, he cornered me, pinned me against the wall, and reached his hands down my pants. So I punched him and ran out of the club.

He didn't think it was so funny I guess because he called me a bitch, but it was funnier than anything he said on stage all evening. Guess I'm not gonna be booked there anytime soon. After hitting the street, I took a turn and knew not where I was. I was too dazed to cry, and too confused and shocked as a result of my ordeal to know I wandered into a bad neighborhood. Luckily I was rescued by someone who saw me walking and took me to a safe train.

As you can see I have a vulgar mouth. And I even, gasp, dated a black guy. Apparently, according to the standards of Peyton and Archie Manning, I was deserving of this unwanted sexual contact.

Of course you don't get it. Your whole career has been handed to you and you have never had a hard day in your life. Lucky your throwing arm was always good. Because you are an inbred, stupid, not to mention ugly mutherfucker. You make millions of dollars. And let me tell you, that is probably the only reason your wife sleeps with you. With absolute certainty, I can ascertain that you are stale as a conversationalist, a controlling husband, and suck in the sack. No one else would be with you if you didn't have that financial perk, trust me. Otherwise, you would be dragging a dollar bill through the nearest trailer park or hanging out at Shony's Bar.

Let me tell you Dr. Naughright handled this better than I would have. She went the dignified way, the way one goes when they hope their employer will do the right thing. I have experienced sexism and the evil of the paradigm. While it is your world and my people merely exist in it, I would have ruined you in ways you never imagined. For starters, I would have told anyone who would listen about what a small, unimpressive penis you had. Then I would have called Howard Stern with details as soon as you were drafted. I would have done the same to Mancow and Opie and Anthony. And I would have even written to Playboy and xoJane. I would have made your life a living hell. I would have given you the bad day you never had. So thank your lucky stars it was Dr. Naughright and not I, dickface.

Your behavior was downright apocryphal. You are a detriment to all my wonderful male supporters. And yes, we make raunchy jokes sometimes, but no one is actually assaulted in a way that makes them uncomfortable mind you. But if you shove your manhood in my face, it must be because I put sassified pictures of myself online. Of course, shithead.

I hope and pray you have grown up and have learned to respect women as complete people, but I seriously doubt an entitled shitbag like you knows how to do that. You probably won't read this, but others will. If you do I hope it makes you uncomfortable. I hope it gives you a bad day. I think it's fair, Dr. Naughright has had plenty of those on your account.

Prayerfully,
April 

The Break Up Alphabet

For those of you who have ever had a bad break up with an idiot. This is a tribute to not one but several ex boyfriends of mine. Yes, those who came, stole my heart, stole me a present, and always made me pay. But don't give up on love kids, because at least when you are unlucky in love there's a good story afterward.....

A is for Alien Abduction, when you dropped that bombshell I wasn't woman enough to stick around.

B is for Bobby, your broke ass broke best friend who always needed money and was living rent free with his girlfriend. Now I know where you felt so inspired.

C is for Child Support. You made them. Damn, they are making you pay for them.....even when you lied and told me you had no kids.

D is for Double Wide. I wax nostalgic about what we could have shared sometimes.

E is for Engaged on the 3rd date. That was a bad decision on my part, especially when you considered marrying in secret and breaking the news to my parents when the time was right.

F is for Five Finger Discount. I wish I could say you stole me something nice, but the things you took were always stupid and classless just like you. But you did steal me an air mattress once and that I needed, thank you :)

G is Gina, your weirdo sister who knew waaaaaaayyyyyyyy too much about your relationship with me. I think she was really the girl of your dreams. Alas, as they say, a family who sleeps together stays together.

H is for Holland Tunnel, the nickname I gave the vagina of your ex-girlfriend Jenny, the one who has 5 kids with 4 different guys who insists you are just friends that happened to send naked pictures.  But maybe she was your Cinderella. And you are the next Prince Charming (who doesn't pay child support).

I is for It's All Her Fault. Yes, your child's mother is so unfair dragging you to court and making you pay for the kid you sired and denied. She's not being mean, anyone would be pissed after realizing that not only did they sleep with you, but they have created a new breed of genetic mutant that might potentially destroy the world......oops, it's got your DNA, it's not smart enough to destroy the world.

J is Jail, what is where you were when you not only missed my birthday but you lied about the fact you were even in legal trouble. And J is also Judge who locked you up for being dumb enough to get caught.

K is for Katrina, the ex who still loves you and is all over your social media like velcro. She cheated on you, had a kid by that dude, but wants you back because he has a job and why would she want a man who pays child support? Oh and you, yes you, who has no job and lives in your mother's basement will rescue her!

L is for Love. It's the shortened version of the phrase, "I need a place to stay rent free and you happen to be in the neighborhood where I hang out most. I also intend to eat your food and use your utilities like the dirt bag I am."

M is Move Right In and just leave your things after the first date. Of course this is after you threw in love.

N is for Not paying rent here because I let you use my body. While it might work for your moocho bestie who's hot, your body ain't that good.

O is for Open the Door, leave, and don't let it hit you in the ass. I threw your stuff out the window in case you are looking for it.

P is for Penis Pic. Shouldn't you have taken me to McDonalds and made me pay before the disappointment set in?

Q is for Quit making excuses, we both know you are a lying sack of shit who mooches off of women, makes kids he doesn't support, and lies when all is said and done.

R is for Ruiner of Life, that is the title you should write books under but that would mean being able to read.

S is for Stalking, that is a crime. Now get the fuck off my lawn you weirdo. And yes, I know it's you under that ski mask.

T is for Trash, yeah, that's the name of your ex girlfriend you were cheating on me with, and the one you hooked up with the night we broke up. (But as I said you were one big old sexual disappointment, Big Guy. And now that it's over you do need a new place to live).

U is for Undercover, that is how you were operating before your wife called. Apparently she was unaware you had an open relationship.

V is for VD. I heard Swamp Thing, the girl you hooked up with after we broke up because she looked like me (that is, if I really gave up on life). You said I couldn't get mad for that reason alone. But she gave you something that you needed penicillin for. HA! (God hates the same things I do).

W is White Trash. You all hate Obama but he is feeding you whole family, the families of your friends and their throngs of children out of wedlock. How? (Answer: By making America work for them!)

Z is for Zzzzzzz, the stupidity of you and your idiot friends has left me rather tired.

Clinky S. Truman: Tale of a Snuggle Buddy

I have a new man in my life. Relax, it's not a boyfriend. At least not in the technical sense. His name is Clinky S. Truman. You see, Clinky is a Valentine's Day present from someone whom I have grown super, super fond of. A true kindred spirit, he like myself is a complete history nut. When I went to his house and saw he had original newspaper clippings from the day Lincoln was shot I was awestruck and I don't know if starstruck is the correct word, but eh.

Like myself, this fellow can name all the presidents in order, and like me he even knows the name of their wives. What does this accomplish in the scope of the world? Absolutely nothing.

It's rare to have the dork taled bond like this, and most people don't understand it. Once, I was on a date with a dude who was a complete and utter Neanderthal. Granted, he was handsome but in the words of Judge Judy, "Beauty fades and dumb is forever."

In any event, it was a party that was pretty horrific and my date went to watch some show on television which was more akin to his IQ. Yes, a show where the participants risked death and the barbaric spectators at home gaffawed. My date, the duranged version of Pauly D, thought the show was the bees knees as he and his fellow cave men engaged in a bizarre ritual of chest pounding. Bored and ready to put a pencil through my eye, and trust me his friends were too stupid to have ever seen one, I left and found the two dorks I knew in the room.

My date for the evening. It looks as bad as it was, trust me.
Within minutes, we found ourselves discussing General McClelland and how he nearly bungled The Civil War for the Union. We also began to engage in a discourse about how the art of war had changed. While I didn't want to be disrespectful to my date, I was talking about things that expanded my mind. I didn't mean to be gone for long but was sucked in. I figured my date found some cave dweller closer to his phylum of pretty, feeble minded trash. In events like these, usually not only is that the case but he leaves with her, the girl who's panties he doesn't have to work to get off.
Not here. Pauly D walks over, harshes my mellow, and hisses, "What, am I not exciting enough for you?" No Slow Poke. You aren't. And then he went on some trailer park-esque tirade about how he spent money on me therefore he owned me for the evening. I told him I had a job and if he wanted that attitude he could hire a hooker. Then I reminded him I was in fact smarter, and that was the beginning of the end. The end came when he sent me a text, I corrected his massive spelling mistakes, and he told me just because I could spell didn't make me better, but alas he misspelled the word better.

I do have the connection to one person aside from the man who sent me the teddy bear. That person is my dad. When we watch Big Battles, we are like two Gremlins at the movie theatre. The rest of the family whines as we hold them hostage. Hitler and his evil Nazi shitheads are about the be defeated by the Allies Goddamnit! The rest of the family groans, we know America is going to win. Yes, but don't tell us that. Don't spoil the miracle.
My dad and I watching Big Battles. Yeah, it scares everyone.
I wanted to name my new stuffed friend after the man who sent him. This fellow, as I mentioned also a history nut, has bloodlines descending from The Mayflower. His name even sounds so, and it would have been a dignified teddy bear name. Then he said his childhood nickname had been Clinky. Thus it became the bear's name.
I decided to give the bear the second half of his name after perhaps the most underappreciated but perhaps the most honest leader America has ever had, Harry S. Truman. Yes, the little senator from Pendergast. The one prone to occasional vulgarity and the one who didn't take any shit from anyone. They called him "Give 'Em Hell Harry" and oh yes he did.
I wouldn't want to piss this dude off, ever.
Truman became the Vice President quite by accident. Roosevelt's advisors felt Truman would be the best Vice Presidential candidate because his predessor leaned too far to the left and America was paranoid about Communism since the Russian Revolution. Roosevelt was intrigued that a man from Missouri, a notorious conservative state, could be balanced, fair, and a middle of the road liberal.
However, Roosevelt and Truman only met a few times. Because he was Vice President, Truman was treated like an understudy, akin to the backup quarterback. While benched, he had to be ready to play at any given time, but as we all know most of the time the back up does not see game time. Truman knew the basics of Roosevelt's foreign policy, but his job was to lead Senate and stay out of Roosevelt's hair. Added bonus, also to avoid any major scandal but no one truly cares about the Vice President.
That is, until Roosevelt died in the arms of his mistress. Truman went to comfort Eleanor Roosevelt. He asked her if she needed anything. She said, "Me? You're the one in trouble now."
Of course she would know. Much like the House of Clinton, while the man who benefitted from the patriarchy was falling weak to his basest of instincts, his more intelligent wife, not given the opportunities because of sexism, was running the country. The more her husband was out of the house the better. Truman knew this too. This is why he gave Mrs. Roosevelt so many UN opportunities.
The real President Roosevelt
The antithesis of the overeducated, out of touch, yet benevolent near dictator he replaced, Truman hadn't recieved a formal college education but somehow became an administrative judge and then head judge of Jackson Country, Missouri. Direct, feisty, and fair, Truman was not only a welcome relief to America but someone who was truly in touch with the people he ruled because not so long ago he had been one himself.
While Germany surrendered, America was still in the grips of conflict with Imperial Japan. Truman wanted a swift exit with a swift solution. America had been at war for far too long. So was it a land invasion or the atomic bomb?
 Either way, the American dead had piled up throughout the years. Americans were weary of body bags and weary of mothers burying their dead sons. While it meant killing Japanese innocents, it was either a million of ours or a million of theirs and it was no other way.Needless to say, after a heartwrenching wrestling match with his conscience, Truman did the still controversial thing of dropping the bomb.
Truman warned the Japanese government of his intentions and gave them ample time to surrender. Alas, they did not take the American president seriously. One atomic bomb came their way. There was still some resistence. Then another one was dropped. Finally, Japan surrendedered. Truman knew this was a lose/lose situation. He wasn't happy about it. But he was thrust into the seat of commander and chief and had to do what was necessary.
Action shot, Truman doing something presidential.
As far as leaders went, Truman was ahead of the bell curve. He was a practical progressive and a liberal with a backbone. Long before Obama made Obamacare a reality, Truman proposed national health care. His heart aching for the Jews of Europe, much to the consternations of conservatives, he helped create the state of Israel. Truman was also instrumental in the Civil Rights movement. Like Roosevelt before him, he sought to desegregate. He wanted Civil Rights not just for blacks but for Native Americans, Latinos, and women as well. Being a fair and balanced man, Truman, if he had the dialogue, would have probably opened the conversation to the topic of LGBTQ people. Also, he led the Americans from a war time economy to a peace time economy and saw growth both times.
Korea, nicknamed Mr. Truman's War, in some ways it was a blunder. The goal was to contain The Soviet Union. It was the auspicious start of America acting as an odd big brother. Truman wanted Wilsonian ideals and wanted to end isolationism. Still, while national security was at an all time risk, more so in those days then it is now, with the Rosebergs and all, perhaps in retrospect his actions make sense. 
Like everyone else in America, I have mixed feelings about this. Not every culture is equipped to embrace democracy. Yet at the same time, the arrival of America presents the fact their might be a better option. Also, each time America has taken down a dictator they were an evil presence that needed to go. While we have done so in countries where the natural resources were plentiful, it still bettered the lives of those people. Perhaps America should decide whether it wants to be Big Brother to no one or everyone and not just the people who had oil. Like Truman said in regards to Israel, "It's not because they have oil but it is my moral duty to do so."
Either way, much like Obama, he had a conservative house that attempted to thwart him. Not taking his hits lying down, he fought right back. He knew a great many Americans voted Republican, but knew the very party they supported was the one that sought to impede their rights and resources.
Truman also caused quite a stir when he fired Douglas MacArthur. At any job, you cannot obey your boss regardless of your military expertise. Especially if you boss is the president, Pal. Thus Truman's approval ratings were at either an all time high or a bitter low.
MacArthur, smoking on the job. No wonder he got fired.
His daughter sang and a critic ripped her to shreds, he became a dad and responded in kind. Truman said he responded not as the president but as a father. Bess Truman, his wife, hated The White House and being First Lady. His mom would call and tell him how to run the country. Bitter about the outcome of the Civil War, she refused to stay in the Lincoln bedroom even if her son was president.
At the end, what made Truman so tremendous was he was president during a difficult time. He had to make some decisions that no leader should have to make anywhere in regards to the safety of the people he governed. America was in the midst of a tough time home and away, and we needed a tough leader like Truman. While he had much to contend with, moreso than the Bush father and son duo, he dealt with these things as he kept his sanity, sense of humor, and above all things dignity as well as honor.
God, do I wish Harry Truman were running today.
Upon retirement, Truman returned to Missouri and didn't want to collect off of his past as President. He felt it would degrade the office and the people of the United States. No man who has held the office, before or after, would have been so noble. While financially unstable in those times, Truman made money from selling the rights not only to his life story but history as he understood it.
Later, when the gravity of Truman's situation was revealed, a bill was past to give a pension to those who were president. Bottom line, Truman would rather die a pauper than be a shill who ever feasted off the bones of others. Since that time, those that proceeded him were overeducated, opportunistic, silver spoon fed sons christened for political office who would have had no problems capitalizing off of once being commander and chief.
History has been kind to Harry Truman and with good reason. He was not a career politician who sought to sell out those he supported. Truman's main focus was the people he governed, the sanctity of the office, and above all things, being fair. And FYI, Truman was a true student of history and literature. If he were alive and well, he would probably he happy as a pig in shit in front of the History Channel, too.
However, high schools still do an injustice to this leader who perhaps was the most unsung American hero. They gloss over his presidency in order to finish the year on Civil Rights. While these things are important, one cannot ignore the man who laid the groundwork for that. Or as Truman would say, and this is a Truman quote in the room of a history teacher who ironically gave him the shady skip treatment, "The only history you have to learn in the world is the history you don't know."
The teddy bear is really named after this man, Teddy Roosevelt
So perhaps half-naming a teddy bear after Truman is not far off, although it was originally named after another president, Teddy Roosevelt. That being said, my teddy bear reminds me that it is important to be fair, kind, balanced, just, and it is okay to have a backbone. That it's okay to stand up to bullies. That sometimes, you give the most when people expect the least from you.
On the flipside, you are never too old to have a stuffed, oversized, snuggle buddy.
Truman giving me a big teddy bear hug and kiss 

The Great Beyond (REM)

Last night I went to an event where I got to finally meet an internet friend of mine in person. His name is Alain Nu. His moniker is "The Man Who Knows." Alain and I sort of met on facebook and began chatting on the regular. It was discovered we had a few mutual connections in Las Vegas. So when I found out he was in NYC I decided I wanted to meet him.

Alain warned me the place would be filled with so called "magic geeks." It was filled with magic geeks, but I found the lecture interesting honestly. Yeah, I am a huge dork. Put me in front of the History Channel and I am happy as a pig in shit. Plus as a ventriloquist I am no stranger to magic shops. Many times it's where I get my figures, and I shoot the breeze with the dudes doing card tricks.
As I suspected, I was the only female present. Actually, I take that back. One wandered in with her father and the other might have been someone's girlfriend. Magic is not usually a woman's game, which made it even more enticing. I am not a woman who minds playing with the guys. Actually, I think men play far more fair than women. That is what is setting feminism back, but that is a topic for another blog.

Apparently, there is some crazy East Coast v West Coast rivalry going on between mentalists and magicians. There is a definite turf war that I was unaware of, but in the dorkosphere I got a kick out of it. This crowd was passionate about both magic and mentalism. Alain did a coin trick and this would be David Copperfield in front of me spent the whole evening trying to master it. Actually, it was quite adorable. While he never did master it, I was going to give him high marks for persistence.
I learned the meaning of the word equivoque means. Yes, as in you can suggest something to your volunteer during a mentalist act.

There was a break and then the thing everyone had been waiting for, SPOON BENDING. Alain admitted he was friends with the very controversial  Uri Gellar. Yes, some say the man is a fraud because Johnny Carson debunked him on live television. Others stand by Gellar as a genius and true mentalist. Alain said that Uri Gellar is actually a super nice guy. If you have a friend or family member who is infirmed in any way, Mr. Gellar will call that person just to talk and cheer them up. Apparently it's not a one time thing. Mr. Gellar likes to keep in touch and is a true friend.
In any event, Alain had me help with the spoon bending. Despite my ease in front of crowds, I was also conscious that it was not my evening and therefore it was not my job to be front and center. Alain introduced me as his facebook friend and all. Then he had me autograph my spoon. He began to bend it. Alain said he wasn't giving away his secret......hmmmmmm.....

Then Alain hypnotized me and had me hold the spoon in my hands. Never in my life had I been hypnotized. Either way, maybe he was equivoquing me. Because I couldn't open my eyes and my hands felt glued together! Then I opened my eyes and I had helped bend a spoon. YA BABY!
Alain ended his evening by telling us this: "A lot of magicians go for the trick, but you should go for the miracle."

This spoon bending made me smile. It brought me back to the time when I was a kid. My dad had a friend named Arthur Valentine. Uncle Art, as we called him, was one of my dad's best friends. He met my dad when my dad was a labor lawyer on a deal. They were fast friends because Uncle Art was deeply involved with US Steel, and both my dad's dad and his grandfather worked in the mill, one as a master machinist and the other as a roll turner respectively. Uncle Art had been active with the union and had even been friendly with Jimmy Hoffa. Alas, he and Mr. Hoffa had a disagreement one day and Uncle Art dodged a car bomb  by literally seconds.

In any event, Uncle Art, aside from having a colorful personal life had an even more colorful companion. Her name was Cordelia LaMont. Aunt Cordelia was from West Virginia and was married to a guy simply known as Ram who worked in the mines. She herself was a seamstress and dance instructor.

In any event, Aunt Cordelia was on the picket line protesting for the miners. She was a bleach blonde with an hour glass figure adorned in hot pants. The camerman, probably overworked and rather sex starved, had a close up of her the entire time as the newsman was doing his voiceover narrating the strike.

Meanwhile Uncle Art was unhappily married to a super Catholic zealot who he had 5 kids with and felt chained to. Needless to say, when Cordelia walked his way he was rather smitten and left his family. His kids hated him and his estranged wife bitter. But eh.

While Uncle Art was cool, Aunt Cordelia was completely zany and bonkers. Most people tolerated her because they liked Art. Looking back he probably had a thing for crazy women and this is what kept getting him into hot water. What I am trying to say was, Aunt Cordelia was into UFOs, Ouija Boards, and the paranormal. When you met her, she spoke about her son Vince. Yes, the story we got to know so well. The young man was abducted by aliens and dropped into a gay cult.

During the time Vince was present, he would corroborate Aunt Cordelia's claims by showing us the plugs in the back of his head where he was supposedly probed. Oh, and he was simply leaving the supermarket, putting his groceries in the trunk, and lost track of time. Sure the story was insane, especially as a starter. But it was bold, I gotta give Baby Girl that much.

Aunt Cordelia not only introduced us to Ouija Boards but designed her own. She insisted that reincarnation was a real thing, and sometimes she was visited by her past lives. Skipper, Wendell, and I were enthralled. My father was less than amused, reminding us that we were Catholic and we did not believe in such things. Usually when my Aunt Cordelia started, especially the one where her dead mother walked her basement along with her dead husband that she was supremely unfaithful to, my mom would smile and bear it. Skipper, Wendell, and I would try to contain our laugher. The look on my dad's face was always priceless.

Aunt Cordelia was a student of Uri Gellar. For years she had been reading on psychic phenomenon. So much so that Aunt Cordelia, through Uri Gellar, became convinced she could bend spoons. As usual, during a get together, Aunt Cordelia espoused her evidence that the paranormal was real. Not only could she bend spoons, but she had been practicing. To prove her point she got out a wooden box with spoons that had been bent in various ways.

Then she invited my siblings and I to try.

Skipper and I, ages 8 and 10 respectively, tried with all of our puny elementary school brain waves to bend these spoons. It didn't work. I gave up after about a minute or two, but Skipper sat there and focused for at least five minutes. Akin to Kerri Strug on the vault, she was not giving up.
Wendell put his spoon behind his back. Always a strong kid, he bent it. I saw him cheat the rascal. Then he exclaimed, "Look, I bent the spoon!"

Aunt Cordelia was enraptured with Wendell's psychic energies. He was the hero of the night. I didnt want to burst Cordelia's bubble that my brother had cheated. Neither did my parents nor did Uncle Art who was forced to endure her.

During that part of my life, people made fun of her in a malicious way behind her back. Granted, the vodka guzzling, over made up, crack pot homewrecker did make herself an easy target. But Cordelia was creative. She was a hell of a seamstress, could make a dress out of scratch, and even designed an earring that my dad helped her get a patent on. Not to mention for as flipped out as she was, Cordelia was thoughtful, never forgetting a birthday or anniversary. She also was kind if you were upset like she was to me plenty of times when I was an over sensitive  kid. Oh, and she was VERY SUPPORTIVE when it came to my dreams, especially my writing.

The long and the short of it is, sure she was eccentric but she was harmless and at the root of it actually rather kind hearted. She made my Uncle Art happy and really tried with her stepchildren who hated her guts. But more than anything, Aunt Cordelia wasn't afraid to break the rules and didn't give a flying fuck what anyone thought of her. She wasn't afraid to have the conversations about UFOs, the afterlife, and the possibility that one could bend spoons. More than anything, she wasn't opposed to people telling her she was wrong, and spoke to children on an adult level about these things. The last update I got she had a severe stroke. Better give the poor thing a call.

Are there UFOs? It only makes sense with The Big Bang Theory and how Einstein's Theory laid the universe out, that Earth would not be the only place with life. Is there life after death? We shall never know. While I don't believe Parker Brothers has the gateway to the netherworld, energy can neither be created nor destroyed. As for bending spoons, Alain's secret is Alain's secret, and Cordelia wasn't cracking the code either it seemed.

The trick sometimes is that we don't want to know. That we shut our minds off to possibility. The miracle however are people like my Aunt Cordelia who aren't afraid to ask those questions even if it annoys the people around them. And the fact she wasn't afraid to try to bend spoons let alone be a zany presence to the consternation of others. People like Alain are also the miracle, magicians who believe in magic. Mentalists who are not afraid of magic. Masters who are dedicated enough to give the lecture to those who are just as passionate.

Maybe we should all bend a spoon at least once in our lives.


 

Strange Dreams

As of late I have been having some odd dreams and I don't know what any of them mean. One dream was that I got back with an ex of mine-one where things ended badly, VERY BADLY. (I don't want him to know where to find me kind of badly). Not only were we back together, but we had just gotten married and we were talking about having a baby. YES, A BABY!  In any event, we discussed a plan so I could conceive and he suggested taking out my IUD. I thought this was A GREAT IDEA. Anyway, I was all so excited to have his baby. We even planned on having his friend who is a complete leech and waste of flesh who owes everyone money act as the Godfather.

Then I realized what I had done. I WAS HAVING HIS BABY!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!!! I HATED MYSELF BUT NOT THAT MUCH! I panicked at the bad decision I saw myself making. Not only was I ruining my life, but creating a mutant who had no chance. So I woke up screaming, but then clamed down once I realized my IUD was where it was supposed to be and my uterus unpolluted by his damaged DNA.  So then I got a glass of water, went to sleep, and had an okay dream I really can't remember.

The next strange dream I had was set in the back of a chapel. I was getting ready to get married. In any event, I was given a wedding gift by the grooms mother. It was an old antique purse filled with Bubble Yum. I was told it was their family tradition that the bride must chew bubble gum. So I put this bubble gum in my mouth and it was really thick and sticky. I tried to open it, but it was so thick and sticky I could barely chew it. Then I had three dresses to pick from. The first was this beautiful form fitting dress. The second was a nightmare of lace, and the third was nice and ivory. In any event, I picked the first but there was no time to get changed. A wedding was being had. So they pushed me down the aisle in my street clothes towards this husband who from far away looked non-descript.

Then I woke up like WTF?! Yes, like what the freak just happened?! I'm not seeing anyone. No hell no way. And wow, just wow. Either way, it was a relief to still be single in real time.

The final weird dream was that I was 11 years old and was doing gymnastics again. It was hot and the Olympics were on TV and we were all following them that summer. So here we were in the gym, and I had just mastered my half twist. I was doing a perfect routine, and even did a perfect layout on the tumble track. However, I had forgotten to bring my water. Yes, my freaking water. And the worst part was, I didnt know where to get any water. My instructors were clueless as to assist me, because we had trampoline next and that was their big priority.

All of a sudden I start coughing violently. I can't breathe but we have to go to trampoline next. I needed to make it to trampoline. But I had to get to trampoline BUT I COULDN'T BREATHE!!!!!!!!!!! HELP ME!!!!!

And then I wake up coughing and get some water.

So who knows what any of this means.........Sigh. Maybe it is that a lot of my friends are having kids and said ex has been coming up quite a bit on convo. Maybe it is my sister's wedding. Maybe it has been watching gymnastics on youtube. Either way, these dreams are spooky. Sigh.

Love
April 

Ex's and Oh's (Elle King)

Lately I have been having a lot of conversations about relationships. Both of my housemates are straight men. One is divorced and has two sons, ages 18 and 20 respectively. The other is exactly one day older than me, born the same year. He is single but met a girl on instagram that sparked his fancy that lives in Austin. Living with two dudes has made me get more of a sense of humor about love, but made me realize yes, dudes do have feelings.

My divorced housemate whom I will call Don was married for 20 years. As he explained his wife used sex as a weapon. Eventually the sex disappeared and when it happened it was 3 minutes of pleasure that didn't make up for nearly 23 hours of pain that followed. As Don explains, he loves being a parent. He loves his sons. But as for getting married again, NEVER! He will have another kid, yes. But never another wife. Maybe she can live elsewhere Don surmises.

The other day Don and I were talking and the conversation turned to open relationships. Personally I think they are the wave of the future. Don brought up people have feelings and from a disease standpoint monogamy is safer. Plus if you can find a person who is a friend, has things in common, and the sex is great because both people are that committed you found your match. I asked if such a thing existed. Don said it must. But then we both agreed if we had the answers we would both have not been dateless on a Friday night.

My other housemate Al, like Don, is a painter. Al as I explained is enamored with a girl who lives in Austin that she met on instagram. The last girl Al dated was another painter he met in the gallery world. Yes, she was crazy. All female painters are crazy. Al found that one out the hard way. The girl on instagram is a writer. Al has faith she might not be as crazy as the painter. Truth: Female writers are cat shit crazy. I reminded him of Anne Sexton and her oven trove of adventures. Yes, I am making a tasteless joke. However, he surmised that while this was true at least it would not be painting discussions all the time which drove him over the edge.

Don suggested it was important Al met said lady in person. "She could be a real beast." Don advised. Then he told two stories. One was of a date he went on with a beautiful girl who turned out to be absolutely crazy and nearly killed him. The other was when he was fixed up with a troll looking chick who was the salt of the Earth but all these gorgeous girls were throwing themselves at him. But the troll had money. Don let the troll down easy. He wasn't into it. But the pretty girl had nearly killed him. The question is, can one ever win?

Of course than Don mentioned his ex wife was cute but not as pretty as he was into, and she was crazier than all the rest in the end. Yet she lured him in with gifts and such. Years later she tells her sons she chased their father and wonders what the hell she was thinking. He wonders what he was thinking taking the gifts. Love is a narcotic. When you are on it you are out of your damn mind, screw over those you really care about, and turn into a complete dick. Afterwards, you are forced to pick up the pieces.

My mom always said God doesn't give you everything. I still recall a Match.com date I went on where the guy walked in and was better looking than his picture. All these years I was lusting after Ashley Wilkes when I could have had Rhett Butler. The date went well for the first five minutes until he revealed his plans to overthrow the government. Then he mentioned all the other presidents were in a conspiracy. Ronald Reagan was the only one not aligned with this conspiracy because he didnt need to use a teleprompter let alone cue cards. In the words of Chris Rock, "When God puts it in a pretty package it's just to fuck with you."

And then there was the dude I met on Match who was my Ashley Wilkes. First date we hit it off and the dork squad texted into the night. Second date it was like who is the  wimp across from me. Third date I tried to give him a pep talk and made him cry. Am I mean or was he just nuts? Hell if I know.
In my chats with my housemates my last ex comes up quite a bit because he is recent. Don reminded me once that not anyone is all bad, and he even found some good qualities in his ex wife still. He reminds me there was a reason I liked my last ex who I will call Sam. Yeah, Sam and I ended because Sam was deceitful and lied about something huge. Maybe it was because he was in denial. Maybe it was to protect me. Or maybe it was because he just lies like all men do? Who knows.

But the truth was, Sam was generous to a fault. He would bend over backwards for his friends. At a rough time in my life, Sam was selfless with his efforts in order to get me back on my feet. When I was forced to replace 80 percent of what I owned, Sam showed up at my door with a bed and dressers. He brought me a purse and brought me food when I was too weak to move. Sam was patient when I had my breakdowns as my hair was falling out. He let me have my moments. Yeah, Sam had some good qualities.

In the end my last relationship was like a curiously built European car. No one could understand it. When it ran it ran beautifully. However, when it broke down it exploded like nothing I had ever seen and there was no fixing it. No way no how. Yes, it ended badly. All my relationships do. To date me is to hate me. I'll admit I am a jealous control freak who wants what she wants and she wants it now. My ambition always comes first and my lovers suffer. Plus Sam and I saw life two very different ways in the end. He was ready to settle down, I wasn't. If things didn't end when they did, Sam would have had issues with me going to Vegas like I do. He most certainly didnt want me going to Europe.
In reality, we were people who started out as friends that should have stayed friends. He hates my guts now. I have no feelings on him either way. You see, I don't like how he lied to me, but wish him the best as a person. He has some things to figure out. We all do. And maybe Sam would have been more honest with me if I was at a better place in my life. I don't know. It's over and we probably will never be friends again. Actually, I can say that with accurate certainty. But it's fine. All is fair in love and war.

The truth is, this was my first big foray into being monogamous and I think I did a good job. I hadnt been faithful to a partner since my former fiance. Sam and I operated as a unit to the point where it was scary. I had plenty of chances to cheat but didn't. Through the grapevine I heard Sam was planning on getting some side action with a would be actress/waitress and an old girlfriend from South Jersey where he was from.

The revelation didn't upset me when I found out long after our relationship ended. Because truth being, I was being lured in by an old comedian friend and another dude I had something with once upon a time. Not to mention the nephew of a prominent New York City judge was beginning to pique my interest. While I didn't bite, the offers were on the table and things got harder and harder to resist.
Maybe both of us wouldn't have been exploding out of our skins if we just agreed on having an open relationship. Yes, I would have a date night with another dude and Sam would have a date night with another woman. Sam was more blue collar and was a genius with sheet rock. It was dead sexy, but ultimately when I said the names Thomas Paine and Albert Camus his eyes went bored. I still remember chatting with a vegan history professor about them and being oh so turned on. Then Sam walked in and I felt guilty. If I could have did the business with the professor and came home to Sam all would have worked out well.

Sam had throngs of women throwing themselves at him. He was funny and good with his hands not to mention kind hearted. They drooled over the flexing of his muscles in a primal way that I never could muster let alone understand. My need for intellectual stimulation frightened Sam because it meant I didnt always need him, and I know he needed a break from the history references and the talk of an ambitious, driven woman. What Sam wanted was someone to cook for him and worship him. I don't do those things to men. If he could have had a date night with one of them on the same night I had my date night, it could have eliminated a lot. Plus I think we could have been happier.

It was a relationship where he knew he couldn't give me certain things and vice versa. Had we opened it up, I think maybe, just maybe, everyone could have gotten their needs met. Because we didn't open it up, what happened was resentment built that is eternal and lasting on both ends. I think had we opened it up and if we decided we didn't work, we could have remained friends. However, he viciously hates my guts and that's fine. His friends and family distain me as well. Wouldnt expect anything less, it's the way these things always shake out. 

I did suggest opening it up at one point because I could feel Sam's unhappiness growing with me. Instead of being on board he accused me of wanting to cheat. And then he went on a jealous rant about feelings and heart and blah, blah, blah. At the beginning he wanted monogamy and made me promise that, but towards the end I think he secretly regretted it. This outdated social norm was the rope that was hanging us both cold and dead.

Maybe that's why I got as jealous as I did at times. It wasn't because he was a bad guy who didn't care about me. It wasnt even that he didn't love me, he would have given me the world. I think I knew deep down we both had an itch we needed to scratch and unmet needs on both ends. It wasn't so much about what he was doing, it was because I was so aware of mine that I became painfully attuned to his.

In a way it was a blessing things ended the way they did and when they did. We hurt each other at times, and a lot. It wasn't because we were bad people, it was because we knew we couldn't give each other everything and we wanted to so badly to where it was just plain painful to watch.  I know I would have been the first to cheat and felt the urge but I didn't want to lose Sam. Had things been open we wouldn't have had that issue though. Because my partner wouldn't give me that option, I would have been christened the bad girl lacking morals and would have had a crown of thorns placed on my head. It's not that Sam wanted to oppress me, his upbringing and the world he was from couldnt fathom that option.  In reality, I wasn't bad or evil. I was a person simply bowing to the basest of human instincts like we all do at times.

Whether you want to cheat or not, monogamy is like Vietnam, the memory messes with a person's mind. After my relationship ended, and even though Sam does not want me back and vice versa, I felt my first date with another dude I was cheating. He took me to a nicer place than Sam could ever afford and brought me flowers, but it felt as if Sam was watching me the entire time.  I wasn't doing anything wrong. But society has brainwashed people so badly to make them a slave to the paradigm that the second you question it or break away, you are akin to a slave on the Underground Railroad running to your freedom. I have seen said gentlemen twice since then and both times have been lovely. And I want to see him again.

Then I did scratch the itch with the judge's nephew who has spent a ton of money on me and took me to places Sam would never step in let alone dream of as he joked about being a trust fund brat. We ate lobster, talked Camus and Thomas Paine, and even laughed about literature.  But the judge's nephew has a long time lady friend who he is with but not really. They sleep in two different rooms and it's complicated. He does what he does and she does what she does, not questions asked. I don't want serious and neither does he. People would say he's cheating and I'm the other woman. But we aren't hurting anyone and I am having fun. And I want to see him again, too.

In Coming of Age in Samoa, Margaret Mead surmised someone should have three partners in their life. Each should be for 7 years, and at the end of that term you should decide if you want to renew or not. And if you do renew for another term, don't renew for another 7. Essentially a romantic partner is like an apartment. There are people who have decried Ms. Mead and said she is full of baloney. Yet in this world 50 percent of marriages end in divorce. It's not always because both people don't love each other and that they are bad. People grow, people change, people get bored, people evolve. Relationships also run their course, and we must realize this without the malice typically involved in a split.

I still remember being in high school, working as a lifeguard and regularly being propositioned by married men. They all agreed they loved their wives but that they were bored. Yes, bored. They all said she was a good woman and a good mother but they craved that new adventure and then would tuck it away to go back home. And even those that were too pure to proposition me admitted to looking at porn. One got in big trouble because his wife found his search engine history. It wasn't that he didn't love her. The man had needs. It's not that she wasn't enough.......it was complicated.

It's all complicated. People cheat for a myriad of reasons and the person they cheat with isn't always a Playboy/Play Girl model type. Heck, I have been cheated on a bunch of times. My former fiance cheated on me with a former girlfriend I will call Busty. She was a bigger girl, which made me do a double take when I found out she was the side piece. But Busty was attractive not to mention a semi-celebrity on the roller derby circuit. When I bitched about it, people cited she could have had a better personality. Maybe she did, I never met her so I can't comment on her either way. However my ex cheated with her so I didn't care for her therefore she was  a bitch by default at the time. But then others saw her picture and exclaimed, "She's fat and ugly! What was he thinking!" He was thinking he had needs that needed to be met and I wasn't the woman to do it.

Isaac regularly dated other women as he dated me, but got upset when I did the same with guys. The much older Playboy with the Park Avenue apartment was once out with this frumpy would be writer who sometimes contributed to some feminist blog that no one besides feminists care about. She was cute, but not pretty. The lady looked like she had never seen a tube of lipstick. I remember she was pleasant enough. Isaac tried to pretend he was parading her around to make me jealous and it kind of worked.......but then I started talking to her, liked her, and came to the conclusion Isaac was the idiot not her. Still, she was closer to his age and I wasn't. She understood how to have a good time and let go whereas I was a clingy kid. We all have our strengths I suppose.

And of course there was Paul who was on the run and working as a male stripper and rent boy. While living California, he called me from the home of his "sugar mama" to tell me he still loved me. I saw a picture of his sugar mama and she was easily 200 pounds. Not only was she bank rolling him and his coke habit, but she had three kids. Yeah, it was shitty and he was using her. But she wanted to be used. At the same time, although I was easily better looking I hated her guts because I loved Paul so much even though he was a terrible mistake. But feelings are not facts, they just are. In the end she found out Paul was calling me and had a shit fit. But he needed funds in addition to emotional support. As I said, one person cannot give us everything......

While Sam never cheated, as I mentioned he was getting ready to. The actress/waitress he was going back and fourth with on facebook that I will call Pasha adored him to no end and seemed to need him. Sam was the type who needed to be needed. I wouldn't say she was pretty or ugly, but she was distinct looking. I saw some of her youtube videos and she is a good actress, and she could be great someday. Ultimately, she decided to forgo Sam for a homeless, married man because the poor thing is more invested in good decision making than I am. I met her once and did like her. I hope she's okay. The other girl he wanted to get it on with was a girl named Jennika who had 3 kids and had her ex desert her. While she wasn't unpretty, she wasn't above a 6. She also wasn't the achiever I am. Yet at the same time she was probably a better cook than I was and like Pasha, needed a man whereas I don't.  Sam needed to feel important and valued and I wasn't giving that to him, and maybe it was because I didn't know how. Freak if I know......

When each of my relationships ended in disaster they were truly over. I can honestly say while I am no angel, there was no ultimate bad guy on either end either. In each case, we were all people who had a journey together and that journey was ultimately over. We had run our course. The lease to this schlepp truck was not being renewed. We were all relieved.

This is where relationships become like free therapy sans the Freud couch. We all claim that they are the bad guy when we seldom look at our role in things. But we want to point the finger because as I said, relationships are akin to therapy, and we learn truths about ourselves we don't want to learn. Maybe that's why break ups are hard. We don't adore them, they weren't so great. It's because we beat ourselves up for being such pathetic doormats who forgo what we really believe in because we sell out to the social norm that it is better to have a partner who pisses you off than to be alone and happy. Or we realize how much we gave of ourselves when really we couldn't give them everything and were pissed we tried in the first place.

Then there is always the bullshit promise we will do things different next time but we never do. I'll admit I will always be the same jealous, self-centered hot mess with trust issues. My puppets and my career will always come before any man. I don't cook, clean, or do laundry and never will. I am iffy about wanting a family and marriage is eh. That being said, at least I'm honest which is more than can be said for any man I have ever been with let alone most people out there. I do some things right and need to give myself credit somewhere.

Do open relationships work and can they? I have 2 friends a witch and magister in the Church of Satan respectively. Their relationship is open, and it is more honest and healthy than anything I have ever seen. Each has a date night and then they compare notes. At times I don't understand it because it is like nothing I have ever seen. But they are truthful in a way no couple I have ever met is, and not to mention their ethics are amazing when it comes to the rest of the world. They come to the aid of those who are bullied constantly. Not to mention they are good friends with their other sexual partners and at the same time love each other unconditionally. While there are those who judge the witch and the magister, maybe they have stumbled upon utopia in the way the rest of the world hasn't.

On the other hand, I had another friend do an open relationship with a vampire dungeon mistress as the man on the side. She fell in love with him and her husband got jealous. In the end, he used her lifestyle against her in order to get full custody of their kids when he had been game for an open relationship before all this went down. Then my buddy married her and she picked up a female side piece with mental and emotional issues who later fell in love with my pal's wife. In the end, she tried to kill my pal and his wife and was led away in a straight jacket. That time it didn't work.

Maybe it was because they didn't have boundaries or people developed feelings. But I also think it was because people wanted control. Long after the fact I found out my bud's wife was jealous of me because she thought he wanted me  because he called me talking for hours about the depth of their relationship. Meanwhile she had no reason to be jealous. She had a date night with someone else. So again, maybe they needed to figure some things out.

But then there was the dude when I was 22 who lied and said he was in an open relationship. I didnt know this until his wife called me to scream. Alas, they should have had an open, honest discussion. Nonetheless, I do believe open relationships are the wave of the future.

My mom disagrees. She says, "Women will continue to be jealous. Men will continue to be possessive. People will continue to die."

Who knows? I wish I had the answer. If I did I wouldn't be writing this blog. I know one thing for sure though. Hell will be a round table support group with each of my ex boyfriends exchanging notes and me walking in on the meeting. Eh, what can you do, right?

Happy Birthday, Thomas Paine

"These are the times that try men's souls. When, in crisis, the summer soldier and the sunshine patriot sink from the service of their country....." Thomas Paine penned those words in regards to the American Revolution. He is a founding father. His birthday just passed. Instead of giving him a postage stamp or a celebration we seemingly banish this patriot and dedicated Son of Liberty.

Over the years, Thomas Paine has been taught by history teachers as a part of The American Revolutionary unit. Then he is forgotten like the rest of high school. I still remember learning the first part of "The Crisis" in Mr. Tietz's history class with hand motions. I thought it was funny and eccentric just like my beloved instructor. However, I remembered the words but gave little thought or meaning to them let alone the man until some years later when I began my own journey with my words.

George Washington was the general who made America possible. Thomas Jefferson and John Adams were the statesmen who's knowledge of government and how things work made the penning of the Declaration of Independence even a thought let alone a reality. Benjamin Franklin was the foul mouthed diplomat who moonlighted as an inventor that got the revolution foreign aid from France. John Hancock was the loud mouthed merchant and money man who was sick and tired of the British taxes making him lose money. Patrick Henry was stubborn Scottish born attorney who cried, "No taxation without representation!"

In this play peppered with characters that the American education system waters down for the sake of time, we forget the voice. That would be Thomas Paine.

Yes, Thomas Paine, or TP as we called him in 9th grade. He was a British born sometimes homeless vagabond who was literally a professional revolutionary. Mr. Paine was a rebel without a cause long before James Dean dawned the leather jacket. Of course he found his cause, America. Mind you his revolutionary ideals were groundbreaking and long before their time. He was Marx and Engle, crafting pamplets readily available for people long before such a thing became a consideration. He was Che Guevara before he was even a thought let alone any of his ancestors. Thomas Paine was dedicated, matter of fact, vitriolic, and inspiring. While leaders encouraged their townsmen to take up arms, Thomas Paine's words put the weapons in their hand.

Thomas Paine's words were a challenge to the status quo. He encouraged America to break free from the tyrannical boot of King George III. Yes, the German born monarch from The House of Hanover who's inbreeding gave him both physical and mental problems. Yet this imbecile and his handlers who regularly took advantage of him, both revealed in historical hindsight, were given the divine right to rule. (I wish I were lying really and truly).

The Americans tried the easier, softer way. But King George was relentless in wanting to keep the colonists down and when the colonists took the civil steps to stick up for their rights, King George further punished them. That is when they said they would not accept nor would they tolerate. Thus began the American Revolution.

In hindsight, America was a crazy place during that time. Families were divided as sons took up arms against the crown, and others were loyal to the king. Native American tribes served as mercenaries for both sides, because the rouge government and the crown both made promises of land they never intended to deliver. In between were minutemen farmers who knew how to fire a rile poised beside overeducated city professionals who barely knew how to hold a gun taking arms against the government that oppressed them. Tired of being second class citizens, they would rather die free then live as enslaved victims of a king who ruled with an iron fist from afar.

Lest we forget The Sons of Liberty who had many Founding Fathers as members. Today they are celebrated as heroes. Then they were little more than a terrorist organization. They tarred and feathered tax collectors simply doing their jobs and burnt down Loyalist owned businesses.

The old saying goes, "One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter." It is ironic that we fight a war against terror when we have not looked at our own postage stamps lately. But yes, they were freedom fighters. Because of their struggle America exists as it does today.

Thomas Paine's words not only helped inspired a colonist led revolution, but also was the voice that kept them going when things looked bleak. For the first part of the war American minutemen got slaughtered by British soldiers literally as a sport. Battles were being lost and many were deserting. In "The Crisis" Thomas Paine speaks of the summer soldier and the sunshine patriot, freedom fighters who are gung ho when the cause is easy. However, his words encouraged them to keep fighting. He promised them it would get better. They just had to keep going just a little longer......

It cannot be said how many people continued as a member of The Continential Army because of Thomas Paine, or how many enlisted because of him. But sure enough, the colonist did not back down their revolt. They kept going. Sure enough, the tide did change. France, the eternal enemy of England in those days, gave aid out of spite. Baron Von Stuben, the Prussian General, helped the eager troops learn how to take the field like a true army. Washington soldiered on, determined to defeat generals born into wealth, and having no idea what it was like to be kicked solely because of where one was born.

America won her freedom. Yet Thomas Paine has no postage stamp or national holiday celebrating him. Whatever happened to this man?

Thomas Paine was a professional revolutionary. When France revoluted, he held a seat on the Revolutionary Tribunal. Supporting their cause, Thomas Paine further encouraged the people to strike down the concept of Divine Right. His words cheered the French as they beheaded Marie Antoinette, the Austrian Princess who thought it was not only beneath her to learn the language of the people she ruled, but insisted that starving people should "eat cake." He also enouraged the execution of Louis XVI, the weakling king who was divinely christened by the Lord to rule, yet had no clue on how to do so.

While this sounds brutal, and in many ways it is, the people of France had it far worse than the Americans. The rich got richer, the poor got poorer and they continued to starve and die as the aristocrats chomped on their bones. While World War I would be the final requiem knell to the concept on monarchy, divine right, and aristocrats feasting on the hard work of peasants, Thomas Paine would be the pen to take the first fatal blow to the concept.

Unfortunately, Thomas Paine made his share of enemies and was slated to be killed during The Reign of Terror. This being an occupational hazard of being a professional revolutionary, Thomas Paine willingly returned to America, the land of his first victory.

Living outside New York City, Mr. Paine wrote about the possibility of there being no God, and instead of enticing debate became a target for the wrathful Americans, those who's freedom his words helped secure. Just like today, many who cling to religion tend to be intolerant of those who are different, especially the non-believers. Rather than celebrate this man for his contributions and just chalking up his atheism to just a difference in principal, he was shunned.

Thomas Paine died alone. His funeral was sparcely attended. Buried in a pauper's grave, for years his bones were moved because when he finally got a stone it was vandalized. For years, his remains moved until it became a fact that part of him was in America, part in England, and part perhaps in France. Thomas Paine probably did not take being ostracized by those he helped personally. He suffered for his cause until the end. Other greats such as Ghandi and Malcolm X and even Yazik Rabin were killed by those they were trying to liberate. Yet, despite believing in no God, Thomas Paine gave selflessly. He wrote and risked execution on multiple occasions so people would not only believe they were entitled to an existence where their voices mattered, but that in fact it was their right. Unfortunately, there are only a handfull of such people and that is why there names are known in history. In the world were filled with more, it can be cliche and apt to say the world would be a better place.

His demise was safe and assuring for the Founding Fathers. Yes, the rich white members of the oligarchy, many who owned slaves and never dreamed of seeing women as equals. This atheistic revolutionary, unafraid of a fight, probably made them guard their pocket watches and money purses as more often than not he lived on the run. Thomas Paine would have challenged their owning of slaves and their treating of female companions as second class citizens. He would have cut them to size with their own logic. Thomas Paine was safer dead, because the longer the man stayed alive his thoughts and ideas truly become dangerous.

As Ted Cruz perverts the principals this country was founded upon live on The Republican debates, he dares call New Yorkers "Godless liberals." He spouts out hate in the guise of "Conservative Values." However, this Harvard and Princeton educated, hypocritical, talking head forgets that if it weren't for the words of Thomas Paine, a "Godless liberal," writing as he did America would probably not exist. Then Donald Trump screams of "making America great again." He forgets America is great and was since it's inception, because Thomas Paine encouraged the people to stand up to rich tyrants who feasted on the hardworking people like he does.

Thomas Paine's words have served as a guidepost too for other young activists in a myriad of causes. At one time it was against the law to help a slave escape, but even when it was dangerous The Underground Railroad continued to operate. Women did not have the right to vote let alone be educated, but because they continued to protest today we have women doctors, lawyers, professors, and statesmen. People of color were not seen as equals but today not only do they vote and have equal rights but we even have a black man as president. LGBTQ people were treated as less than human despite the fact they worked and paid taxes. Today not only can they marry, but laws protect them from hate crime discrimination. Each time, and in each cause, there was the temptation of young activists to be summer soldiers and sunshine patriots as there were deaf ears, set backs, and religion was sometimes even used as a weapon against them. But they continued to fight knowing it would get better.....and each time it did.

In turn, Thomas Paine's words have continued to inspire the oppressed all over the world. Not only does he assure them that being treated as a whole person is a right, but even from the grave he encourages them to revolt and make their dream a reality. He not only shaped America's philosophy, but has helped make us the go to place and the go to country for the rest of the world. When American troops come into a war torn country with people who have been under the control of a dictator or warlord, we tell them they can have democracy. And when it happens they have Thomas Paine to thank.

This man has no national holiday to commemorate him, nor does he have a postage stamp as I said earlier. Yet he probably would not have wanted one. Thomas Paine is probably in hell if you are Christian and damn atheists there. Or if you are a more progressive, spiritual person he is in heaven or the afterlife yucking it up about how he didn't think there was one and he was wrong. Or perhaps he is long gone, part of the Earth from hence he came.

Either way, last Friday, January 29 was his birthday. So wherever you are, TP, happy birthday as you perhaps float about in the Godless ether. While many do not celebrate you I do. Thank you for for being an author, the true yet uncelebrated backbone to any cause. Please know you inspired this writer and would be revolutionary.  

Fear and Loathing in the New Year

Winter is finally here, sneaky bitch. I don't like her and don't care for her. I freaking hate this time of year. Granted, I hate the crap leading up to Christmas, from the shopping to the usual round of familial drama. Which reject is going to jail and who is currently unmedicated that needs to be medicated. Who's fighting with who? Who will make this holiday awkward and God who do I resent?

But then something magical happens on Christmas. Even the family members you can't stand, you are glad to see them happy and healthy. You are glad to see people aren't claiming to be abducted by aliens and are on their proper meds. Life is good and you all enjoy a laugh. Then the New Year comes.

And then it just gets strange. It's like the circus set up on the small town football field, did their thing, and now they are on to the next stop. The field stands empty, looking abandoned and depressed like a chunky girl on prom night who ordered her own limo despite having no date. Nothing is happening. Everyone is doing their thing at half speed unsure of what is next. And then it's cold out.

What is worse is business is slow in my business. There is nothing much to do because people blew their money on Christmas and things just slow down. It's the time of year where my parents agonize over my life. It's always when I should go back to school for this or work for this person who has this job where you make lots of money and don't work hard. But said person usually turns out of be a poser. Or my mom calls freaking out about the fact I'm single and even signs me up for a dating site without my knowledge. The cold gets to everyone. Once I am working beyond my ability to concentrate they leave me alone. They roast my brother or sister......they way it should be, LOL.

Of course my sister is getting married. She's going to be in the hot seat for the next several months. Like my brother and I, she will not only get used to being in the shit house but might even buy property there. It's not that she's a bad kid. No. She's getting married.

I am currently having some drama with my bank, long story. It's not my fault (for once). It's amazing how some people can have their job and suck at it fucking up at every turn. Fired.....never. That is why it's amazing to me when people say they can't find work or won't work. I know plenty of people paid to do nothing. It's not that hard, really.

Either way, I go to Vegas soon and am excited. I got upgraded to first  class last week. Maybe things are looking up. Maybe I better stop being a cynical shithead.

Mom: When you laugh, the world laughs with you. When you cry, you cry alone.

Me: But Mom, it's fun being a cynical shithead.

Sigh.....