Saturday, April 10, 2010

City of Hope

It's a hospital in Pasadena.  A really GOOD hospital. 

Cancer is their specialty.

The physicians are experts in their field(s).  Consequently, they flock to the place.

So...this guy I know had his appointment with Dr. Kawachi yesterday.  I call him Dr. Hibachi.  It's not that I'm irreverant, I adore Hibachi's.

I did the research. It's all going to work out fine.  My guy doesn't know how much I worry.  I lie to him, endlessly.I get upset, act foolish, drink wine and embarass myself over the issue.  He has no idea that my fear guides me lately.

He's made it clear he doesn't need me now that it's all squared away.  In my mind's eye I can see my father and how small he appeared in the hospital bed....he seemed to shrink. A few days later...he wasn't there.

My old boyfriend shrank too when he was in the hospital.  It made me feel protective.  I was there, I held his hand. I grasped his arm from the wheelchair and put him in my car.  I paid the valet (it was a swanky hospital) and I turned up the heat.

Then, when I was in the hospital...I must not have shrunk because I was not on the receiving end of protection.   As if my momentary vulnerability made me anathema to him. When he drove me home he took the top down on the convertible as if we were in a parade.  Sun glaring and me doubled over in pain. To this day he thinks I broke up with him because he put the top down on the convertible.

Being a woman is different then being a man.  As a women, you can't show real weakness.  Fake weakness, perhaps.  Blond bimbo weakness (because it's manufactured) just not real weakness.

When I visited my mother in the hospital, she didn't shrink.  She got bigger.  She started wondering around the sterile halls in the cute green jogging outfit I purchased for her.  Maybe she could do that because she knew I was there to protect her.   Under my watchfull eye...she was safe.

Who is watching over me?  The answer is...nobody.

That's just life. It's a rollercoaster of opportunites missed and grabbed.

Friday, April 9, 2010


Hello class.

Let's talk about Muslims,shall we?

Do you know any folks of this particular persuasion?

I didn't think so.

You've probably met them, you just didn't know it.

They drive cars, they don't get traffic tickets, they repair your water heater and shake your hand.

I've met a few, one is on my doorstep now. 

I know about his religion because we discussed it, formerly. He wouldn't dare mention it now.

Don't be afraid of Muslims.  One is repairing my water heater and the one before him took one look at me and said, "I am just now seeing you. Allah told to me to help you pass your car on the smog test:".

And so he did. I passed because he was an engineer in his country and was capapble of tricking the smog test aparatus.He had a PHD in mechancial engineering.  When he arrived in this country he could not find work.  He opened up a garage.

I wondered why he had bothered to be kind and he replied, "In my religion, the sins of the father revisit the son.  If I am kind to you pehaps you will, someday, be kind to my son."

Go ahead, hate on some Muslims...but I'm not going with you.

Women in Church

Do you ever wonder at the absence of women in the Catholic religion?

Women used to be there...but were eliminated.

Priests, even Popes had lady friends and wives.

The back story is the Catholic church eliminated women to prevent the affluence of the church from dissipating.  If a married priest died his property transferred to his wife and family...away from the Church.

Celibacy ensured there would be no property transfer. It was called "God's will".

I don't think God gave people "parts" he didn't intend them to use.

Today, we respect the crimes of men.  You can't go to the Gynocologist (if he's a man) without a woman in the room.

The media referrs to what Catholic priests have participated in as "sex scandals".

But let's name it correctly: "Sex crimes".

My point?  Just that you notice how language is used to re-frame reality.  In this case, soften the blows committed by these men.  (As if they need to be protected.) It's a scandal of course, but the real scandal is nobody seems to be naming these actions adequately.  I'm a little scandalous because I refuse to wear my seatbelt but...

In a criminal courtroom there are victims.

As an injured child, you have to sue the priest in order to find justice. The monetary. If you don't have money to hire an justice for you. 

The lawsuits are handled in a Civil manner when, in my opinon, the police should be involved.  The police we pay to protect us.  But where are the police? "

Oh yea, they're busy giving me tickets for not wearing my seat belt.

"Good Morning officer, that's a shiny new car you're driving...I'm glad my tax dollars paid for it. Wha? You're giving me a ticket?"

I'm on my third seatbelt infraction and, based on the fines, stimulating the economy.  No need to thank me.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

He Won't Just Show Up on Your Doorstep

That's what they say about men.

But it's not true. They do show up on doorsteps. It's happened more then once. (Again today).

They knock on your door out of nowhere, climb the steps...

But so do racoons and mice.

Most times they are genuous, caring blokes...but sometimes they are not. 

You have to locate your broom and chase them away.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

I Don't Like Popes.

Maybe it's their funny hats.  Maybe it's because they wear dresses.

...and wedding rings.

I just don't like them. 

They look evil. Lecherous, actually.  It's in the eyes.

Oh and, they cover up the fact that their employees, priests, molest children. 
This is my Easter message.

Friday, April 2, 2010

The "P" Word.

I'm not a big fan of the P word.  It's like the N word, for women.  It exists for one reason: to humiliate and insult.

Don't get me wrong.  I love insulting people.

There are other words, like ass-hole. Ubiquitous words that apply to all of mankind.  Behavior based.  The P word targets women.  The N word targets people of color.They are extra offensive because they insult on the presumption the target is inherently bad.

It's probably safe to say a white man coined both words.

What's the insulting term for a white man? There isn't one.

I have great respect for the power of language.  We think with words.  If no word exists for "bad white man" how does one express quickly? 

One doesn't.  

Imagine my suprise in driving past a sign combining my favorite phrase "politcally correct" (which I'm not) with my most abhorred? Don't ask me the meaning of the hand gesture I'm making. It's my "I'm-a-bad-ass" sign.

I'm certain it means something awful like, "Go Long Horns".