Once upon a Time on Facebook

“It’s time for the American people to take back our USA!”—Facebook Post

Take back “our America...Take it back, from—whom? Who came and stole our America? Perhaps we gave it away—traded it for some magic technology beans, for bread and circuses; for stuff, and things, and more.

Perhaps our American ran away from home, got sick of our nonsense and longed for the open road. “YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF AMERICA!” she cried. Doors slam. Windows break. Tears. Tear gas. Broken bodies of those who would have justice—to whom equality is just a dream. America, struggling to grow up.

Where does our America live? What zip code does she call home? Does America have a home? Homeless America, too many of us, broke or sick, addicted, or haunted.

Or is it the American Road Show—appearing contentious, unable to stay on one continent—circling the globe—fighting her demons, but doing it abroad. Our America, her better angels taking flight…missiles by dawn’s early light. And when we come home, our demons come with us.

Our America you say? What does she look like?

Seriously. I wonder if I know her at all.

Our America. When was she ours?

When we waded ashore and wrapped up her First Peoples in blankets of death? Was she ours, when we built her with blood and sweat, from the ground up? The blood and sweat and stolen labor of people we enslaved? Was she ours then?

When was America our America? When did she stop? When we grabbed her by the —-?? Well, you get my drift. But she was asking for it. Wasn’t she?

We made America great! Once? What did that look like, I wonder? When America was great, when she was ours, when —when was that, exactly? When did she stop?

America, “My America,” is more an idea, than ideal. My America is still becoming—she is still being born, and some times, brother, let me tell you—-birth is messy. It is bloody, it is sh***y, and beautiful, and painful, and all of those things at once.

I don’t want to take her back—I want to push forward. I want some thing BIGGER. I want something BETTER than whatever “same as it ever was” was like.

I want an Our America —for All of Us.

Happy Birthday America.

Thinking of Lanston Hughs--Let America Be America Again
https://poets.org/poem/let-america-be-america-again

Hack Proof Perhaps, Not Puppy Proof

There seems to be a lot of people getting hacked on Facebook recently. And while I can sympathize with their plight, there is a small part of me that feels kind of smug about my unhackable password. After all, I know better than to use “Password” as my password—at least since 2005. That smugness lasted until I got an e-mail notification from Microsoft saying that they had detected something “unusual” about a recent sign-in—suggesting that I verify that I had, in fact, been attempting to sign in from a new location. Specifically, trying to buy certain goods and services in Copenhagen. Which, Gentle Reader, I assure you I had NOT.

So, I went to my Microsoft account and went through the multiple verification steps to verify that I was me, continue to be me, and would like to change my password. I thought long and hard about what I would like my new password to be...Password123? PasswordXYZ? Something unhackable, something cool, something123XYZ...I spent a lot of time on my selection and I’m proud to tell you I came up with a hack proof password. Nobody is signing into my account!

Not even me, as I have spent the last 20 minutes trying to remember what my unhackable password IS. Which is a real bummer, as I met this totally cool Nigerian Prince on line and we seemed to really hit it off...

I am a RETRIEVER. Also a confetti maker.
I am a VERY GOOD GIRL.

In other news, Mexico is lovely this time of year. At least that’s what my kids tell me. I wouldn’t know, as I’m home puppy sitting my grand dog Millie. Millie is now a year old and as sweet as she can be. She’s very helpful and brings me all kinds of things I didn’t even know I had lost. And if I feel bad about all the used Kleenex she’s retrieved from the trash and turned into confetti, she’s right there to climb into my lap and comfort me.

Strange Bedfellows

     We live in interesting times, that’s for sure. As we head towards November, two Big Important Issues are weighing heavily on nearly everyone’s minds---it was THREE Big Important Issues but the recent frost has ended one of the reasons I was lying awake at night, unable to sleep. The change in weather has mercifully put an end to Zucchini Season, and I no longer have to sleep with one eye open, ever vigilant against pranksters dumping wheelbarrow loads of zucchini on my front steps.

Now we are down to two Big Important Issues: Hunting Season and the Presidential Elections. You might be asking yourself what these two, seemingly unrelated, events both have in common. I noticed that as each draws closer the tension surrounding the participants ramps up---Buck Fever, Ballot Fervor---both tend to put a crazy gleam in the eye, cause one to talk excessively about treasured beliefs that often have no basis in fact, say things that are obviously gross exaggerations and generally just be obnoxious as all get out. And that’s just Buck (or Bull) Fever. Ballot Fervor can be even worse.

Ballot Fervor seems to be generating a lot of fear this year. Everywhere I look---well, just Facebook actually, gotta fact check myself here--- I see people in the grip of fear. And I have to remind myself that “perfect love casts out all fear.”

I believe in the GOODNESS of people. I REFUSE to give into fear. Regardless of the outcome of the election---I believe in America, in my fellow Americans, and my neighbors...I believe that Love is stronger than hate, that people can hold a different opinion from mine, and "still be good people", that fear should not rule or divide us.

No matter what, we are Americans---more importantly we are all humans. We WILL work together, because the ties that bond us together are GREATER than those that separate us. “...And the Greatest of these is Love.”

So to those of you with Ballot Fervor, I wish you Perfect Peace.

To those of you with Buck Fever, I wish for you Perfect Aim. 

And gravy. 

Lots and lots of gravy.