You and I might clash. I have a better idea. Help asap!

“When the white man turns tyrant it is his own freedom that he destroys.He becomes a sort of hollow,posing dummy,the conventional figure of a sahib.For it is the condition of his rule that he shall spend his life in trying to impress the “natives”,and so in every crisis he has got to do what the “natives” expect of him.He wears a mask and his face grows to fit it.”
― George Orwell

I consider myself a liberal when it comes to humans and suffering and since we can spend hundreds of billions on soon retired aircraft,  I get annoyed when Veteran’s Benefits are slashed because of the cost factor.   Too many are counting on robots and drones and such as a reason but invariably injuries are long-lasting and life-changing.   Athletes get richly compensated and their risks are nowhere near a soldier’s.

So the problem is the suffering is also a reflection of us collectively and I am not talking about socialism or worse,  I am talking about helping in other ways than just words.   And there are those doing and not just saying they are helping.

“There’s a saying that you can’t put a price on a human life, but that saying is a lie because we have. We have, and it’s so much lower than you would think. Yes, human life has its price like anything else, and will continue to do so for as long as it doubles as a commodity.”
― Nenia Campbell, Cease and Desist

I want people to understand this one very important point.  If you are a billionaire and in production of some sort then you hire people and those people may be retired or laid off.   Their fingers gnarled from the constant abuse of repetition and perhaps an unsavory boss.   This boss/owner goes him and for that family season’s greetings are easier.    Some hoever lose everything and very few to help out or even care.

It took Unions many times to get safer conditions and better pay.   To ward off the improbable accident or misfortune that at one time we never considered.   We surely can find fault with something that person has done and so we blindly legislate as a remedy for a symptom.

A 19 year old girl gets notice of her fiance dying in the Middle East and suddenly her life and the life of the parents are shattered.   Generals still sleep well and there is never enough compensation to recompence the newly indigent or those whose problems keep them second class citizens.   Second by what standard? Poverty,  medical bills,  Cancer,  Mother Nature,  Despots?

Not only does the Billionaire have electric all winter but at the expense of the withered hands of a widow or widower.

Does the Mother of a dead soldier see the name on a stocking and smile?   Do the generals stop by and offer condolences or send an emissary to pay their respects?   And the child dying of cancer,  where are those people who own a Nuclear Reactor who poisons for generations.   Where are they when a child is born with no legs or arms?   Where are the producers Malathion and the congenital birth defects and the toll that takes on a family?

Do we support ‘Make A Wish’,  ‘Give Kids the World’  or any other number of agencies who can provide relief?  And do we continue to support or grandstand or say we did enough?

http://www.sjbhealth.org/body_childrens.cfm?id=2305

The link above may shock many people but George Steinbrenner was a saint to the kids at the hospital which he paid for.

People who are different or people with a disabling condition.    Many tempt fate by a cavalier disregard for others until they are in a supine position counting off moments til the inevitable expiration of ego and all the rest.

We have shows like Criminal Minds or even SVU.   It is well and proper to prosecute the guilty but what is the fallout from legislation?   It sounds like a good thing until the human cost includes unintended consequences from the actions of well-meaning people.    At best legislation and lawsuits can temporarily bring some relief without a healing that is more complete.   Support Groups are generally run by lay people and it seems cures defer to treating symptoms but not the cause.

Cases of Irritable Bowel Disease is rampant among the Jewish populations after the Concentration Camps.  We have billionaires today still benefitting from the tragic loss of others to which many times there is no resource but a support group that meets once a month.

And felons,  from small time hoods to murderers and sex offenders,  it seems that sticking it to them also has consequences.    Our nation is becoming very self-centered and not aware of the effects of legislation and a lack of housing that follows offenders.    But by the grace of God go we.

To the left is a homeless advocate who helps.  A private young lady with a heart and the dear young ladies on the right whose elder years are feeding the young and hopeless,  the aged and the so-called profane criminals who sully our word?  <— being facetious about the felons.   Hell,  I might be a bad person myself!

But this badness in others and ourselves is no farther away than head trauma in an auto accident to drug abuse and hate crimes.   We have offenders who never got treatment or programs to head off their own particular brand of abuse.   Stopping the cycle is a humane test.  Not silly PSAs by corrupt nabobs in Hollywood or actors who feel an affinity to some cause.   Those offenders have families too and those unintended consequences are things they share in and suffer over?

Cops beating up old people and other such abuses are more a product of our own pride.   So instead of helping we actually use sentences to get cheap labor and then wonder why the marginally gifted feel alienated,  despondent and angry.   East to be hard!

The food with Shepard’s Chapel Soup Kitchen is catered and high quality and no one gets refused.   Otherwise who are we but jailers of a kind????

Shush Don’t Talk…

I haven’t either and it is almost six AM. Either I am a loser or have anxiety issues.

Shush Don't Talk...

Mental Health has always been a bit hush hush – but I’m going to try and change that by speaking out.

It’s currently 4.24am on a Monday Morning and I’ve still not had any shut-eye. I’ve got to get up for work soon and to be honest, I’ve lost my motivation.

I find it extremely hard to talk about myself without putting on a facade, a happy face – my ‘yeah I’m totally coping act‘ but that’s what it is – an act. But, why do we do this? Why must we all pretend we’re fine when we’re not.

I think there’s a few reasons: 1. I think we don’t want to bother anyone else with our issues. 2. We have no idea what to say – I mean where the hell do you start? 3. Fear of being judged – it’s as if we think any Mental…

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Sexism. Same as it ever was. Same as it will ever be. Unless!

I saw a blog that needs some kudos and some elaboration.    While we have lots of new stories and a lot of laws we get little else.   And for those who make it a feminist issue only you need to check into the Betty Ford Clinic because you are part of the problem.    The blog below is good because it hits upon the very nexus that is needed to effect real change.

http://feministssa.com/2015/02/23/why-the-casual-sexism-at-uct-matters/#comment-11887

“Any man that alludes to women as whore. sluts or any of those terms piss me off. It is sexism at it’s worse and women who use those words are committing the same act of sexism.

Why does it matter? Is liking asking she asked for ‘it’. We had this debate about 20 years ago when a Miami prostitute was wearing see-through clothes. The rapists said she was asking for ‘it’.

I called the radio station and claimed that women were and are subject to an “inherent sexual bias”. In effect saying that guys can be whores but that girls really are. Words do matter and young children may begin to repeat the lies.

Is it any wonder then that we excuse this? Is it any wonder that a rape happens then the rapist is allowed to barter legally and the best a woman can get is a civil suit?

So, at the end of the day what has changed? Laws look pretty like the “whores” they allege to protect. I use that term for effect since it is the continued and prevailing attitude among males and our system of jurisprudence.

Look at rape or any other form of abuse and we get laws. Nothing but a cash crop with a bunch of broken women and the harassment associated with just going with the flow.

This is a good blog because it underscores in sexual terms a kind of free-floating bias against victims.”

The comment above is one I made in response and the one below the one case that I was alluding to from Florida.   How does this happen and how will it change the future?  In another case an immigrant was assaulted and justice was served but the underlying issue was “she deserved it”.

http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2010/12/vanishing-blonde-201012

Don’t get me wrong.  Offenders should be made to pay but a greater emphasis should be made to alter perceptions and how our responses color our perceptions since we were little kids.   ‘Experts’ disagree as to what age we stop forming our personality from about three to seven years of age.    Given that,  what can we do?

We cannot control everyone twenty-four hours a day but it is painfully obvious we are not making a lot of tangible progress.  How do we preserve the natural instinct of men and women and still have respectfulness?   Sexuality is not just a cognitive process.    We have our perceptions and our instincts.

“According to this model of the psyche, the id is the set of uncoordinated instinctual trends; the super-ego plays the critical and moralizing role; and the ego is the organized, realistic part that mediates between the desires of the id and the super-ego.”

Id, ego and super-ego – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Id,_ego_and_super-ego

This is the template and our lives,  our conditions are predicated on interactions.    One thing I have a problem is are those commercials where actors and athletes basically say,  enough is enough.

Dana Voreskov :

“No More fawning, pandering, spineless, celebrities trying to show the world how wonderfully “enlightened” and “progressive” they are and trampling all over the remains of their own dignity in the process.

No More infantilizing women and demonizing men.
No More feminist propaganda.”

Still what do these PSAs do?   And who are these people?   What have they done?   Most importantly,  what is the message and how can it be fixed?    Do laws fix our problems or enrich the legal system, estrange people and make people paranoid of each other?     As long as we pontificate,  hand-wring and make hyperbolic gestures,  focus is diverted from the problem and that is respect for each other.

From Wikipedia

“Barefoot and pregnant” is a figure of speech most commonly associated with the controversial idea that women should not work outside the home and should have many children during their reproductive years. It has several other meanings as well.

The phrase “barefoot and pregnant” seems to have been introduced in the early twentieth century by Arthur E. Hertzler, the Horse-and-Buggy Doctor’ from Kansas: “’The only way to keep a woman happy,’ he said, ‘is to keep her barefoot and pregnant.’”^[1] By mid-century, the phrase had passed into common parlance, so that an article from 1949 states, “By early 1949, TWA was—in the words of its new president, Ralph S. Damon—both ‘barefoot and pregnant.'”^[2]

The variation “barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen” has been associated with the phrase “Kinder, Küche, Kirche” (translated “children, kitchen, church”), used under the German Empire to describe a woman’s role in society. A comparable phrase, “Good Wife, Wise Mother“, emerged in the 1870s in Meiji Japan, and was used as a means of restricting female access to the public realm there,^[3] before spreading more widely in East Asian culture.^[4]

All men are a stereotype to some feminists with absolutely no redeeming value and nothing to contribute.   The men who have doting wives who are depicted as permanently emotionally disabled.        From the Burning Bed to Archie Bunker and his Edith,  they are secondary and mere props and sexual objects in the case of Farrah Fawcett.

There is a lot of fail here and yet,  there are those women who become accustomed and go with the flow as much as Carmela and Tony Soprano.   We have Charlie Sheen and his tiger blood,  being elevated to a status of drug abuser and self-admitted ‘whore mongerer.”    No more what Charlie?    House Arrest?

Girls were girls and men were men?   Today we have teens and politicians sexting and we have more Laws.  What have those laws done?      More sex offenders?   All the while the number of incidents increase.   America and the world portray sexuality being on the verge of illicit boundaries codified with Judges with teenaged girls and boys.

Then we have Miss Phoebe Cates and boobage while Judge Rheinhold finds himself pining for the perfect girl.   The confluence of reality and embarrassment.    The gray areas become diffuse and yet scenes of date rape and exploitation meld into the minds of young adolescent boys and girls.

And the race to deflower young women is all over the place.   From Hermoine, and the Olson Twins to Hannah Montana and Taissa Farmiga the race to show their nude bodies or in sex scenes and scandals.     It is like Barely Legal Magazine for young actresses.   Taissa was depicted as a minor and in one episode she was having sex with a patient while he was dying.   Kind of brutal with an explanation point.

You see,  hormone-driven adolescents and middle-aged lurkers think about their conquests against those considered as easy.    Two different messages being sent with exploitation of sexuality and the craven desires of Hollywood and musicians.

The answer is to respectfully introduce each gender with realistic views of what makes us human and down playing depravity or simply to examine ourselves.   This is not meant to be male-bashing but to examine where we are and where we are going with respect to each other.

Maybe counseling new parents and expecting parents on how to act around children and even pregnant women so as not to traumatize children and infants.

Let’s start treating each other better.   Let’s feed one another and a safe warm place to be.   That adult was a baby at one time and I think the adult should not be just a statistic for Social Security purposes.   Radical feminists need a change of heart and men who harass and debase women need to learn early our biological differences and respect for those differences.

Not to demonize women or men but to teach the Golden Rule.    That starts early and is a lifelong process.   We can not afford to be merciful,  to the sick, depraved or poor.   We need to do our part in making this country safe and be strong enough to lead to a better tomorrow.    No more hatred directed to anyone whether they be straight, gay,  military or civilian,  adult and child.    Can we evolve?

http://www.unitedwayla.org/2012/05/rachel-fleischer-talks-about-her-movie-without-a-home-and-addressing-homelessness-in-los-angeles/

Let’s stop scandalizing sex and avoiding real help to real people,   they are everywhere and denying this contributes to the pain caused to women around the world.

Our Lives Matter

This makes many fine points and should be read by everyone.

Silly Love Songs

The moment of awareness of sexuality comes with vistas not before imagined.    Kind of like in the Wonder Years and I was about to find my own Winnie Cooper.

.   But this process was painful and at times I felt like I was watching a show from behind a sound-proof glass.  I was in love with a few girls and a few could see behind the two-way mirrors.    Music was a way to escape and so naturally certain songs were buoyant,  light-hearted and romantic in a way that fit with my own personality.

So I cringe at terms like one-hit wonders, bubble-gum music and silly love longs.   Paul McCartney nailed it and even John Lenin and Yoko Ono proved that commercialized music may not be all that bad.    For me it was Day After Day by Bad Finger and  I pined for a cute little idealistic blond teen.  I remember that we went on a date to the Paddock Room and I stammered and stumbled and was probably incoherent but it was a date and it became news around the school.    One of her friends found out we went out on a date and said that I had the hots for her!  And I did.   I fumbled that ball a few times but years later the ball was back in my hands and I fumbled it yet again.

“What she had realised was that love was that moment when your heart was about to burst.”
― Stieg Larsson, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

She basically told me one day long after High School  that I already found what I was looking for.   Her!   I was confused and botched that badly but she still really liked me,  just a bit concerned that I missed the obvious clues.   It was like I found the pot of gold but just stared at it and then walked away.

The old High School was a special place where we would play basketball on a court that had a shallow ceiling so you had to shoot a somewhat flat shot.  Oddly enough they used to play Varsity Basketball games on that cozy little court.  The place had the old building scent which wafted through it’s halls and hinted at love and life and where in the gutters floated love notes and old trees cried out.

“What she had realised was that love was that moment when your heart was about to burst.”
― Stieg Larsson, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

One night Mom drove me to the old school and there she was in the crowd still yet coming into focus.  She was pretty as a Blue Jay and wobbly as a colt,  I saw her skating across the ice when she suddenly saw me and smiled.   It was a soft invitation and I took advantage of that opportunity to say “Hi” to her.   I was a terrible skater and was very skilled at falling down.   Noticing that she grabbed my hands and steadied me.   I was in heaven.    The warmth of her body and the prospects of something more filled my mind with curious and yet predictable emotions.

As a side note,  I did have a first love.    The kind where you smile at each other meant you were going steady…LOL

I did have a sixth grade girlfriend named Cheryl and during the fall festival and play I was a paper-machete pumpkin with a green hat that looked like a stem.    Sitting inert on the stage until my cue,  I was rather inspicuous.  Afterwards I dressed in a suit and tie we danced and for some reason it seemed that all the parents with little girls was smitten by me and I had serious game in spite of my shyness.    I had ton of pictures taken by parents and this was more fun than square dancing in gym class.

Next year I was in upstate NY in a very strange place,   where the community was named after our family Ellistown in Barton, NY outside of Waverly and on Ellistown Road.    We moved to the old Brink’s Greenhouse and their fading history replete with a caretaker’s house that become home to hundreds of wasps and other incendiary insects.   My parents found Rhubarb though I had never heard of that before.

 

On my first day in homeroom class the teacher accosted poor Ann R. with a comment about the contraband in her mouth. (gum).    I think we were more perplexed about the word (contraband) and I was pondering Ann’s abject humiliation and embarrassment…..

Even at that point were the Freudian connection with her plight and my trying to remain as anonymous as possible.   Things were a bit discomfiting as I was elected to the Student Council for our homeroom.    An honor that I was both proud of and embarrassed by.    I got the feeling the election was more of a joke than an honor.

So the music does play a role in the development of our higher needs.    Merely dismissing out of hand any song because of what some people consider to be corny or not deep is ridiculous.    These songs do get overplayed but that isn’t the artist fault and sometimes the DJ’s either.    From Seasons In The Sun to Sugar Sugar by the Archies,  these iconic pops songs transcended the Rock N Roll critics scorn and embedded themselves in the psyche of our frontal lobes.   These radio voices were our muses and they live forever and a day.

I think it is funny when the rock jocks,  those middle-aged men dressed in black whine about superficial pop songs while wailing on a Fender Stratocaster as their own aging bodies and receding hairlines and pony tails are stuck in a past to be forgotten like an old Class Yearbook and High Times Magazine.     Between have Lava Lamps,  Mood Rings and Chia Pets there are far worse diversions than a Bobby Goldsboro song like Honey.    It is too sappy but Two Live Crew exploits carnal depravity.    Dude,  where’s My Viagra and remote.

or this…..

Honesty

I upgraded and thank you very much.

Black History Month & the Greatest Pitcher Ever – Bob Gibson

My favorite baseball player is almost 80 years old next November.    He is about five weeks older than my mother and regardless of the fact that he does NOT know me,   he is my role model,  my baseball idol and a man of great character.

I feel that too many times Jackie Robinson is hailed as the great trailblazer of equal rights.   But Mr. Gibson himself grew up in one of the most dangerous ghettos in America…   Cabrini Green.    His own father died about three months before Bob was born and his brother who was some 15 years older was a kind of mentor.

The song above is probably my favorite from Elvis and conveys the hard reality of disadvantage and self-destructive behaviors.     Growing up in Texas in a segregated neighborhood it seemed that integration was happening and no one had to tell us racism was wrong.   How is it little kids can figure out.   One day this black boy came across me and asked his friends,  “Who is this peckerwood?”     One of my friends from that run down place called the young black child out and told him I was his friend.

Racism was very real but the good part of that change was not a slogan or a gimmick,   we had real problems in our country.   We had Little Rock Hall and the protest of the brave young black students.    I was one year old as this cauldron was beginning to boil over and an ugly scene ensued.

This young lady was a hero and young kids of all races were angry at the over racism and Jim Crowe Laws that permeated the nation and especially  the South.    It was this that the young Cardinal star had to deal with and he did so relatively easily as was his character never to lose at anything.

Gibson had rickets and asthma as a kid and yet become a good basketball player,  averaging 22ppg as a senior in high school.   After that he went on to be an All-American  basketball player at Creighton University.    And from there the Harlem Globetrotters and finally signed with the St. Louis Cardinals.

When pitching for the St. Louis Cardinals in spring training,  black players were not allowed to stay in the hotel that was white only.    Eventually the Cardinals organization fixed that problem.    Imagine being the superstar pitcher in the second best baseball organization and then being spit at in Florida.

The rough life growing up and his competitive nature made him a force in the game and he set one record that is still a record fifty or so years later.   (1.12) over 300 strikeouts and 13 shutouts with 22 wins.    He was a prolific hitter also bashing 24 Homeruns and 144 RBIs.   During the day there were not a lot of televised games and especially the Cardinals so I would listen to KMOX in St. Louis while we were living in upstate NY.      I loved and was proud when watching him pitch and would emulate his pitching delivery.

Mr Gibson like Hank Aaron survived the rigors that racism and hate with class and strength.   One time his catcher Tim McCarver ( a really good one) came to the mound and Gibson, “told him the only thing McCarver knew about hitting was he couldn’t.”

He was known for a blistering fastball and an awesome curve.    When he retired I felt such a deep sadness on a variety of levels.    As the years have passed fans revere him as a classy human and one of the greatest pitchers and one of only a few black pitchers.      So my looking up to him is influenced by so many factors.    I refused to lose and invariably I came through in the clutch every so often.   That included beating an undefeated wrestler in a state tournament,     and an unassisted triple play.    The baseball coach told my little brother that he had large shoes to fill.

I was born in a turbulent time with wars,   bitter conflicts racial and otherwise so I take a dim view of blacks using slavery as a crutch and so do the stars,   businessmen and fathers who do the right thing and do represent the status quo,   There is a lot of work and Ferguson roiled the waters and I am not going to be political but to say,  we collectively have to see each others as valuable as ourselves if not more.

This is a condensed version of my love and respect for this great man and served as a role model to black and white kids.

Incomodious Odes

It is pleasing to be pleased AND more than desirable to be desired.   To be desirous of being another one is  better than being a Kate in the Bush or rather two Kates or Phoebe Cates is a conundrums or two out of a pool.

Does the smell of a sagacious skunk offset it’s perspicacious  nature and esoteric wit?   Does the dying flower die to be on it’s own grave?   Is Willy Wonka a policy wonk or a Hershey’s kiss desired?

Every rose has it’s scones and every Knight has his flower,  so by that are we to assume,  that a stinky rose’s prick a knife?  Just wondering my friends….   I guess that makes me wonder what I am not sure.

Weather Forensics: The Science of Weather Observing. Not playing the game.

Well as forecasted by me the NWS and their minions who use vagueness and then claim accuracy are hilarious. To wit: The part of NC I am from is expecting 2-4 inches (possible). Hahah, they went from rain, to precip. From precip to 1-2 inches to 2-4 inches. More than most I get the difficulty but I find this kind of cagey and dishonest. Not sure if we are getting our power back tonight but they need to hurry because 14 degree temperatures suck when you have no heat.

Floyd, Times Are Changin

I am often amused at the Man-made Global Warming Entourage and that includes the king of nitwits,   Bill Nye,  the political scientist.   One of my reasons for leaving the service was some leaders insistence in toying with Atmospheric Physics and putting innocent lives at stake.

Two things I often observe is what I call the ‘Picnic Forecast’.    TV stations will fudge  solid Meteorological reasoning for appeasing weekend  picnickers.    The problem is that your credibility gets shot in the foot and your claims to caring about your listeners goes out the window.

A Trof of colder air is moving southward being aided by a 120kt jet stream that is bringing temperatures as much as 30-50 degrees Fahrenheit below normal.   On it’s own cold dry air does not permit for snow or precipitation of any kind.    So cold air is just part of the equation.  …

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She Fell in Love. Can’t be help responsible!

Back in 1974,  I was a kid,   only 18 years and probably was witness in some way to a date rape.   It sure felt like it because as I was leaving out the dorm that night,  guys were pulling a train on a teen girl and some guy asked me if I wanted to have ‘some.’   I said, “no.”   And besides,  the choice of words haunts me too as well as the whimpering that went along with her disorientation.

I was so naive but a part of my soul has been tortured to this very day.   If I knew then what I know now,   I might have gone postal because I cannot imagine a crime worse than that.     You see,   she was drunk and whimpering.   Damnit.   That really pisses me off.  No girl asks for ‘it.’   Not for that.

 

But date rape characterizations are nothing new and for the longest time just generally accepted.   In the movie ‘Animal House’  the guy was contemplating having sex with a passed out underage girl.    Did she ask for it?  NO! Does it happen?   Hell ya!   Is it any wonder so many women want to spread the pain around.

Going a few years into my adult life,   I had a girl friend and she was given a roofie.    The net effect according to her,  was she never felt the same about anything!    Date-raped by her boss at the mall.   She and I went through hell afterwards and my anger @ jerkoffs intensifies.    My girlfriend was only pieces of ceramic,   like Humpty-Dumpty,  those pieces can’t always be fixed.

I suffer too,  knowing that seedy men with seditious desires lay in wait,   like Jack The Ripper or the Boston Strangler.   In these instances the pain is far worse than death.    It is a slow blood-letting of one’s spirit and sense of control.    We had great times and every once in awhile we would talk.

From her bosses abuse of her,  of us really,   she went on a self-destructive binge with an older guy who was a criminal.   Arrested for a crack ball and spending time in prison,   he seemed to like finding young victims.   Her sister said he liked to read magazines like ‘Barely Legal’ and ’18’.      Yeah one of those!    One day her sister gave me a journal she had written and she had talked to her sister about the parasite she was with and how she missed me and my steady decisions and what would I do in a particular situation.   She said I am the guy that returns the shopping cart.    For awhile I was miffed by that but then got the gist of what she was trying to express.     She also got a disease from this miscreant,   Herpes!

(She fell in love in the first place)))

For some reason these words tick me off.    An otherwise innocent girl and not perfect by any  means,   paid the price for both of you and you both should be ashamed.     And I harbor guilt for not being able to protect her from the smarmy underbelly of the beast that lurks with a touch of wind and a wiff of illicit drugs.

If her mom had not been a prostitute and subjected her to so much,   she might have been able to cry on her shoulders.    She could have  told her Mom what he said and did  and your Mom would turn away.   Flushed with anger and disappointment,  words she heard once upon a time. Now reverberating like a song that plays over and over on a music box.   The ballerina fell suddenly and her porcelain dreams laid like a million shards of what ifs.

So let’s examine some of the dubious comments made by men and boys and mostly they are one and the same.     Your high school heroes and high society icons flickered as capriciously as the stories of high school football players and date rapes.   The bottom-line being the reputation of the boys and a girl who was allegedly asking for it.    She was collateral damage in the game of cat and mouse.

He gave you wine or drugs and told you it was okay.    He promised you everything to dance in the sheets and tomorrow he denies that he even knew you or the things you said,  you couldn’t have meant,  if you did say them….

Their friends and influences probably had mixed emotions about the destruction,   from the boss to the drug abusing narcissist whose real romance is a synthetic cesspool of misery.   Both now share in a common malady with excuses and no care for the damage they were doing.

What once was a fairy tale happiness transmogrified into a hellish world of missed chances.   Where lightning does strike over and over again(in the same place) and the pain still flows,  if even now to more or less a trickle.     In the video above  Boy Meets Girl they dance and sing with a love that we all want and yet finally,  even they play a requiem to a love gone strange.     To me,   as I worked in the media in Tampa,   the song was a fresh time.   A promise.   Together with Paula Abdul’s ‘Straight up’,  it seemed life had spectacular promise,  even after a lost preemie and the mother who ran off for a decade and a half with our daughter.

But life has second chances even if those chances require some modifications to retrofit them to make them work.    I do remember what my daughter said about her 16th birthday and how much she loved me.   That that was her best birthday ever.   This after being lost to me from her early post natal days to about fifteen years later.    Still,   I would NOT change things too much because what if we never rediscovered that and that is why the blog about ‘Ten Years a Single Mother’  and her kids love for her touches my heart.   Kids get the connections and their love is pure if they are loved.

The theme of this entire post is what are we going to do.    Rather than just complain about the pain,  how can we fix a thing?   You,   I and many others have lived on both sides of the track and nothing……  nothing gets fixed by complaining.    We need to put people first because a warm place and a hot dinner matters.

To the abuse of women,  children and the vulnerable,   you and I can change the world.    I have a few things going now.    One is to get Emotional Support Animals and Service Pets for people who need them.    Let’s teach men and society in general how to treat a lady and your kids.    We need to focus on identifying potential abuse and treat the family not a case number but take care of it as a village.  With compassion.    No tolerance policies does not heal a family.    Making rules is what politicians do.   Why do we punish people like Aileen Wuornos the way we do?   Why not find out where at-risk people are and help?   That gives us all a better chance of surviving the obstacles in life.

From murderers to offenders of all kinds,   punishment is the easy part,   preventing tragedies can happen and should happen.    That takes  more than a Breathalyzer and seeing if you can walk a straight line.    How much better will this world be with solutions and not grandstanding politicians and other nabobs using the moment for  personal gain.

Education is the key to everything.   Not just laws but helping people be better people.    Not projecting how good we are,  but how good we can all be,  if we just try.   Ghettos are going nowhere and neither are the homeless,  the drug users and other kinds of abusers.   Let’s get this done and stop maligning others.    The old speck and the log thing.