Have you ever seen a Facebook post where none of the little emoticons fit how it makes you feel? Or expresses the comments rolling around in your head? Of course you have!
A friend of mine posted this graphic today, and because it’s Sunday, my usual blog post writing day, I decided to comment.
Let’s see… not funny; angry doesn’t fit exactly. Not loving it for sure or even liking. Sad and caring, maybe. But it’s more like a fearful, disgusted and demoralized. Why aren’t there choices for ‘immediately sick to my soul’, ‘anxious and unsettled’?
What about this one? Texas lawmakers poised to pass sweeping voting bill to restrict voting hours and change election rulesread more and tell me it’s not frightening .
Or this: I get rather tired of all the “investigations” “impeachments” that result in nothing except money wasted,,, Specifically, “attack on the capital on Jan 6”. what is the purpose of a “special commission investigation?” It was illegal trespassing with intent to destroy property and possibly harm individuals. AND then Pres Trump encouraged this….just like his still complaining that the election was “stolen” from him…..Reasonably intelligent people already know what was going on and is continuing to go on. To me it is just an excuse for political individuals and others to pontificate. Yup, I’m getting older and crankier. Look to the future and do things that actually can accomplish something. I.E. Situations of homeless peoples, care of homeless veterans and medical care of all veterans, attacks on specific groups, Jews Asians etc My personal opinion. You may state yours. I will not engage in arguing with anyone.
I don’t know this person IRL but I tend to agree with her and someone needed to say it.
All we can do is hope to live long enough to see these anti-democratic/racist movements (cults) cease and desist, and democracy–real equality for all–thrive. This has been my dream since I was about 12 years old and started understanding what was really going on.
In defense of Facebook, it has been helpful and sometimes entertaining to connect with friends and family, especially over the past year and a half. I’ve been fairly good at unfollowing or blocking the anti-anything folks. Plus, exercises you can do in bed from Silver Sneakers!
Just a quick post today before continuing to cut and remove dead trees and other plants damaged in the Great Texas Snowmageddon.
The title of this post, ‘what do you remember from elementary school’ comes from a question asked on #Twitter this morning. It got me thinking. I attended four different elementary schools up thru the 6th grade. That’s the way it is with Army brats.
I attended Kindergarten and 1st grade in Iowa. I don’t remember much except I walked down a big hill to get there. In Kindergarten, we took naps on floor mats after lunch. At the same school, I learned to read in 1st grade and fell in love with books.
Second and 3rd grade was in Texas. Our 3rd grade teacher read us the “Wizard of Oz.” which became a life long favorite. I was able to walk to and from school and even came home for lunch. I stopped by the candy store in the afternoons for 5¢ treats. Horribly sugary stuff! I think we received our polio shots at school as well. Oh! and there was a Duncan YoYo salesman who came by and did tricks and then sold us yoyos. I actually got fairly good with one–all forgotten now.
Next, we moved to South Carolina. Again, I was able to walk to school cutting across several peoples’ front and back yards. How I learned that particular route is a mystery to me. My mother thought I wasn’t learning enough. So when we moved on base, I took the bus to Catholic school.
Now, we weren’t Catholic. In fact my folks only sent me there because the school was much better. We went to Mass every morning–still in Latin at that point. I prayed to Jesus and the Saints, and fainted during a High Mass with the Bishop. The nuns wanted me to convert, but I wasn’t having it. However, as one of life’s little ironies, later on I enjoyed working for 20+ years total with two different Congregations of Sisters. I also still pray for whomever the ambulance is rushing to save.
I’m convinced the older I get, the more it’s good brain exercise to remember things about my life. I was fortunate to experience many different people and places, travel and cultures, and interesting adventures. I’m not done yet either!!
Since Monday, weather in Texas has been really weird. It got really, really cold and snowy and wet and frozen. Then, it got worse. The electricity went out over most of the State. Not because of frozen windmills and the Green New Deal–which isn’t even really a thing, but because the State energy manager failed Management in a Crisis 101. Blame the State leaders who decided that our power management company should be separate and unregulated–which really means make money for the board, politicians and management and fuck the citizens.
In San Antonio where I live the power went off and on and off and on ad infinitum for several days. Then the water system, who must have felt left out, began losing pressure because of all the burst pipes and stopped or barely trickled. Now we’re boiling our drinking water–this is pretty much state-wide as well.
All this in the middle of a pandemic.
Oh, and did I mention the previous assault on the Capitol? Insurrectionists, anyone?
In my 73 years, I lived through a lot, but 2021 so far has taken the prize for weird shit happening.
On a good note, Rush Limbaugh died.
Also, plumbers and other tradespersons will make tons of money. Which, you know, is a good thing.
More weird shit: February 18. It’s actually snowing again!! Three inches and counting. We’ll be closed up for another two days.
I have two names–Mary and Laura. I was named Laura after my grandmother Laura Bell. My family called me ‘Laura’ from the beginning. But, my official first name is Mary. So every time I went to a new school, doctor’s office, anywhere they didn’t know me, I was called ‘Mary’. I used to hate it, and always corrected the perceived error. Now I just figure I have two first names and go with the flow. Laura Bell McEntire with me at about four years old.
Yesterday, I virtually attended a speaker series hosted by SA2020. Folks from right here in my San Antonio community spoke on a range of topics–pulling from their own passions and projects. Deborah Omowale Jarmon, Director and CEO of the San Antonio African American Community Archive and Museum, was an enthusiastic advocate for making sure we all tell our own stories. Her encouragement comes from the place of knowing how much the African American population’s stories has been ignored, lost or destroyed. Her task is to reclaim as much as possible of that history as it pertains to the San Antonio community. People with attitudes like this are who make me love my City.
Who are your parents, your grandparents? How did you come to be where you are? How did you become who you are? Who are the people or events in your life that influenced you? I thought, well I have a blog and I do tell my story, just maybe not enough. I always say to my family and friends, “If you want to know me, read my blog.” I’m fairly certain not so many actually do that. Oh well. It helps me record my past–something that seems important to me at my age.
Granny with my Aunt Marlene–still living in McGregor.
My grandmother Laura Bell Walton was from a small town in Texas near Gatesville called The Grove. She graduated from High School in McGregor, Texas in 1917. She lived there with her husband Ralph McEntire until he passed I think in 1961. She then moved to Abilene a few years later with her grown daughter, my Aunt Marlene, and family. Granny had book cases in the living room full of Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew and Bobbsey Twin books. Also, the somewhat bawdy Decameron by Boccaccio and Shakespeare’s play and many others. Throughout the years I read most of them. Granny and Papa also smoked, drank whisky and played cards with their friends. I used to like to listen to them talk and laugh. There was an outdoor shed always stocked with cases of 7Up, Coca Cola, Dr. Pepper and Ginger Ale bottles.
There’s a lot more but that can wait. This is a small blog after all. What’s your story?
One of my favorite lines is “if you remember the 60’s (or 70’s) you weren’t really there.” Well it seems plenty of us were really there and are remembering the Armadillo World Headquarters–that venerable music venue in Austin, Texas which was THE place to hear live music from 1970 through the early 1980’s.
Having been pointed in the direction of the ‘I Remember the Armadillo’ Facebook page by my brother Jack, I became an immediate fan. I proceeded to spend way too much time reading the posted memories, checking out the list of bands and dates they played, and creating my own nostalgic musing. Since my downstairs neighbors worked at the Armadillo, and would put me on the ‘list,” it seemed I was there every time the doors opened.
Just about every band or musician you ever heard of and, some you hadn’t, played at the ‘Dillo. Always the best audience, we gave a standing ovation for everyone—Ravi Shankar to Jerry Lee Lewis, Commander Cody to Frank Zappa, Freddy King to Boz Scaggs, and the list goes on. The Armadillo embodied everything about that era in Austin, the music, the camaraderie, the wafts of smoke (you know what I mean). But, it was definitely, first and foremost about the music for me.
So this weekend, I grooved to some of my old LPs, did a little dance and felt the love.