You guys read my blog and often rail with me against the stupidity we are seeing in our political discussions. And it does my heart good.
Tonight, I’m going to show you how some folks in Troy, Michigan, fought the Tea Party with inspiring brilliance, reverse psychology and humor.
You folks in Troy, Michigan? You seriously rock!
I found out about this story at Crooks and Liars.com, where I find a lot of interesting things. Thanks, you guys. You rock too.
How can you have a discussion about something without mentioning it? Without calling it by its name? Without calling a spade a spade or a vagina a vagina?
Because that’s what happened in the Michigan State Senate. No, no, no, it didn’t happen during the reign of Queen Victoria.
Alive and well, apparently
No it happened Wednesday, June 13. 2012. Michigan State Rep. Lisa Brown said the word “vagina.” It’s true. Imagine that! During a debate on abortion, she uttered the “V” word right there on the floor of the legislature and was banned from speaking, from offering amendments, from doing her job.
According to a story in The Detroit News,
Majority Floor Leader Jim Stamas, R-Midland, determined Brown’s comments violated the decorum of the House, said Ari Adler, spokesman for the Republican majority.
And other Republicans agreed:
“What she said was offensive,” said Rep. Mike Callton, R-Nashville. “It was so offensive, I don’t even want to say it in front of women. I would not say that in mixed company.”
Again, according to the Detroit news article,
“If I can’t say the word vagina, why are we legislating vaginas?” Brown said at a press conference. “What language should I use?”
Why is it that Republicans are so willing to legislate on sex including who does it and its various outcomes, but they can’t say the word? How can you have a debate if you can’t mention the subject? Oh, I guess that’s the point.
Isn’t it time for these powerful GOP members to grow up? Say it with me boys, it’s not hard “V-A-G-I-N-A.”
And isn’t it time that we voters start paying attention to the views of people we vote for and not just listen to all the bullshit?
Filed under Criminal Activity, Elections, Health and Medicine, Humor, Hypocrisy, Law, Politics, Science, Stupidity, Voting
One year ago today, when I was a mere fifty-four and a half years old, I started FiftyFourAndAHalf.com. A blog with a stupid name that I decided to keep. So yup, today’s my first Blirthday!
John Lennon is, in fact singing “Blirthday.” He was a man well ahead of his time, singing in celebration of something that hadn’t happened yet. (Kind of like when he sang about peace.)
*****
When I started this blog, well, I figured it would be filled with rants about politics. That was the subject of my very first post, in fact. I was mad as hell that the GOP wanted to end Medicare for folks 55 and under. I took it rather personally, in fact, given that they were going to take it away from me.
So now that I fixed that –
Excuse me? I didn’t? I didn’t fix it? You mean they’re still talking about screwing people 55 years and younger? Damn! I guess I can’t quit now.
Anyway, I found that I was writing and posting kind of a mish-mash in here. A little politics, a little bit of silly stuff, way more embarrassing stories about me than I can believe I have actually put in print. And occasionally a serious piece. Oh, and I didn’t forget politics.
Yup. I find that FiftyFourAndAHalf.com has become a sock drawer of a blog. And I’m OK with that.
Don’t grumble. They’re all clean.
But to celebrate my Blirthday, I need to thank a number of people who have been helpful and supportive:
John,
Jacob
Cooper
Other Family Members who would kill me if I named them
Jen and Keily and Judy and Bao
And to three friends I met in writing classes who encouraged me to blog. They became my first followers in the early months when, um, I didn’t tell anyone I actually knew about the blog. (These guys are all good writers and they need to post way more often):
Delajus at Higher and Higher
Jamie at SleepDeprivedAndInsane
Lisa at Eat Plants said the Cow
And thank you, my bloggin’ buddies, for reading, commenting, “LIKE”-ing and writing such great stuff that I spend all my time reading and commenting on your blogs instead of cleaning my house. Please remember me when the Health Inspector condemns it.
“But seriously, officer, I’ll clean it up as soon as I finish this comment …”
One week after landing in a hazy, overcast, gray Geneva, Switzerland, I had my very first taste of what I’d moved 3,000 miles to experience. And it was, of course, magical.
I was alone for the first time in weeks. Exploring. John was working, Jacob was safely at his first day of school. I was on my own, with only our Bernese Mountain Dog, Charlie, for company, when it happened.
I was driving down the Route de Divonne when the clouds, at long last, parted. And there they were – just past the now glistening Lake Geneva — the mountains. Mont Blanc, with its year-round snowy peak, the highest mountain in Europe. The Alps, danced right there, just through my windshield. I could practically reach out and touch them, taste them, smell their beauty. It was magical. Breathtaking. Inspiring. Unforgettable.
Google image
I felt like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. You know just what I mean, don’t you. I felt like Julie when she is up there in the mountains by herself. When she throws her arms wide and sings with all her heart, The Hills Are Alive, With the Sound of Music. And they are. Trust me.
I slowed down, tried to breathe, tried to memorize the moment and keep it in my heart. Tried to capture the moment forever. I also tried not to hit another car.
And then, well, something else happened. From a side street to my left came a small car. It turned in front of me, pulling behind it a long green open-air trailer. Neatly stenciled on the back in a lacy, delicate script were these words:
“Natural Garden,” in french.
And on top of that trailer sat the largest pile of steaming cow manure I have ever seen.
And so, my first solo excursion in the Swiss countryside became a metaphor for life as an ex-patriot living there: There were moments of majestic beauty that I call “Julie Andrews Moments,” when I was filled with beauty and awe and felt like the luckiest person on earth.
And there was a lot of shit. These two elements combined with travel to places I never dreamed I’d see, made our time in Geneva the adventure of a lifetime.
* * *
Some of my bloggin’ buddies have asked me to write more about our time in Geneva, and I figured it is about time I did. It was a wonderful experience, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss my non-home-away from home, Switzerland.
Filed under Driving, Elections, Geneva Stories, Humor, Music
Did you know that I am a fashion maverick? It’s true. I have been for years. Or am I a fashion maven? I forget. But I’m one of the two.
Actually, I was truly a young fashion trailblazer. In 6th grade, I became the very first 10-year-old girl to wear nylons to school. Yup. I did. I was very grown up. And I wore them with a garter belt the boys found irresistible. No, I was a good girl. I didn’t try to show it to them. But it was the sixties, the mini-skirt era. And I was, at that time, really good in math. The teacher, clearly a perv, often had me write the correct answers to homework problems on the blackboard. High up on the blackboard. There certainly was a lot of noise when I had my back turned. Boys were so stupid.
I’m pretty sure I first wore nylons on one of those days when my mother went to work early and didn’t see me. But still, I did it first. The popular girls just couldn’t believe it was me – that I got there before they did.
Now you guys reading this are nodding off. Stop it. Just wait. Skim.
Throughout junior high and high school, my fashion firsts continued. I was also the first person to wear torn up blue jeans to school, and to go braless. (See guys, I told you it would improve.)
Anyway, now that I am an adult, I am a wee bit more self-conscious in my fashion trail-blazing. So I need some advice.
I’ve just gotten this new pair of jeans and, well, I just can’t decide where to wear them first. I was so excited when I first saw these pants. They’re just so me.
They’re made by a Texas textile company, American Tactical Apparel. The idea belongs to Brian Hoffner, a long-time Houston police officer who describes himself as “kind of a renaissance man,” according to this article. Interestingly, the idea to make special pants to conceal his gun, came to him (ahem) while he was visiting a prostitute with a gun strapped to his thigh. (I don’t know why, but I have few commercially successful ideas when I am visiting hookers. And even fewer when I am afraid that I might shoot myself.)
Anyway, these jeans, along with a line of khakis and other apparel, are designed for the fashion-conscious gun-toter. And it’s none too soon if you ask me. It has been such an inconvenience sticking my handgun in my bra.
What do you think? Where should I wear these jeans – and should I wear my Susan G. Komen Pink Hope 22 or go semi-automatic?
Please, help me out here.
The only problem is there is only one holder. And it is pretty small. Where can I put my M-16?
Filed under Childhood Traumas, Elections, Fashion, Gun control, Humor, Hypocrisy, Law, Stupidity
I got TWO!
I recommend Karen Kingsley and Kingsley Ink
The Highest Honor
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FiftyFourandAHalf 