Bad Bunny and White Jesus

 I was asked today about this past weekend's viewing habits.

"Did you watch the Super Bowl?"

"No."

"WHATTTTT???"

"No. I'm not interested in football."

"Well who did you want to win?"

"I didn't care. I didn't even know who was playing until the game was on."

"Well. My Seahawks WON!! I prayed and prayed and they won!!"

"I see. I know lots of families watched the game, I just am not a football fan."

A moment's thought, then,
"Did you watch the halftime show?"

"I did." (I waited until today and looked it up online, mostly muted it, I don't like rap, but I was interested in the story) 
"Bad Bunny. I read about it, too, so I could understand what he said and what it was about."

::shocked Pikachu face:::

"What??!! It was VERY inappropriate!! My family didn't watch that, we watched the Christian halftime show!"

This was said with an incredibly superior air.

Of course I had to ask.

"What was the Christian halftime show?"

"Oh, it was Kid Rock! We don't allow bad things on our television!"

I didn't say anything. Nope. 
But considering some of the garbage that has spewed from that particular artist, I'm going to say that he's not a Christian, at least not one that fits any definition of one that I've ever heard.

I won't post lyrics to any of his crap (you can't spell crap without r-a-p) but if you don't mind being disgusted and grossed out, you can look up Cool Daddy Cool. 


And the performance from Bad Bunny wasn't anything I liked, either. Just not my thing.

I appreciated getting the meaning of the story, and there was a lot of history and things I didn't know, but in case you missed it (haha) I don't like rap, I'm uninterested in seeing a bunch of crotch-grabbing and had little interest beyond curiosity over what all the hype was about. It was a smooth production, and if you like that sort of thing, was well done.

But I was struck by the child's disgust over perceived wrongness in the performance of Bad Bunny (that she didn't even watch) and her unquestioning acceptance of another rap performer who isn't much different.

Except of course Bad Bunny has brown skin.

Once again I really dislike the indoctrination of children into religion. 
Any religion, not just Christianity.
But specifically, white Jesus.
If he existed, he wasn't a white man with long, silky hair and bassett hound eyes. He just wasn't.

Chances are good that particular child will learn to question things, and sooner rather than later, she's pretty smart.

I recall so many instances of growing up with my own sanctimommy and her long, long list of things I wasn't allowed to read or think about or talk about as I grew up. She's still convinced that her religion is the only religion and that pretty much everyone else is going to hell.

I was fully indoctrinated and immersed in religion through my formative years, too.

Which team wins is very important to White Jesus!!
Would you like to own this print or another sporty Jesus? 
Click on the pic and order your own manly Jesus pic!!

   

Talked to Bailey's dad

When I was a little kid, my family did the whole religious thing, too.
Church every Sunday. And Sunday night. Bible study on different nights of the week.

I believed there was evil lurking around every corner. Like my family, I hated anyone who was different. I knew that brown people and gay people and people with long hair and tattoos and girls who dyed their hair weren't as good as we were. My friend Hollie babysat for a single mom who worked as a bartender. My parents didn't want me around her or her children. Our religion, the Christian religion of love and understanding, was really just words. They judged everyone and I enthusiastically joined in.

I knew the 'hate the sin, not the sinner' justification for being a religious asshole, too.

(Now I answer that stupid, stupid comment with, "Oh! Kind of how I try to hate the bigotry without hating the bigot!")

I was immersed in godliness.
Potlucks and evening services and sledding parties and 24 hour prayer vigils (we all signed up for a one hour time slot and went to the little prayer room of the church to ask god to help us be worthy of his love and be able to spread the good word). There were church work parties and the annual 'Pray in the New Year' which was as boring as it sounds.

All of it was, really.
Boring and, until I was 12 or so, scary.

I got told every week that I was a sinner and going to hell and needed to get right with God. Every week. I felt guilty. Like I always came up short.
I was even told that 'the lord' was disappointed in me.

I was afraid of the devil until I was 12. Then I started asking questions and being unsatisfied with the answers.

So.

I wrote about it back in 2011, but I was molested by the teenaged son of my babysitter.
It's certainly ancient history at this point and as far as I know, hasn't caused any issues in my current life.

But my parents never sent me back to that babysitter.
Instead, I was sent to my mom's old babysitter. The one who'd watched her as a child.

Mrs. Hill threatened me each time I misbehaved.
Not sure how badly a three or four year old child can misbehave, but whatever.

Mrs. Hill used to tell me that she was going to lock me in the closet in the dark and I could just wait for the devil to come and get me. She put me in the closet more than once.
I was terrified.

And that has caused me issues in my current life.

I no longer believe in a god or the devil or heaven or hell, but I'm still afraid of the dark.
Those childhood things stick with you.

I talked to Bailey's dad this afternoon. I can't address what I think of the fear they've put in their child. But I told him the facts. That she is utterly terrified to use the bathroom. That she doesn't wipe after going.

We talked about her very large imagination.

He thanked me for bringing it to his attention. I sincerely hope they're able to help her through her fears. It makes me sad and angry at the same time.

I know they mean well. That they're trying to raise their child in the way they believe.
I also hope she eventually escapes from religion.

ADHD and religious experiences

Do you remember Bailey?


(From October 2023 One of my small girls said to me yesterday afternoon, "Do you know why I'm such a nice person?"

"No, Bailey, why?"

She straightened up a bit, put on a (sorry, but it's true) sanctimonious face and said, "I'm nice because of JESUS. I'm a CHRISTIAN!"

I can't say much to a kid who's thinking that way, of course.

I did tell her, "Hey did you know a person can be nice even when they're not a christian?"
She looked taken aback a little. Then she agreed that, "Well, maybe..."

I am not a person who thinks everyone needs to think my way. It's not a secret that I'm not a believer in any sort of god, either. But that attitude... wow.

I wanted to tell her that she is nice. That every kid in the group is pretty nice, actually. And that I doubted any kind of god was the reason, but I just let it go. Nothing else I can do. )

She is in 1st grade this year.
Still full of imagination, raging ADHD and hugely impulsive behaviors. She's always the kid who isn't listening when the rest of the group IS listening.

She's talking, jumping, waving her arms, spinning in a circle. Snapping her fingers, tilting her head waaaaay back to look at the ceiling, speaking out of turn. She's like a puppy, all exuberant and joyous and mostly clueless before her actions, then contrite when she gets caught.

"Bailey, I know you're ready to go outside, but I need to talk to the whole group and if I'm talking and then you start talking, one of us is interrupting. Right now, it's you. Please let me finish what I need to say and then if you have questions or something to say, it will be your turn."

She blushes and stammers a bit, is finally quiet and I am able to once again explain that we're going to do a fire drill and remind everyone that we're quiet and serious during drills. That when I do roll call, I don't want them to make silly noises in answer to their name.

"I just want to hear the word 'here' when I call your name, young humans."

When it's time to come in after our afternoon recess, she's the last one to get in line to come back in. Just ONE MORE time across the monkey bars and she must take a few moments to balance walk along the curb that separates the blacktop from the bark area.

Then she does a little ballerina dance when she stops by the table where she left her coat.

Twirl, twirl, twirl.

Every time.

She's a delight.
She's funny, intelligent, compassionate to the other kids.
Her huge emotions are hard for her, but she's able to express herself clearly.
"Bailey, what's wrong?"
"I'm very frustrated because this pen isn't working and it's the exact color I need!"

I've noticed lately that when she comes out of the bathroom, she's usually running despite the prohibition against dashing across the always-wet floor by the sinks and drinking fountains.

I have had to remind her to 'please walk' several times in the last month.

I often remind many kids of the same thing.

I can tell you with 100% certainty that some of them will never catch on, even if they live to be 90.

When we come in from being outdoors, the first thing we do is go to the sinks to wash hands.

"Please pick up one paper towel from the floor before you wash your hands."

A small lesson... leave the place better than you found it. They're really good at remembering, I rarely have to issue that particular reminder anymore.

Yesterday afternoon, she was the last child washing. Makes sense, she was the last child in after recess, took her coat off and put it in her basket, wandered across the room about halfway, stopped at the LEGO area where Aaron and Dave were building spaceships, paused at the art table to see if her picture was still there. My assistant, Erin, reminded her, "Bailey, please go wash your hands."

I was closer to that end of the room, so I accompanied her. When kids are out of sight, unless they're in the restrooms, we follow.

By the time I got to the sink area outside the bathrooms, she had already washed, (bet she didn't use soap) was running back to our area, wild-eyed and afraid.

"Bailey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" she said, looking off to her right. She shuffled a toe on the tiles, looked off to her left and smiled brightly at the tops of her shoes.

I noticed her hands were still wet after washing.

"Bailey, you forgot to dry your hands!"

"No, um.... I like them wet!"
Another overly bright and completely insincere smile.

It really doesn't matter, they'll dry.
Not worth commenting or trying to make her dry them.
Our afternoon went on.

So last school year when she was in kindergarten, Bailey wet her pants about twice a month. She would be so focused on what she was doing that she wet instead of going to the bathroom.

She has only done it one time this year.
But, in a new development, she waits and waits and waits. We can see her start to fidget, cross legs, pace the floor. If I can do it discreetly, I ask if she needs to use the restroom. She denies it, only to run to me or to Erin a minute or two later, panic on her face, legs crossed, saying, "I have to go pee RIGHT NOW!"

Before she finishes speaking we're waving her on. "Go! Go!"

She runs.

By the time one of us arrives at the sink area to be in legal proximity, a distance of about 20 feet, she's already done and running back out the door.

The last couple days, she has asked for me to walk to the bathroom with her and, "Can you stand by the door in the hallway until I come out?"

First day, I had to be over there anyway because there was a boy in the other bathroom. Another rule we have to follow. So I just walked over there without comment.

Yesterday, though, she asked me to talk to her the whole time she was in there. "Or you can sing," she told me. "I'm just afraid."

Before I could ask what she was afraid of, she ran into the bathroom and I swear to you, she peed so hard it sounded like a small high pressure hose. "I have to have you close by because I am afraid of demons," she said over the noise.

She was done and out the door SO fast. She slowed down when she saw me standing there.

Then she told me, "I'm afraid to be in the bathroom because the demons will get me."
"What? What demons?"

"They wait for a kid to be alone and they can get them then."

I said, "But Bailey, you believe in God and Jesus, right?"

"Yes, but even when Jesus is standing by the door while I pee, the demons can get past him and crawl under the walls and get me and I will go to hell."

Oh.
Oh dear.

I don't even know how to tackle that.
I absolutely can't comment on her religious beliefs.

As we walked back into the cafeteria, I told her that I always heard that God would protect people who believe in him.

She agreed, but, "I don't think he can see them. If Jesus is standing in front of the door, they can go under the door when he isn't looking down and he won't be able to stop them."

She paused.
"They wait until my parents go to sleep, too. Then they hide in my closet and under my bed. They look like shadowy skeletons with blood in their mouth."

Holy cow they've scared the hell out of this kid.
They've told her all about God and Jesus. And demons.
Her imagination has supplied the rest.
Demons will come get you in the bathroom or if your parents are too far away.
And any place that you're alone means you're vulnerable to their attack, apparently.

I'll be talking with her mom or dad when she's picked up on Monday afternoon. Obviously not about religion, just her fear.

I swear she's gonna rupture something, she also told me that when she poops she goes very fast and pushes very hard.

Then she told me she doesn't wipe, either.
"I'm afraid to stay there too long, the demons will take me to hell."

And this is what you get when you take a child with a huge imagination and scare them with threats of hellfire and damnation.

How to make a doormat

Ariana and Sophia (remember them?) and Bailey ("Do you know why I'm such a nice person? I'm nice because of JESUS. I'm a CHRISTIAN!") were at the art table this afternoon.

Ariana is a first grader, her little sister and Bailey are in Kindergarten.

They all had coloring pages. 

Ariana and Sophia decided it would be fun to gang up on Bailey and make fun of what she was coloring. They told her it looked like poopy kaka and then laughed at her. Snotty.

I was monitoring their conversation. I suggested they keep their words appropriate and kind.

Asked them, "If the principal were standing here right now, is that something you'd be saying? And what makes you think you need to comment on anyone's work besides your own?"

They got their usual pouty faces on and Ariana said, "Well SHE said that I colored out of the lines!"

"And it makes things better for you to say her work is poopy? I heard you ask her what she thought about your picture, too. I heard 'do you like my picture' from you. Did you want her to answer? And all she said was that you colored outside the lines." 

I pointed to a spot.

"You did color outside the lines a little. But that's okay, none of us are perfect. Your picture looks fine to me."

She stuck out her lower lip again and acted wounded.

So I moved over to the art table and grabbed a picture of my own to color. 
The sisters stopped being rude temporarily at least.

Then I had to get up and mediate an argument at the construction area and left the three girls at the art table for a few minutes.

As I was asking Jonah to give the blocks back to John, I heard Bailey say forcefully, "You are being mean and I don't like it. Stop it right now!"

I went back to the table. Ariana and Sophia had drawn with black marker across Bailey's paper.

She was red-faced and angry, but using clear words without saying anything mean. She was expressing her feelings and standing up for herself.

Ariana turned to me ::sigh:: once again with her lower lip sticking out.

"Bailey isn't being nice to meeeeee!"
I swear, that kid whines more than any three other ones combined.

So I asked Ariana and Sophia to please find another activity.
"I have asked you to be kind, but you are still not being nice to Bailey. So please find another area to play. We can try the art table again later."

They rolled their eyes and sighed at me in unison, but they capped their markers and went to play checkers at the game table.

About five minutes later, Bailey's mom came to get her. The game table is by our door, so when my assistant let Mom in, Ariana said, "Bailey was SO MEAN to me and my sister today!"

Mom went to the art table and said, "Bailey, I am very disappointed that you weren't kind to others. You know we are kind in our family."

Bailey looked down sadly. Ariana looked triumphant.

Mom and Bailey went to get Bailey's backpack, and I followed them over. "Cheryl," I said to Mom where no one else could hear, "I just wanted you to know that the issue with Bailey was not started by her and that she used clear and straightforward language to tell the other girls that she didn't like what they were doing. I do allow kids to stand up for themselves when they are here. In fact, I encourage them to do so."

She smiled and said, "Thank you for telling me this. But our family lives by a higher code. We believe that we should turn the other cheek. We don't respond to mean behavior from others."

She and Bailey went out the door. It's good they did.
You guys, I was speechless. 

Momentarily.

Then I realized that what I really wanted to say would definitely have gotten me fired. And of course I love what I do. I can't make a difference for kids if I'm not there, right?

What did I want to say?

"Oh! Turn the other cheek! I have heard that! I've also heard 'a soft answer turneth away wrath.' Wanna know where I heard that? From my mom! My mom, who was raised to turn the other cheek, speak softly, and do whatever she was told. And never, ever stand up for herself. And as a result of that early childhood conditioning, she put up with SIXTY FOUR YEARS of abusive behavior from her husband. Do you have ANY fucking clue what you're teaching your daughter????"

I have a short list of OH MY GOD moments over the years doing this work. Probably seven or eight things, I'd have to think about it a bit. But this was one of the biggest ones I've ever had. That mom, who loves her beautiful and intelligent daughter, is setting her up to be a doormat. A compliant and quiet and meek little wife.

Gaaah.

Church Karens on Halloween

 Remember that lady who thought I had Satan in me a couple posts back?
This is quite similar.

Annnd.. checked my blog on my phone and the video doesn't show up the way it does on my computer. So here's the YouTube link.

Asking Questions

I was dragged to church my entire life until I left home at 17.

(For more than you ever wanted to know about my religious experiences, you can go visit Bruce's blog and read part 1 and part 2 of my story. )

Church on Sunday mornings.
A 'fellowship' potluck or picnic at least once a month.
Bible study on Wednesday evenings.

I hated it. I hated getting up early (that has never changed, I'm nearly 60 years old and getting up early is still near the top of my 'I hate that' list) and getting dressed up for Sunday services. It was often chilly and usually drafty in the buildings where we met, I had to wear nylons and a dress to church.

Every Sunday from October to June, I froze my ass off.

I asked once why I couldn’t wear something comfortable like my brothers instead of having to wear a dress and nylons and be cold.

“Why does God even care what I wear?” I asked.

The answer was, “You are disrespectful. Now hurry up, we’re late.” from my harried mother.

Her curt response may have been due to the fact that she was still trying to brush one brother’s unruly hair and get shoes on my other brother while my dad sat out front in the car and honked the horn.

Where I grew up, church was almost everyone's social club.
Not mine, the same asshole kids I went to school with were in church, too.
Small towns, which parents look at and say, "Oh what a lovely place to raise children!" are not the utopian ideal to the kids who are stuck there, lemme tell ya.

Asking questions was not looked at as a positive thing in those churches we attended.
You may find it difficult to believe that I wasn't outspoken and snarky as a young teen, especially as irreverent and smart-assy as I am now, but it's true.

I was quiet, stayed on the fringes of just about everything and tried to be a good kid.

So when I was about 12, I asked my Sunday school teacher (in front of the whole class), "Why did Jesus have to die for MY sins? I've never done anything that deserves a death penalty!"

Some of the other kids were quick to ask, too.
"Yeah, how come?"
"I never did anything that bad."

I don't remember what the teacher said exactly, it was some bullshit about 'the sins of mankind' and then he moved on to some other thing.

After church services that evening, as we were all getting ready for bed at home, my dad told me that if I had 'big questions' about church and sin that I should come and ask him privately instead of causing other kids to doubt. 

I know what he meant now, but I really didn't get it then.

I have feelings about people whose faith is so weak that someone asking an honest question would lead them astray, but I guess there are weak-minded people here and there.

I didn't remember that I was supposed to ask awkward questions at home rather than Sunday school. It wasn't long before I asked if people actually believed that kangaroos and koalas hopped all the way to Noah's house so they could get a ride on the ark and then hopped all the way home again after the flood was over.

The rest of the kids found that hysterical, although I wasn't trying to be funny.
The teacher did not find it humorous at all.

Once again my dad reminded me that, "We can discuss these things at home."

The trouble with that was that I never remembered before I started the question out loud, then I felt funny if I didn't finish, so I finished.

"Who did Adam and Eve's sons marry? They couldn't marry their sisters, could they?"

One of my brother's classmates died in a house fire over the Christmas holidays.
"Isn't God all-powerful?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then why did Darcy die in a fire? Didn't he like her?"

I never did get a straight answer to that one.

I stopped asking questions a long time ago.

I'm not religious. I don't believe in any gods.

I'm fine with other people believing whatever they want as long as they're not bothering me with it. I hate having people knock on my door trying to sell me cleaning supplies, vacuum cleaners, political candidates or religion.

I did not raise my kids in church, although I told them many times over the years that if they were interested in going, I would take them. They did attend with my parents a few times.

It never occurred to me to warn either one about the loud outbursts that happened in the services, I grew up with it and although I find it crazy now, it just seemed like part of the deal then.

So when they came home from a visit to Eastern Oregon and regaled me with tales from the wingnuts, I apologized to them for not better-preparing them for the experience.

They had a lot of questions.

Don't come GODding at me.

I understand that religion is something that helps people make sense of their universe. I'm fine with that, I'd never take it away from anyone.

I was raised that way myself.

Religion (which could really be belief in any god(s) or combinations of deities) brings a great deal of comfort to many.

I'm not one of them.

Eric and I were the ones who decided that we needed to send smoke alarms.
An incompetent idiot put paper backed insulation (keep away from heat!!)  against eight feet of stove pipe in their attic. The smoke alarms (designed by scientists) did their job and alerted Lyssa and Mason that their house was on fire.

Seems to me that 'oh, this is a GOD thing, he had his HAND ON THEM' is sort of incorrect. If some sort of god was paying attention, one would think he might have kept them from going peacefully to sleep in a warm house only to have them awakened four hours later by a goddamn smoke alarm because some dumb shit fucked up the chimney 'repairs'.

That some sort of god might take into consideration that Lyssa and Mason have worked very hard for everything they had. That they've had to deal with a lot of bullshit (which isn't going to show up here, it's not my story to tell) and perhaps might have let them keep some of what they'd worked so hard to get.

Instead of what happened.

They keep getting all kinds of platitudes, too.
About how some god or another was watching over them.
That he 'has a plan'.
That they should 'pray that the insurance will handle everything properly'.

I don't know how many times I've said it, but if I had the power to stop shitty things from happening to people I love, I'd do it. I'm pretty sure I'd take care of my children a little better than that.

I am happy they're alive.
Glad they have each other still.

But I don't believe that some divine being had anything to do with that and I'd really appreciate it if people would stop godding at me and at them.

Aw gee, just let it go!!

You remember my answer to the whole forgive and forget, don't you?

I'm not Jesus and I don't have Alzheimer's.

I have a relative who is at odds with her adult children. I don't know what has happened between them over the years, but things aren't going well right now.

She occasionally posts something about it on the Book of Face. Never details, such as names of her kids or the nature of the current disagreement. As it should be, since nothing you post online is really anonymous. She's just venting to the people on her friend's list, not asking for someone to solve the problems. 

This evening she posted something about their ongoing feud, and a family 'friend' decided to chime in. I've met this person a couple times. I didn't like her the first time we met and I liked her even less the second time. She's arrogant. She's well past confident and into snatchie territory if you want my opinion. And of course you do, or you wouldn't be reading here.

She's one of those people who knows something about every single topic brought up in her presence and is quite proud to tell you everything she knows. If she were a guy, you'd say she's boorish.

So she answered my cousin's post with her opinion. Which is fine, that's what FB is for. She included the names of all my cousin's kids and had to show us all how she knows allll about everything. Except for removing the names of my cousin and her family, I left all the mistakes and stupidity intact.
"You must come to a place of forgiveness and make peace! Speaking the truth in love. Set aside your worldly knowledge, your pride, your right to be right! From the little i have seen, you have had a contentious relationship for a long time off and on! I'm going to pay for you and your family! Heavenly Father I ask that every member of this family humble themselves before your mighty throne. I pray Lord that every single person would renounce and cast down any form of manipulation, anger, pride, unforgiveness, desire to hurt one another, casting stones, judgements, exalted knowledge, slander, and punishment in the name of Jesus! We ask Father that we would be in a low position before your mighty rule! Humble us, oh God, and give us a heart of sacrifice and pure, holy love one for the other! May we prefer the other before we prefer ourselves! May we each release all rights to you and you alone. The right to be right, the right to be honored, the right to be adored, the right to have the first word and the right to the last word. We renounce the right of carnal, worldly knowledge that would seek to self elevate and self praise in Jesus name! We renounce the the evil spirit of enmity and separation. We ask Holy Spirit that you would begin healing deep-seated wounds that we have held on to! We rebuke the right to be offended. We renounce the evil of trying to control and Change those we love! We renounce public shaming in the name of JESUS! We ask that you break every generational curse in the name of JESUS! We invite you into LORDSHIP of our family. May you give us the ability to truly love each other as Christ loves us! I pray this for ***, ****, ****, *** and *****. May the love of Christ be not found wanting in us and or our family! Love covers, love lifts up, love prays, love is long suffering. Love pays the price privately for what is birthed and Bourne publicly! We ask these things in Jesus name...AMEN!! love you _______.

Oh yeah. Now that's 'speaking the truth in love' right there.

So I posted my dissenting opinion. Also fine. :-D I'm sure I pissed her off with my answer. I won't be surprised if she has something else to say about it. Which of course I will bring to you immediately.
Telling someone they need to forgive diminishes the validity of their feelings.

It's a form of blaming the person who is in pain.

Your feelings are valid, as are your reactions to them. I'm sorry that this is happening, but you have every right to feel however you feel and be supported by those who love you.
It doesn't matter who's wrong or who's right. It's not for us to sort out, blame, bring up what has happened in the past and decide how you need to react. It's our job to love you. Period.

Also, I doubt that God is reading Facebook.

Snarrrrrrrrrrk!!!

My parents have a friend who could only be described as a thoroughly poisonous, mean old man.

Long story. But he's overbearing, rude to women (my mother included) and not someone I like. I'm sure he has some good qualities. Well, actually I'm not sure he does. But doesn't everyone have at least one good thing about them?

He fell down a flight of stairs at his house last week or the week before.
Injured badly, punctured lung, broken ribs, concussion. Bruises and contusions.
It wasn't a good thing.

While I was chatting with my mom on FB tonight, she said, "The good Lord was sure looking out for him!"

"I don't think so," I told her. "If he'd been paying attention, perhaps Chuck wouldn't have fallen."

I do not understand how she can look at the injuries and the other things going on (Chuck's wife is in bad shape, confined to a wheelchair now) and say that anyone who actually gives a shit for Chuck was 'looking out for him'.

I don't make it a secret that I'm not a believer, but even when I was I thought stuff like that was utter bullshit.

I saw something the other night, God was saying to a person, "Sorry, can't help right now, a spoiled Mormon girl has lost the keys to her Jetta."

We make jokes from time to time when there is a natural disaster... "God forgot to pay attention, he was looking for my mom's earrings."

But think about this.
Suppose Kenzie came to me and said, "I can't find my earrings!"
And I was focused on helping her with that, but Billy was climbing up the stairs. And because I wasn't paying attention, ("Billy! Get down from there!") he fell down that same flight of stairs. Puncturing a lung, getting a concussion, losing blood... having to be transported to the hospital in an ambulance.

Would someone then say, "Wow, Susan was sure looking out for him!"

Aggravates me.

Questions. I have questions.

The state senate is raising the legal age to use tobacco products from 18 to 21.
Okay.
My questions... What if the person is 20 and has been smoking for two years? Or three or four or whatever. I certainly don't advocate smoking (can't believe I used to smoke) but it's an addiction and what are they going to do?
Just take their cigarettes away?
And those same 18 to 21 year olds can be sent off to die in a war, can vote for politicians and other things... yeah, smoking is stupid for anyone at any age... but they are adults.
I think the state should (haha) BUTT out.

Also, contained in that article is some concern about how it's going to affect tax revenue. Stupid assholes... our state's being run by a governor who said recently that she really didn't have time to focus on saving money.

SO much waste.
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Have you seen this yet? The little Chinese girl hanging off the outside of a high rise building? I couldn't watch the video, even after I knew the child was safe. Just couldn't. The mama bear in me bristles and gets all fierce when I think about a child being hurt (or possibly being hurt).

And my questions are... what the blue fuck was she doing on the outside of a high rise building? How did she get out? Why did this go on for 40 minutes before she was rescued? And, when will we get those details? I know. Never. Drives me fuckin' nuts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This little girl was trying to earn some money by selling a manipulative. A tube with water and other things in it, meant for kids to keep their hands busy. I've seen them in our behavior room at school, they're marketed for Autistic kids, but I can see why almost any kid would enjoy playing with one.

But the principal of the school publicly humiliated this child by yelling at her in front of a large crowd at a basketball game. Suspended her from school.Sex toys. Sure. A 13 year old girl is selling sex toys in a Christian school. When the error was pointed out, did the principal then apologize and try to make things right? Shit no!

The principal and the other people involved in this need to be dragged out into the street and slapped. Preferably with a lawsuit. What a bunch of stupid dipshits.
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Agree or disagree, this guy apparently has large balls.  
Not that I want to see them.
He has been very outspoken against Obama and the Democrats for a long time. He's very happy that Trump is now the president. He's packing up a very profitable business and leaving the state completely.

In a climate where your opinion is shouted down and you're called a racist or some other derogatory thing when you don't agree with the liberal side of things,  it takes courage to stand up and say what you think anyway. And he's done that.

I don't love the Democrats. I didn't love Obama, and I'm glad he is no longer our president. I don't love the Republicans or Trump, either. And I did not vote for Hillary. I felt that we really weren't given any real choices, which is really too bad.

And although it's not relevant to the story and it's not really a question, I still think Bernie Sanders would have won the election if the nomination had not been stolen from him by Hillary and her minions.

And I didn't love Bernie, either. But I think he is a better person than Hillary and Donald. By far.
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Here's one about a real 'stand up' guy. Ugh. It's funny but awful to say that, I know. At 23, he had an ongoing affair with a 16 year old girl. He got her pregnant. And told her if she really cared about him, she'd get a tattoo of his name on her neck. Threatened to leave her and not help her raise the baby. The same really bright brain that thought it was a good idea to screw this guy also thought it would be a good idea to get his name tattooed to prove her love. So she did it. Cost her 3 grand to have it removed, and originally he was told he had to pay for it. But an appeal said no, he did not have to pay for it.

My questions... where were her parents?
Where was his brain?
Never mind, we know where his brain was.
What a dirtbag.
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Last, we have this.
A guy named Brad who, after his wife was fired from Cracker Barrel restaurant after eleven years of faithful service, just wants to know why. Because they didn't bother giving her a reason, and because they have so many wrongful termination suits already, he asked them publicly on their Facebook page, "Why did you fire my wife?"

This has gone global. People all over the world are trolling Cracker Barrel's Facebook page with some utterly hysterical comments.

I actually don't have any questions about this.

But if you're on Facebook, you should go to Cracker Barrel's page and read the comments. Really. You should.
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And if you ARE on FB and would like to connect, email me at AmiMental at gmail.com and I'll let you know my real name. You can look me up and send me a  friend request... if I know you and you've been commenting here awhile.

Okay. Off to bed to stew and fret and worry over the stuff that happened at my site while I was gone.

I'll get that all written up for you this weekend, probably.
Gahhhh.

But you do, right?

Alden always has really interesting questions and a lot of insight.
He says what's on his mind, too.

On Friday afternoon, he was one of the last kids. He likes to chat with me when things are quiet, and was following me around while I moved my program to one side of the cafeteria in preparation for Monday morning.

"Do you go to church?" he asked.
I stopped, turned to him and said, "Nope."

He laughed a little.
"No. Really," he said. "Do you?"

Again I said, "Nope."

He looked at me carefully. Figured out that I wasn't lying.
"Why not?"

"Don't want to," I said, smiling. "Not interested in going to church."

He considered a moment as he stood there. I kept walking, moving one of the big carpets to the back room.

He caught up with me.
"Does Alyssa go to church?"
"Nope."

"Why not?"
"She's not interested."

"Did you ever go to church before?"
"Yep."

I kept working. It was really funny. He'd ask me a question, I'd answer honestly. It would stop him in his tracks and he'd have to process the answer. Then he would trot across the room to ask me still another question.

"When's the last time you went to church?"

I thought about it. Considered going to church vs attending a service because being the leader of a Girl Scout troop which met in a church required me to do so.

So I answered, "I think about, hmm, 1985."

He laughed a little. I don't think he believed me.

"Did your son go to church?"
"Nope."
"But he got married at church, right?"
"Nope."
"But you have to get married at church!"
"Why?"
"Because God wants you to!"

"I don't think so, Buddy. I'm pretty sure that people can get married just about anywhere and it still counts. Marriage is about being with the person you love for life, not about church at all."

He stood, thinking, while I moved the dramatic play cart and the game cart.

Caught up to me again.

"Why doesn't your family go to church?"
"We don't want to."

"But you believe in God, right?"
"I don't discuss my personal beliefs, Alden."

"Yeah, but you believe in God and Jesus, don't you?"
"I don't discuss my personal beliefs, Alden."

"But you do because you're good. You have to believe in Jesus to be good."

"No, you don't. There are many good people who have different religions. Or no religion at all."

I named a few religions. One of the ones I mentioned was Buddhism.
Told him that Buddhist people don't have a supreme being, they just believe in the whole do good things and you'll have good things happen to you. Simplistic, yes, but I wanted him to get the point. One doesn't have to be religious or believe in a divine being to be a good person. A person can be kind, decent and moral without religion.

His mom came to get him, and he started talking to her about his homework, the lunchbox he'd left behind in his classroom and the big one... what's for dinner.

The way Alden works, you think a subject is closed and over only to have it come up at the most unexpected time. He will bring it up again. And again.

I don't mind, of course. Questions come at me all afternoon during the school week. I won't answer questions from a child with a shocked look, a strained tone of voice, or worst of all, a lie.

But I will refrain from mentioning things.

Butthump is Burning

I've referred to the small town where I did some of my growing up as Butthump, Oregon more than once.

It's actually John Day.

A few days ago a lightning strike started a fire that went to 35,000 acres in 24 hours. It's hot over there. Dry. And the earth muffins have done so much crying about clearing of brush and combustible materials and managed to have so many roads closed over the years that the entire area is nothing but a tinderbox.

My mom texted me last night to tell me that they're under a level 2 evacuation notice, meaning that they should be prepared to leave immediately if told to do so.

I texted Mom this morning to find out what was going on and got no answer. I waited awhile and texted again. Nothing. I wasn't alarmed, knowing that sometimes her phone is in her purse and she forgets to check it.

While Eric and I were shopping, my other brother texted me a bunch of photos of burned ground and melted.. stuff.

I had no idea where the photos were taken. Was this Mom and Dad's house?

So I texted him back. "Where is this?"

Nothing.

Texted my mom. She started rambling in her texts without telling me if it was THEIR DAMN HOUSE or not. I had no idea where the photos had been taken.

"My friend Joan was walking up and down the road in front of what used to be her house, she was distraught."

NO SHIT.

Finally, after telling her that I was going to throw the fucking phone out if she didn't answer my questions, we established that it was my brother's house and buildings in the photos.

Why didn't I just call her? Because I was in the grocery store, and while texts do fine in and out of there, the cell reception sucks donkey balls.

My brother Jim and his wife plan to retire to Canyon City in a few years. They're going to live on the property Judy's dad bought back in the 60s. Last night, the fire burned to within six inches of the house. All around it. They lost a couple outbuildings, a bench, and the well house.

My parents credit the power of prayer for saving my atheist brother's home. Other people were praying, too. All these lovely Christian people living all around Jim's property prayed their asses off and lost everything they owned. Guess they didn't pray hard enough.

She's trumpeting about 'the miracle' but it seems to me that it would be more of a miracle if 30 people hadn't lost their homes and everything they own.

The arrogance of some Christians never ceases to astound me, really.
They give peremptory orders to God... "God, find my car keys. My earrings. A good parking spot. Spare my cat. My dog. Take care of this and that and this, too."

I'm pretty sure God is a cross between Amazon and Santa.

The fire burned all the way up to the house on three sides.

My brother's house is on the other side of that hill.
In the middle of the conflagration.

Update on the Beeeeez. And Jeezus.

Apparently the exterminator came out again today.
The hive was large. And the critters who were out whoring around when they poisoned the nest came back to a bunch of dead friends, which pissed them off. We were told not to go near the playground until Monday.

That works for me. I'd be just as happy to never go near that place again.

In other news, we have a little girl who's been with us for the first time this summer. Amanda* is a very sweet kid. Always looking out for the smaller kids, opening doors for people, helping the staff if we need help, being just... kind. Yesterday when Erin was stung, the first thing Amanda did was make a card for her and get all the kids to sign it. Just a nice person, you know?

I met her dad for the first time yesterday afternoon. And as I always try to do, found something nice to say to him about his child.

"Amanda is one of the nicest kids I've met," I told him. "She just has the kindest heart. I am really enjoying her company this summer."

He smiled. "Yes," he said, a little pompously, "We're youth pastors. God has been good. She is nice because she wants to please Jesus."

It's hard for me to keep my mouth shut sometimes. I'm okay with someone believing in a god. I'm really not okay when some invisible guy in the sky is getting the credit for something like the behavior/personality/kindness of a person.

She isn't being nice because she's being watched. She's being nice because she has a kind heart. And it ticked me off for someone to say that.

I said something non-committal. Inwardly rolled my eyes.

Sometimes it's hard to say nothing when something really needs to be said.

The Jesusheads Found Us!

I don't believe in any god(s). That works for me.

I know that many people do. That works for me, too. I would never take away the comfort and certainty they feel because of religion. I was raised in a religious household. Spent one hell of a lot of time being dragged to church and other social events. To see what everyone was wearing. To find out who's been boinking who. To hear about how sinful and bad I was every week. To 'get right' with God.

Alllll that time I'll never get back. And for what??

Anyway, everyone's personal religious beliefs should be personal religious beliefs.

I get pissed off when the religious people believe that it's somehow necessary to haul me with them. To whatever eternity they believe in.

While I don't believe in it, I understand the position they're coming from, and I know it's meant to be kind and caring.

But I really don't want them coming to my door(s). The door(s) with the No Soliciting signs. This is my home. The place I go to get away from everything and everyone. If I invite you over, I'm always thrilled to see you. But even my family and friends know that I don't like being surprised with a visit. I should be able to be home and not be disturbed by people who ignore the signs. Yes you ARE soliciting. And you're pissing me off.

Do not tell me, "We aren't selling anything!"
Incorrect.  Religious solicitation is still soliciting.
They were trying to sell us something.
In this case, a home church. Just up the street! And they were pleased to let Eric know that they use the King James Version of the Bible.

Because a version of a book that was rewritten to please a gay king (missing huge chunks... anything that offended James was removed) waaaay back when is somehow more credible than the other versions.

If I'm home alone, I don't even open the door if I don't recognize the person. We have security doors on the outside of our regular doors. I can stand at the door and look out and not be seen by the person standing there. I feel no particular obligation to answer the door. I don't care if the person can hear activity in the house, hear us talking... whatever. My house, my rules.

Eric was polite to the middle aged couple who came to our door this afternoon.
He let them talk a little, shook the man's offered hand.
He said, "No. Thank you."
And they walked away without anything further.

I'd prefer it if they never bother us again. I am hopeful they will not.

When we lived in a shithole apartment complex back in the dark ages, we made our own sign.

No Soliciting.
No
Religion.
Candy.
Toys.
Cable.
Newspapers.
Magazines.

If what you're thinking of bothering us with isn't on the list, add it and GO AWAY.

We hung a pen on a string.

Low rent and straightforward. Worked, too. We used to get a ton of soliciting. As soon as we put the sign up, they stopped doing it.

I've been perusing commercially made signs this evening.
What do you think of this one?
More polite than some.

So first some backstory...

One of my nephews is not my brother's biological child. He came into our lives at the age of 16 months, and my brother raised Joe as his own. We all loved him as a child and we care about him now, as a man of 28 who has started his own family. In a strange parallel, his wife had a little boy from a previous relationship when they got together, and Joe is raising that child along with the little girl he and his wife made.

Now Joe has had his share of difficulties, as all children do. He was diagnosed with ADHD at about nine years old, and although my brother swore he'd never do to a child what was done to him, they decided to put him on Ritalin.

Unfortunately, he wasn't monitored as closely as he should have been. He became seriously depressed, began skipping school (my sister in law got him up and ready for school before she left for work and as soon as she left, he got back into his pajamas and went to bed) and chewed his toenails so badly his toes became horribly infected. The school did call daily, and Joe, no dummy, deleted the messages from the answering machine.

Finally, one morning in late February, when Joe was in the 6th grade, someone from the school finally called my sister in law at work.

"Did you know your son has missed 81 days of school?"

The resulting fallout was ugly and strange.

He is not my child, so the decision they made for him struck me as odd, but again... not my child. Or in the current parlance, Not my circus, not my monkeys.
They called my mom and dad and asked if Joe could come live with them and finish out the school year. My parents said yes, and my nephew moved into their house. Dad monitored the school situation (he taught over there for many, many years and knew everyone in the system) and my mom made sure he was fed and had clean laundry and a warm bed and lots of hugs.

He ended up staying with them for seventh and eighth grade, too. Then he moved back in with his parents in another town.

There is much more to the story, but it's not germane to *my* story.

The first thing Joe did when he turned 18 was to dump my brother's name and take his mom's maiden name as his last name instead.

And although we all love him, and Jack still considers Joe his son, there's not a lot of contact between them.

Joe has been in more than one relationship, and was married before. There was an arrest in a domestic disturbance, and my brother and his wife adopted the puppy that was abused and had a broken leg and collarbone. They paid the vet bills, too.

I will not say who abused the dog. I will suggest you draw your own conclusions.

Alyssa doesn't like Joe. He hasn't been a part of her life much, but if you know Alyssa, she doesn't like people who abuse other people. Or animals. We have never kept family business from her the way my parents did from me. She's smart and capable of understanding the nuances of family life and issues that people have.

So when my parents were here this summer, my mom was talking about Joe and 'how great he's doing!!'. Opinions of great may vary. Widely.

He seems to be unable to appreciate a good thing when he has it, and often does things that one could consider counter-productive.

And Alyssa snorted derisively and said pretty much what I've said here... that she doesn't like abusive assholes. She finds it particularly offensive that he changed his name as soon as he legally could, as she considers it a slap in the face to the man who raised him. I agree with her.

But my dad became very offended. Spouted some rhetoric about 'supporting your family NO MATTER WHAT'. I commented that my daughter had been raised to be truthful and straightforward and to say what she thinks. He growled something about family and got up and lumbered out of the kitchen angrily.

It struck me as odd because of course Lyssa is defending my brother with her words and thoughts. My brother, who raised Joe. Who has been a good husband and father and is a man with a kind heart. A man who has put himself in harm's way and fought in the name of the USA in more than one war. A good man of integrity and compassion.

You need this backstory so I can continue the saga tomorrow.

My Easter Thoughts

I don't believe in the Christian God.

I don't have a problem with other people believing.
I support them 100%, because I sure as hell don't have all the answers.

I just know that their answer isn't my answer.

The only time I have issues with the religious beliefs of others is when they're telling me I need to believe their way or that they think I am somehow less of a person and that I lack morals and kindness and decency and compassion because I lack religion.

No.

I understand the comfort religion brings to people. The rituals and routines and groups spending their time together and helping build each other up. I have no wish to deprive people of that system of beliefs and support for one another.

I was raised in it, so I definitely get it.

And just because I don't believe doesn't mean I lack morals or decency.

And I don't hate God any more than I hate Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy.

I simply don't believe any of those beings exist.
I outgrew all of them.

I spent some time a little over a month ago writing about my own religious upbringing and talked a bit about why I'm no longer there. 

The two part series is posted on Bruce Gerencser's blog.
If you're interested, you can read it here.

When I stop to ponder religion and my lack of it (not often, I really do have a lot of other things to think about in life) I wonder why people believe so deeply in something that has brought so much harm to the world. (religion in general... and I mean all religions, not just Christianity..) So many horrible things have happened in the name of religion throughout history.

"You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do."
Anne Lamott

And from George Carlin...
“Religion has convinced people that there's an invisible man ... living in the sky. Who watches everything you do every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a list of ten specific things he doesn't want you to do. And if you do any of these things, he will send you to a special place, of burning and fire and smoke and torture and anguish for you to live forever, and suffer, and suffer, and burn, and scream, until the end of time.
But he loves you.
He loves you.
He loves you and he needs money.”