These Are The Days

Smart ~ Writer ~ Mom

Month: February 2016

Still Not Listening To My Husband

My husband says I need to stop responding to stupidity on social media. Perhaps he’s right.

But when I see people post glowing reviews of Donald Trump, I can’t help myself. Like him, they talk in generalizations. He’s a straight-talker. No bullshit guy. Tells it like it is. Doesn’t pussyfoot around. Is gonna be tough.

OK. I can talk in generalizations too. He’s a racist. Ignorant. Narcissist. Inflated egomaniac. Bombastic and inflammatory. Fear-mongering. And oh yes, an all-around dipshit.

This past weekend, I commented on a friend’s post on Facebook about a comment the conservative pundit Matt Walsh wrote regarding the rise of Donald Trump. My comment was benign – basically saying that while I disagree with Walsh 99.99% of the time, on this particular point he was right on the money. Friends of the friend who originally posted this article began commenting proclaiming their support of Trump.

I couldn’t help myself.

It was a war of words and I am proud to say I didn’t curse or insult or dismiss my way out of anything. I presented facts and quotes but they were met with insults by a self-proclaimed “good Catholic woman” who ended up saying I was a “piece of shit” for suggesting she was a damn fool for voting for Trump. Several friends came to my defense, including the original friend that made the post. This woman was way out of line – and unfortunately, found herself to be squarely in the demographic to which Trump panders. Checkmate.

So much fear. Fear of foreigners. Fear of other religions. Fear of black people. Fear of losing power, status, authority.

What is the world coming to?


And then.

Maybe the moon is in a wacky phase or maybe as my husband says, I just like to be right ­čÖé but I also couldn’t help myself earlier tonight when someone made a ridiculous comment on a news article online. It was about a scholarship created in memory of a young African-American woman who died recently. She had been an aspiring criminal justice lawyer so her family created a fund to support other women of color who want to enter this profession. Some gentleman (ahem) cried reverse racism and asked why it was only available for women of color? Why not ALL women? That’s reverse racism against white women!

I very succinctly commented that women of color are traditionally underrepresented in this field and thus the funds were going to encourage other young women of color to consider this line of work. To which I was met with the written equivalent of nanni nanni boo boo I say it’s racist and that’s that. What’s he afraid of? Being left out? Someone having more power than him? Did I mention he was a white guy?

I suppose it’s true that you can’t fix stupid. I moved on, dismissing it as an anomaly. An aberration. People aren’t really that delusional and ignorant and fearful, are they?

And then. 

I guess it’s just been one of those days for me.


Actual slide from their presentation. Source: Inside Higher Ed

Because later, after I put my little one to bed, I scrolled through Twitter and saw an article about the University of Houston and their new open carry policy for students. They are coaching their faculty on how to handle students who will now be permitted to carry guns in the classroom. The widely-respected Inside Higher Education┬áincluded an actual slide presentation that tells faculty how they should be careful and not “go there” and to “be careful when discussing sensitive topics” and to “drop certain topics from the curriculum.”┬áIf this isn’t a slippery slope, I don’t know what is. College is supposed to be an environment that supports the free exchange of ideas. Not a place where faculty never discuss anything controversial for fear of being shot. What is the world coming to?

I have a tendency to reply with sarcasm and / or passive aggression (I see your surprised look). But you know what? When I believe in something, I believe in it all the way. Which is why this sort of pisses me off. Shame on you, University of Houston for supporting open carry, cowering to the powerful gun culture, and diminishing the learning power of your faculty, your students, and your institution.

And then. AND THEN. I decide to settle in and relax a little, but make the mistake of scrolling through Facebook. When will I learn? Then, I see this:┬áFlorida Brevard County School Board Kills LGBT Proposal. Short story: Lots of people showed up – of the 90 that spoke, all were against a non-discrimination policy for LGBT people in the school district. Against it. Not special treatment, just civil rights. Someone said “this isn’t San Francisco, this is Brevard County.” Fear. What are they afraid of? Gay people? Transgender people? Shame on you, Florida. And again I ask, what is this world coming to?

12745895_1138917692833254_5009220690303772175_nAnd omg finally I see this on a friend’s Facebook feed. Now. This image has so many things wrong with it that I hardly know where to start. All I will say is yes,┬áit is my body.┬áYes, per the law, it IS my choice.

I am pro-choice and I realize that not everyone is and I respect that. But here’s the thing. Abortion is legal. That’s a fact.

Personally, I have never nor would ever consider abortion; however, I – like the majority of the country – believe that it is not my place (moral or otherwise) to impose my personal belief on any other woman.

If you don’t believe in abortion, then don’t have one.

I don’t believe in abortion, and although my body is screeching toward menopause as I type, should my body surprise me one more time in my golden years (which is totally not possible because I had my tubes tied but omg), I still wouldn’t consider this as an option FOR ME. But you know what? I would never tell YOU what to do or what to choose. And here’s the thing. Your choice doesn’t affect me.

(Worth noting that I chose NOT to comment or post about this image at all. I’m passionate, but I’m not stupid.)

Oh boy it’s been a long time since I’ve used my blog to purge the endless conversations in my mind. Tonight was one of those nights. Dear reader, if anyone is still reading this far down, thank you.

Sometimes I have all of the big feelings and an unstoppable need to share.

Sometimes I should heed the words of my husband and just “not engage” with the stupidity that sometimes is the internet.

Someday I’ll learn.

52 Weeks of Sisterhood: At the Music Store

Our local music store is like something out of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. I’m dating myself here, but remember that little music shop? Please say I’m not alone here.

Anyway, the music shop on his show had every kind of instrument and our store does, too. Trumpets, clarinets, saxophones, violins, violas, cellos, and guitars of all kinds.

We usually arrive about 10 minutes early for my 11yo’s weekly guitar lesson and so the game is on to see how many instruments both of my girls can try out in the showroom before the lesson begins. They usually check out the bongos or the piano – bypassing the standard little kid instruments like maracas, triangles and cowbells. (which is a shame because everyone knows what you really need is MORE COWBELL).

Today, all the instruments were otherwise occupied so my little musicians gravitated to one of my all-time favorites: the drums. I’ve always had an affinity for drummers. In fact, now that I think of it, I’ve dated three drummers in my little life. Weird.


Let’s just say my girls are not drummers. Well, not yet. Who knows? Maybe one of them will want to take lessons. Until then, I will spare you the video of random banging of snares and share this photo instead.

music store



This post is part of #MicroblogMondays.










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