Category Archives: Protests

American Politics, Community, Humor, Intentionality, Lifestyle, Moods, Protests, Rage, Reading, Self-Reflection

Reading and Misreading

5 Comments

Let me just say my love of shopping at thrift stores will never wane.

This picture is of the books I picked up on my latest trip to our local Goodwill.

I just finished the one at the top of the pile, “The Bookshop on the Corner”. It was an enjoyable read; a sweet yet meandering story of romance and friendship, riddled with phrasings I was unfamiliar with but nonetheless got the gist of. More than anything, though, it made me want to visit Scotland.

Now the question is, which book shall I tear into next? I’m partial to “Soul Pancake”, written by Rainn Wilson (Dwight Schrute from “The Office”).

If these were your books, which one would you read next?

In other news, I have a short story about one of the other things I picked up at Goodwill that day.

Even if I’m on a mission to find used books or home decor when I walk into a thrift store, I will always end up perusing the racks of clothes when I’m there. I just can’t help myself.

So, after finding the books I’m reading next and a few other random items, I mosey on over to those racks. Knowing that soon I’ll be participating in another anti-tRump administration rally/protest, I’m thrilled to see the *perfect* t-shirt for this (and future such) events.

Dear friends: the t-shirt was light blue and my size. Emblazoned with stars, it read “In My Enraged Era”. As a fan of Taylor Swift (who feels a bit too old to refer to themselves as a “Swiftie”, especially given the fact that I can’t tell you which of her albums resonates with me the most), who is, indeed, quite enraged about the state of America under tRump 2.0, it felt like serendipity.

So, Mr. NOA and I attended the rally/protest that Saturday. I, proudly wearing my cool new t-shirt and holding up the sign I made earlier that morning, was feeling pretty sassy. Having just gotten my hair chopped off and highlighted earlier in the week also boosted my sense of righteous indignation.

It was all (in my head) “I’m enraged and I’m not going to take it anymore” vibes that day.

If you look closely at the t-shirt, you’ll know where the rest of this story is going.

Later that evening, just as I was about to get ready for bed, I happened to glance down at my cool new t-shirt.

Ope! I read the shirt wrong!!!

It actually says “In my engaged era”

In hindsight, I realize this likely was a t-shirt made to be purchased by a newly engaged-to-be-married person to wear to their engagement party.

The irony is that I opened my big mouth on this blog back in January and claimed this was my year of “intentionality”. Yet, being intentional is akin to being “engaged”, right?

And I am engaged: in day-to-day life, engaged with blogging, engaged in my workplace, engaged in the relationships I share with the people I love, engaged with my creative spirit, and engaged in good trouble as an American voter. And I endeavor to maintain this engagement.

So, that’s the story of how I went from enraged to engaged.

Or maybe it’s a story of how we all see what we want to see sometimes and not what is actually there.

Or maybe it’s a lesson for me to continue to engage with my enragement as our administration continues their reckless and evil doings to the people of this country I love.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I’m sharing a Taylor Swift song that best captures the feeling of enragement for me.

Community, democracy, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Optimism, Protests

Flags, Rubik’s Cubes, and Resistance

9 Comments

A few weeks ago, my 11 year-old grandson and I went to our local Dollar General store. As he’s wont to do, he dashed around the store looking for treasures for me to buy for him.

One such treasure was a Rubik’s cube. I pointed out that he already had one, and he informed me that it was misplaced. So, I told him to put it in my cart.

Soon after, the kid was searching for images of flags around the world and happily maneuvering the cube to re-create the images of flags.

“Look Grandma-it’s Belize!”

“Look Grandma-it’s Italy!”

“Look Grandma-it’s Turkey!”

I love his creative, curious spirit.

My Dad, Babe, served in the Korean War. From him, I learned to always respect the flag. He took pride in displaying the American flag in front of our house. He kept it in pristine condition (like he did with virtually every single thing).

Mr. NOA and I were recently on our way in our trusty Tacoma to a medical appointment (no worries, all is well) about 45 minutes away. A house on a corner featured a tRump flag. Two, actually. I instinctively shook my head in frustration upon seeing this particular flag in someone’s yard. Then my eye caught another (tRump) flag on the other side of the yard. Only this one was horribly tattered. It had sun damage and almost appeared to have been the victim of a toddler with a pair of scissors.

Upon pointing it out to Mr. NOA (unfortunately I wasn’t swift enough to capture the image of this forlorn flag), he said “it’s tattered, just like our country is now”. True that, as they say.

I remember a phrase Kamala Harris said often during her ill-fated presidential campaign: it’s a crying shame. She said it about many different things, but often it was about the economic struggles faced by low to mid-income hard-working American families. That really resonated with me, because I felt she was speaking from her heart. She knew that if there was to be a second tRump administration, things would certainly get worse for Americans.

Indeed, things have gotten much, much worse here in the good old U.S.A. On so many levels.

The overwhelm I feel about it all threatens to render me helpless. I think acknowledging that is helpful. As is giving myself permission to retreat from it all from time to time, in an effort to retain my sanity.

Not completely retreat, mind you. I care too much about the future of this country and my fellow citizens for that.

I’ve been doing itty bitty things here and there to stay engaged in the resistance to this evil regime. Like sending postcards to the White House, expressing my disgust of this administration’s willfull resistance to the rule of law. I’ve made calls and sent emails to my state senators, urging them to do the right thing and oppose this administration. Mr. NOA and I attended a rally last weekend in a nearby town, holding signs we made for the occasion. It lifted my spirits to be amongst the 25 or so other folks expressing collective outrage at what is happening to our country.

We plan on attending the next rally, scheduled for the first Saturday in May. My hope is that even more people will join us; perhaps some of the folks driving past us during the first rally who enthusiastically honked their horns and gave us “thumbs ups”.

It seems to me that if every one of us who is against what is happening to democracy in America right now does what they can, what they feel able to do with whatever time/energy/skills they possess, we have a chance at getting this ship turned around and on a better path for us all.

I’ve been on a classic rock and protest song kick lately, so I’ll leave you with this gem.

Adventure, Alphabet Soup Challenge, Covid-19, Moods, Protests, Travel, White Privilege

Alphabet Soup Challenge: D is for Distractions

2 Comments

I could just as well have used the letter “F” in this blog post. As in “F” is for Focus. Or “F” is for frustration. I say that because I’ve been frustrated and distracted these past couple of weeks, leading to a lack of focus on this blog of mine. Hence the reason I failed to publish a post last week.

But back to the word “distraction”.

When I googled it (you know, to help me to focus), I found two definitions: 1) a thing that prevents someone from giving full attention to something else, and 2) Extreme agitation of the mind or emotions.

These days, I’m relating to both of these descriptions.

That’s because there is something, something very good mind you, that in this past week has prevented me from giving my full attention to blogging.

But in this post I can’t not talk about the turmoil going on out there in our country and our world. The “something very bad” distraction. The distraction that is exemplified by the extreme agitation of my mind and emotions right now: more black lives being extinguished by whites. The thought of Covid-19 cases spiking everywhere with all the protests that resulted from the sheer and justifiable anger of the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis (and the multiple murders by police and white supremacists in other places in recent years). Chaos everywhere with more to come. And a completely inept administration at the helm.

It’s overwhelming and heart wrenching for all of us, most notably the black community. I’m working out how best to respond, because I feel it’s imperative to do so. To find a way to be a helper. To support the fight for racial justice and combat racism in America. I will donate financially to the cause. I’ve signed a petition online to demand an overhaul of policing in this country. And of course, I will keep praying about it. And I will remain open to suggestions on other ways to respond in a useful way.

So putting out a peppy little blog post last week wasn’t in the cards for me. And this week it’s a challenge, but as you can see, I’m doing it anyway.

The “something very good” distraction for me (and Hubs) right now, is that in honor of our 30th wedding anniversary and because we were itching to re-connect with our outdoorsy sides, we bought a new camper.

Yes, that one, physically tangible thing that I’ve had a picture of on my vision board since I first created it. It’s ours now. A second home, just on wheels.

So in the midst of this unprecedented moment in American history, we are blessed with the ability to be able to pack up our camper and head out to explore the wonder of nature in Colorado and beyond.

This is the part of the post where I was going to wax on about the responsibility of owning a camper. The time, physical, and mental energy that we have spent on obtaining it, getting it set up, and trying to find a storage unit for it as well as a campground that actually has openings in the age of Covid-19.

But in the scheme of things, that would be fucking ridiculous. I am white. I have a roof (now two) over my head. Gainful employment. The ability to safely exist in public. Health care. Essentially much of what too many in the black community don’t have. Which is completely unfair and needs to change.