The Real Texas Grandma

I was really saddened by the death of Governor Ann Richards. I first met Gov. Ann in about 1981ish at a Democratic Party function at the old Union Station in Dallas. I'll never forget meeting her and shaking her hand as she looked me squarely in the eyes, smiled broadly and said in a Texas drawl so thick you had to cut it with a hack saw, "Eeyt iz soooo niiice to meet yewwww....". I was instantly awestruck. Even then the helmet of white hair was present and she could be seen clearly from across the room.

I had the pleasure of being around her two more times in the next couple of years, both times at the capitol when I was working as a lobbyist in 1983. She always had this wonderful presence.

Bill Clinton was in town today to accompany her casket into the rotunda of the capitol. Clinton called Richards “Texas on parade.” “For 30-plus years, that is certainly what she was to me and Hillary,” he said. “First she was big: big hair, big bright eyes, big blinding smile. She also had a big heart, big dreams, did big deeds.” Indeed. Gov. Ann opened the door to a state government that had, for too long, been the domain of white, straight, male bigots.

I'm gonna go to the memorial on Monday and say goodbye.

Monday, September 18, 2006

I did attend the memorial today at the Erwin Center along with about 4,000 others. Gov. Ann was pretty well liked. The attendees ran the gamut of humanity, black, white, latino, asian, gay, straight, male, female, some seemingly wealthy, some seemingly rather poor. These were the people Ann Richards represented. In other words, everyone.

There was a lot of laughter and a few tears. Sen Hillary Clinton spoke and I must say, having had some feelings of ambivilence about her, she was masterful in this situation. "She went into government because she didn't want her tombstone to read, 'She kept a clean house,' " Clinton said. "Instead, she went into government and cleaned house. Her longstanding advice to young women, Clinton said, is timeless: "Set your own course. Dream your own dreams. Go to places you want to go, even if no one has gone there before. Stand your ground."

I read a story about Gov Ann that Molly Ivins has shared before and it speaks volumes about who Ann Richards was and why I liked her so much. The story, as told by Ivins, goes as follows:

At a long-ago political do at Scholz Garten in Austin, everybody who was anybody was there meetin' and greetin' at a furious pace. A group of us got the tired feet and went to lean our butts against a table at the back wall of the bar. Perched like birds in a row were Bob Bullock, then state comptroller, moi, Charles Miles, the head of Bullock's personnel department, and Ms. Ann Richards. Bullock, 20 years in Texas politics, knew every sorry, no good sumbitch in the entire state. Some old racist judge from East Texas came up to him, 'Bob, my boy, how are you?"
Bullock said, "Judge, I'd like you to meet my friends: This is Molly Ivins with the Texas

Observer."

The judge peered up at me and said, "How yew, little lady?"

Bullock said, "And this is Charles Miles, the head of my personnel department." Miles, who is black, stuck out his hand, and the judge got an expression on his face as though he had just stepped into a fresh cowpie. He reached out and touched Charlie's palm with one finger, while turning eagerly to the pretty, blonde, blue-eyed Ann Richards. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Ann beamed and replied, "I am Mrs. Miles."

Bleh!

I have been in an total funk lately with the absolute indifference I have over my job. I've reached a point where there is no challenge, little that is enjoyable, ample aggravation and I frequently don't give a crappola about the customer. Not a good place to be in a job where I spend 40+ hours a week.

For my millions of readers (ok, maybe just 5 or 6), let me explain that I'm a insurance agent for a major, Fortune 500 company and am currently a licensed agent in 20 states. Or, as Velvetsaje so succinctly stated once, I'm a customer service bitch. My job consists of taking between 70 and 120 calls a day from customers who have 70 to 120 different attitudes, 70 to 120 different levels of intelligence, 70 to 120 different concepts of personal responsibility, and 70 to 120 different feelings about insurance companies. Now, not all of these are bad interactions; on an average day, 50-60% of the calls are easy and hassle free and the customers are friendly, reasonable individuals. Now, the other 40%........well, let's just say that the company I work for does not require its customers to necessarily be friendly, civil, reasonable or literate. No, the only requirement is to have the ability to pay an insurance premium. That's it. Period.

The other 40% has been a challenge for me for some time. First, let me explain that I like people. More specifically, I like pleasant people. I really like pleasant people who can ask questions in a complete sentences (kind of like I like President's who can speak in complete sentences) and have some basic clue of what's happening with their own bank account. These are not the people I encounter in the 40%. A great number of those are people who have their premiums drafted directly out of their bank accounts and, almost inevitibly, they are having banking issues because they have failed to keep up with when and how much is being drafted from their accounts. Now I'll save my feelings about EFT for another time (it's the work of Satan, 'nuff said), but let me just say that if you choose to allow a huge company to have access to your bank account, if you VOLUNTARILY GIVE THEM your bank account and routing numbers, you best stay totally on top of withdrawel dates, amounts, clearing time, changes to amounts as they are communicated to you and how much you have in you bank account. Oh, and you should also not be completely surprised if, once in a while, the huge company withdraws some amount in error (which they will of course correct for you in due time...glacial time).

The company is big on me making "empathy statements" to the customer. "I can imagine how frightening the accident was" or "I know how difficult it is to pay high insurance premiums (especially when you have 5 DWI's, 10 speeding tickets and 4 at fault accidents) maam". Sometimes, the best empathy statement I can muster is, "I'm sorry you can't keep track of your bank account or seemingly perform simple addition and subtraction, Sir. It must really suck to be that inept." Probably not what the company is looking for.

On the positive side, there are things I love about my company and job. I love the hours; I work 10:30-7:30 and enjoy having relaxed mornings and no commute during rush hour. I love my income. It's not huge but it's sufficient to meet all my needs and many of my wants. I love the stability of the company; they'll be here 5 or 10 years from now and probably much longer. I completely love my insurance benefits; I dont pay much for it and, in addition to all your usual coverage for doctors visits to just about any kinda of MD and or specialist I might need to see, I have amazing prescription drug coverage and I can see chiropractors, acupuncturists and massage therapists (I kid you not!) all for little or no copay. I love the fact that if I dont feel like shaving or if the most dressed up I can get is shorts and a t-shirt, that's perfectly ok with the company.

But I sure am apathetic.....no, make that burned out on my day to day duties. I'm capable of far more than what I'm doing and while I really do like helping people, I have a low tolerence for caca. Much of my job is dealing with people's BS and I am reminded everyday that there are a lot of people who's lives are built around BS.

As Sam Cooke said, "A Change Is Gonna Come"...............................

Off by 9%? What Was That Margin in 2000? 2004?

A recent meeting of the House Science Committee heard testimony on the reliability of voting machines. "It would take somebody relatively unsophisticated to hack into a machine," reports Rep. Darlene Hooley, D-Ore. "The biggest problem isn't hacking, but programming errors. In some cases, the margin of error is 9 percent." Say what?

"The election system in its entirety exhibits shortcomings with extremely serious consequences," wrote Steven Hertzberg, director of the study by the San Francisco-based Election Science Institute, "especially in the case of a close election." If I recall correctly, we are in the mess we are in called Iraq because the Supreme Court installed W after less than a 1% difference in Florida in 2000. The mess was exacerbated after the administration was allowed to remain in office in 2004 after a vote difference of less than 2%.

Congress, despite this hearing, doesn't seem overly concerned by this 9% error in a country that calls itself a role model for democracy. A bill by Rep. Rush Holt, D-N.J., to require paper trails for any voting system has collected more than 200 signatures in the House, but the leadership won't allow a vote. The Republican leadership. The leadership of the party who'd president won by less than 2% in both the last 2 elections.

The midterm Congressional elections are now just over 2 months away and I have a very uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

One Word on Ann Coulter

Skanky.

Organic Grapefruit/Lemon Juice.....oh, and Vodka

Since I quit dopin' and boozin' (I was really a bigger doper, I just used booze to "soup up"the benzos), I've been exploring tasty, strange and exotic non-alcholic juices, waters and other beverages. I've discovered an Italian soda that Central Market makes that comes in a variety of flavors.

I was in the store a couple of weeks back stocking up on my grapefruit/lemon Italian soda as well as apple-lemon-ginger juice, vanilla flavored soy protein powder, good spices.......oh, and I also always grab a handful of roasted, salted macadamia nuts which are $14.95 a pound but gratis if you just grab a few and are "sampling". I'd made my circuitous route through the store and was in line to check out. I'd set all my goods on the conveyor belt and as the cashier was ringing me up, a fellow behind me commented on my juice.

"That's really wonderful stuff, huh?" "Yeah, I'm downright addicted to the stuff....I love it" I said, studying the man's puffy profile and swollen, baggy eyes. "It's a little pricy though" he said. "Yep" I replied, "but since I quit drinking booze, it's a tasty luxury I can afford."

"You should try it with vodka. It's really good" he said in is seemingly unaware state.

Hello? What?

365 Days

365 days ago, I checked myself into treatment or, as one old geezer member of my 12 step group insists I should call it, rehab. This means, that I've been clean and sober for a year now which, considering that virtually every day from the time I was 14 until a year ago I was in some way chemically altered (that's almost 30 years folks), is truly remarkable. In this last year, there has amazingly only been one time when I had a strong desire to alter the way I felt with chemicals and that was brief and very quickly dealt with.

My life has improved dramatically in so many ways. I'm reconnecting with family while, at the same time, limiting any contact that would threaten my stability. I'm also reconnecting with some old friends while other old friends have faded into the proverbial woodwork. My romantic life actually is humming right along as I've discovered that some guys actually find my being clear and present is attractive. Wow! My health and physical fitness are at a peak. My job with the insurance company, while at times frustrating, is solid and provides a good income and excellent benefits. More often than not, I'm having a good day and because I am truly grateful for all that I have, I feel much joy.

Life is good and I'm moving on.

When My Sobriety Gets Jeopardized

I'm writing this at 5am, having woken up after 4 and a half hours sleep. It took me two hours to fall sleep when I laid down at 10:30pm. For the first time in the almost year that I've been sober, last night I had a really strong desire for xanax washed down with a glass of good whiskey.

I've known for a month now that I would have 12 days of repeated family situations which, for me, tend to be frought with peril in terms of high levels of anxiety. I've prayed, I've meditated, I've gotten massage, acupuncture and chiropractic. I've spoken openly in the 12 step meetings I go to about the concerns I have. I've talked with the psychiatrist I see once a month. I've done everything I can think of to prepare myself mentally and physically for the stress I was sure would ensue.

Nonetheless, I found myself wanting the xanax/Makers Mark combo just a few hours ago. The situtation that developed came from a sibling who I was around for two nights in a row. This person has had some rather intense medical treatment recently for what was a potentially life threatening illness so their energy/stamina levels have been low. I understand this and I empathize with how draining the treatments must be especially when combined with the Texas summer heat. Two nights in a row I've been around this sibling as we went out and attempted to celebrate with a niece who's in town and last night with my mother for her birthday. Both nights this sibling acted disrespectfully to me and to my mother. Not just disrespectfully, but like an ill mannered, self absorbed child. This sibling is over the half century mark in age.

The medical situation may, to a degree, explain the mental condition this person is in. It does does not, however, excuse infantile, abusive, boorish behavior. I was around a lot of gravely ill (and dying for that matter) friends in the late 80's and early 90's. Professionals and caretakers who dealt with them would always remind those of us who were involved that when the sick individual acted out in such a way as to be hurtful and abusive, it was OK to try to understand what they were going through but to remember they didn't have a license to act like a jackass simply because they were ill.

Today I'm supposed to take this sibling and the niece to another niece's wedding. Moved heaven and earth to make it happen in terms of changing my schedule at work (which was really, really not easy), getting right mentally to be around lots of family that I haven't seen in well over a year, buying clothes and setting aside money for gas (the wedding is a good hour and a half drive from Austin). After writing all this, I realize how tired and drained I am and how I don't have it in me for anymore drama from this relative or any other. For me, the costs of dealing with someone who has made the choice to act like this are too great. Additionally, I've reached a point where I am no longer able to excuse this sibling's continual beration of our mother. I've had it.

Almost a year ago, I decided my substance use and behavior had to change. I worked hard to do just that and my life, outlook and relationships are improving in enormous ways. I wish this relative would make some similar changes but that's not up to me. What is up to me is deciding not to be around this person if they are going to act like this and to tell them in no uncertain terms that treating our mother as they have been is not ok.

I'm not going to use chemicals to change how I feel over all this. But I sure wanted to.

What the American Flag Stands For by Charlotte Aldebron, age 12

The American flag stands for the fact that cloth can be very important. It is against the law to let the flag touch the ground or to leave the flag flying when the weather is bad. The flag has to be treated with respect. You can tell just how important this cloth is because when you compare it to people, it gets much better treatment. Nobody cares if a homeless person touches the ground. A homeless person can lie all over the ground all night long without anyone picking him up, folding him neatly and sheltering him from the rain.

School children have to pledge loyalty to this piece of cloth every morning. No one has to pledge loyalty to justice and equality and human decency. No one has to promise that people will get a fair wage, or enough food to eat, or affordable medicine, or clean water, or air free of harmful chemicals. But we all have to promise to love a rectangle of red, white, and blue cloth.

Betsy Ross would be quite surprised to see how successful her creation has become. But Thomas Jefferson would be disappointed to see how little of the flag's real meaning remains.

Charlotte Aldebron, 12, wrote this essay for a competition in her 6th grade English class. She attends Cunningham Middle School in Presque Isle, Maine.

Carlos

I first saw you when I began volunteering at the warehouse. I sat there mindlessly inspecting the cassettes for the blind and you descended the metal stairs in front of me. I was immediately struck by the smoldering carnalism that flowed from every inch of your sinewy body. There was no way not to notice you as your searing presence would not be ignored. I knew when I saw you that the torrid lust that erupted from within me would be wholly satisfied.

On every visit I've studied you intensely. You are taller than I am, easily six foot and quite syphlike. Your expansive shoulders top a torso that narrows past your thick, solid chest and smooth, taut abdomen, down to a naturally tapered waist. Your smoothly muscled, lanky legs descend from a diminutive pair of buttocks that roll delicately from the small of your back. The low rise jeans you favor fit you well and disclose the protracted, leaden component of your manhood and your inclination to wear boxers.

Semi-curly, un-tamed, black hair tops your profile which is usually veiled by a days growth of beard. Your Latin heritage is evident in your linear face, a face that frames a pair of incandescent, brown eyes. It's your eyes that ignite my desire. When you look at me, those narrow, amorous eyes speak in a language that decidedly communicates a coarse sensuality which states to me that you will have what you want in the manner you choose to have it.

Our trysts throughout the warehouse have been the most animalistic, torrid encounters of my life. Impelled by you onto the immediate surface of our transient beds, the savage force with which we battered our lust would fracture titanium. Our vigorous unifications have left me spent, gratified, and complete. It's you that I think of when I must trek to the warehouse for I know that you will quench my lust in a way no one else has......ever......

if only in my mind...........

Some New Links

I've added some new daily read links on the right hand side of this blog. They are:

James' Site : I dated James the first few months of this year. I count that experience as one of the best since my recovery. James is a thoughtful, sweet, vivacious individual and quite a writer. When we trade emails while at work, the few sentences that will take me an hour to hammer out in between distractions are the part of the first of three paragraphs that James will send in a matter of minutes. Quick mind, cute guy, nice person. I'm blessed to have him in my life.

Caperton Classic Art : This is the business site of a friend I know through 12 step meetings. He has an amazing number of classic art prints available including some beautiful male nudes (ok, my personal favorites, it's true). Please take time to peruse his gallery.

Messopotamian Blog : This is a blog by an Iraqi who, as best I can tell, lives in or around Baghdad. He gives an insiders view of what's happening there something that we, as Americans, rarely get from US media. It aint pretty.

George W Bush - The Record

LAW ENFORCEMENT: He was arrested in Kennebunkport, Maine , in 1976 for driving under the influence of alcohol. He pled guilty, paid a fine, and had his driver's license suspended for 30 days. His Texas driving record has been "lost" and is not available.

MILITARY: He joined the Texas Air National Guard and went AWOL. He refused to take a drug test or answer any questions about his drug use. By joining the Texas Air National Guard, he was able to avoid combat duty in Vietnam.

COLLEGE: He graduated from Yale University with a low C average. He was a cheerleader.

PAST WORK EXPERIENCE: He ran for U.S. Congress and lost. He began his career in the oil business in Midland,Texas in 1975. He bought an oil company but couldn't find any oil in Texas . The company went bankrupt shortlyafter he sold all his stock. He bought the Texas Rangers baseball team in a sweetheart deal that took land using taxpayer money. With the help of his father and his father's friends in the oil industry, including Enron CEO Ken Lay, he was elected governor of Texas.

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS GOVERNOR OF TEXAS: He changed Texas pollution laws to favor power and oil companies, making Texas the most polluted state in the Union. He set the record for the most executions by any governor in American history.
He cut taxes and bankrupted the Texas treasury to the tune of billions in borrowed money.
With the help of his brother, the governor of Florida, and his father's appointments to the Supreme Court, he became President after losing the popular vote by over 500,000 votes.

RECORDS AND REFERENCES: All records of his tenure as governor of Texas are now in his father's library, sealed and unavailable for public view. All records of SEC investigations into his insider trading and his bankrupt companies are sealed in secrecy and unavailable for public view. All records or minutes from meetings that he, or his Vice-President, attended regarding public energy policy are sealed in secrecy and unavailable for public review.

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS PRESIDENT: He became the first President in U.S. history to enter office with a criminal record. He invaded and occupied two countries at a continuing cost of over one billion dollars per week.
He spent the U.S. surplus and effectively bankrupted the U.S. Treasury
He shattered the record for the largest annual deficit in U.S. history.
He set an economic record for most private bankruptcies filed in any 12-month period.
He set the all-time record for most foreclosures in a 12-month period.
His largest lifetime campaign contributor, and one of his best friends, Kenneth Lay, presided over the largest corporate bankruptcy fraud in U.S. history, Enron.
He changed the U.S. policy to allow convicted criminals to be awarded government contracts.
He appointed more convicted criminals to administration than any President in U.S. history.
He's broken more international treaties than any President in U.S. history.
He garnered the most sympathy for the U.S.after the World Trade Center attacks and less than a year later made the U.S. the most hated country in the world, the largest failure of diplomacyin world history.
He set the all-time record for most people worldwide to simultaneously protest him in public venues (15 million people), shattering the record for protests against any person in the history of mankind.
He has cut health care benefits for war veterans and supports a cut in duty benefits for active duty troops and their families-in-wartime.In his State of the Union Address, he lied about our reasons for attacking Iraq and then blamed the lies on our British friends.

He has so far failed to fulfill his pledge to bring Osama Bin Laden to justice.

I Always Thought He Was Big Dick Anyway

This is just too much fun!

Limbaugh Detained Over Viagra

From one old pill head to another Rush, make sure you have an Rx next time you're holding drugs. By the way Rush, does this mean that there is actually someone out there who would have sex with you? Or that you're just really hopeful? Either way, ewwwwwwwww!

Reconnecting With An Old Friend (not a friend that's old)

Recently it's been running through my head the many friends that I've had that, for assorted reasons, I've fallen out of contact with. This seems to be how it is in life. You make acquaintances in different settings, some of them become friends, some of those seem to stay in contact for years on end while others move on and you lose touch.

After not having heard from "Kev" in several months, either via phone call or email, I decided to write him an old fashioned, USPS delivered, letter. Kev and I first met at a bar in Corpus Christi called The Other Door in about 1987. We became friends through hanging out and our mutual involvement in local theater. I'll always treasure the "Best Actor" statue that Kev gave me after I got a rave review in the Corpus Christi Caller Times (we're talking big time now!) for my performace in a one act play called "Lone Star" which Kev talked me into auditioning for and acting in.

We maintained that friendship through my move to San Diego and Kev's move to Key West. Kev, if I remember correctly, moved for love and I moved because I loved California. Many months passed after those moves where we lost touch with each other but eventually we would be in contact and catch up on where we were and what was going on. Kev eventually made the move to Los Angeles which allowed us to visit one another since I was just down the road in San Diego.

I recall so many great get togethers. There was a weekend that Kev came to celebrate his birthday and rented a limo for a night on the town that included dinner at The Hotel del Coronado. Great night it was even if the details are a bit fuzzy. There was a day/night of revelry in Tijuana the details of which, well, we'll just keep those between the participants. Suffice to say that it was a long trip back across the boarder. A longgggg trip with a lot of ups and downs! Kev knows stories about me that I'm glad only he knows and for this, I am grateful.

I ended up back in Corpus Christi after my foray into SoCal and am now, of course, in Austin. Kev remained in LA where he has worked for a large law firm for several years now and had sent warm greetings when I got through rehab some 10+ months ago. I got busy with getting back into and on with life and some time passed before I realized that I hadn't heard from Kev in a while. So I wrote him and this week I recieved an email back.

Kev has had some trying times: the death of both parents in the last two years, his own experience with a bad case of shingles and the reminder that our health and life is a fragile thing and must be lived as if each day is the last.

As he and I move towards 45 (we are just a couple of months apart in age but I'm older has Kev is inclined to gleefully point out), we're at that great point in life where one can look back on a good deal of life experience and also look forward to all that is still possible. Knowing that he is ok and that he's been part of my life for so long warms my heart.

Friends Rock and So Does the New Apartment!

I haven't posted since seeing The Breakup due to the fact that I moved last weekend and everything surrounding those dates has either involved preparation for the move or recovery from the move. There were countless trips down the stairs from my 2nd floor place and countless trips up the stairs to my new 2nd floor place (to think I almost moved to a 3rd floor!) leaving me with a strained knee and no zip for the last few days. But I'm in now and I love it! It's bright and sunny, has a nice layout, a large L shaped balcony (I mean really large!) with a pool view in a complex with huge oak trees and quiet neighbors. I'm jazzed.

I'm also jazzed about the fact that three friends offered to help me move. I didn't have to beg, bribe, cajole or plead, they just offered. Offered. Of their own free will. Amazing. The one with the most hours and trips up and down stairs was VelvetSaje who, despite the heat (nothing like 100 degree temps to make you wish you weren't moving), never complained, not even once. There was Mike, from my 12 Step group, who helped with the "sacred", antique makeup table (a table that my mother unnecessarily obsesses about everytime I move...it hasn't been damaged yet despite her absolute certainty that it will be!). The next morning JN, my former squeeze and still faithful friend, made one trip with his truck that would have taken me 5 in the vehicle I was using. Oh lawdy, do I feel blessed!

Needless to say, the next time any of these three move, they have someone already signed up to help.

The Best Part of The Break Up

I went yesterday to see The Break Up, the just released "romantic comedy" with Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn. Normally, I couldn't give a rat's patootie about seeing something like this in the theater....would much rather wait until it comes out on DVD and watch it at home. If then.

The movie got old after about 10 minutes. As my mother put it, listening to a couple argue and fight (which is the basis for the whole film) wears on your nerves rather quickly. I'm not a fan of either actor unlike seemingly most of the country and even seeing Ann Margaret wasn't too exciting.

What was exciting and the reason we paid to see this in the theater was the fact that The Old 97's appear in the "break up" scene towards the end of the movie. Now that was worth waiting for! The Old 97's are fronted my my nephew, Rhett Miller, who is enjoying a rather notable year with the release of his second solo album, The Believer. The scene was actually shot at a 97's show in Chicago and there are a couple of brief close ups of Rhett although the entire scene lasts less than a couple of minutes.

The movie would have been SO much better with more Old 97's and less Jen and Vince!

The Theft of Democracy

Day in and day out the news brings us revelation after revelation of the bumbling, perverse, crooked antics of W and his gang. It's so bad, I haven't even been able to write about it...it just makes me physically ill when I think about the damage this bunch has done to this country. Of course, yesterday W was on the radio pushing the the effort to enshrine discrimination into the Constitution in the form of a ban on gay marriage. No better time to revive your pointy headed base than when you're at Nixonian levels in the polls. With five months to go to the elections, my imagination simply races with the emergencies, terror threats and social agenda that the neocons will come up with in order to mitigate or prevent their losses come November.

What bothers me most about these thieves is how they got into power. Think way back to November of 2000 and you'll recall that there was that little fiasco about who really won the election. That question went all the way to the Supremes who awarded the issue to W and installed him as President. Realizing that we (theoretically) live under the rule of law, Al Gore conceded the election despite a great deal of evidence the election was stolen.

Many of us held out hope that we'd see an end to this morally bankrupt administration in 2004. Indeed, the night of the election, exit polls seemed to indicate that we would as there was every indication that Kerry would win Ohio and, therefore, the Presidency. But the result was four more years of the incompetence and thievery we'd been experiencing. According to a well written and researched article by Robert F. Kennedy Jr in Rolling Stone, "Was the 2004 Election Stolen?" , it appears that Republicans stopped over 350,000 Ohio voters from casting ballots or having their votes counted which would have been more then enough to have put John Kerry in the White House. If this is true, then our system of government has suffered a crime on par with the election thefts of many third world countries, not once but twice.

This is a ruthless bunch and I fear that we are only one "terrorist" attack away from martial law and a brutal dictatorship. I have no faith that the truth will ever make it out to the mainstream media.

One Time I Listened to My Sixth Sense

While reading the book that I mentioned in my previous post, I've been reflecting on times when I've been "been highly aware of the subtleties of my environment including the subtleties of people's body language, word choice and inflection." There was one time when this ability served me well.

In 1989 I moved to San Diego where I lived for several years. It was a great experience and broadened my horizons immeasurably. Within a year of moving there, I met a guy at a night club, Andrew DeSilva. Andrew was charming, intelligent and handsome. There was also something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on...something that just caused my inner voice to make me approach with caution. Andrew and I went out a couple of times. He wanted to keep seeing me and called me a number of times but I let it go and didn't pursue him in any way. I never could articulate to myself why but I just felt it better that I not. I would see him around town once in a while and he seemed to run in a fast crowd, as did I, albeit different crowds. I ended up moving back to Texas and didn't think of Andrew DeSilva for several years.

In July of 1997 the news was seized with the story of a killer making his way across the country. I didn't recognized the name, Andrew Cunanan, but when I saw the picture that flashed on CNN, I had a very sick feeling. Cunanan was known to me as Andrew DeSilva, the same person that my inner voice had said stay away from 7 years earlier. He'd murdered four people in a cross-country journey during a three-month period. He then murdered Gianne Versace on July 15, 1997 on the steps of Versace's Miami Beach mansion and, eight days later on July 23, Cunanan committed suicide in the upstairs bedroom aboard a Miami houseboat apparently to avoid capture by the police.

One never knows where life will take you or whom you might encounter. I'm just reminded how fortunate I am to have good gut instincts.

Highly Sensitive Me

A friend recently loaned me a book called The Highly Sensitive Person which I've only just begun to read. The few pages I've read have brought home a realization that I seem to fall into the 1/5th of the population that falls into the "highly sensitive" category. Now the term "highly sensitive" conjures up someone who takes things too personally and is easily hurt but this is not what the book and the label refer to.

The title refers to some people's tendencies to:

* Be highly aware of the subtleties of their environment including the subtleties of people's body language, word choice and inflection;

* Be very sensitive to pain;

* Find themselves needing to withdraw during busy days to the solace of a quiet, private place;

* Be easily overwhelmed by things like bright lights, strong smells, or loud noises;

* Be deeply moved by the arts or music;

* Notice and enjoy delicate or fine scents, tastes and sounds;

* Make it a high priority to avoid upsetting or overwhelming situations;

* Become unpleasantly aroused when a lot is going on around them.

OK, a light bulb went on! All of these things seem so very familiar to me. I've often felt that I noticed things about people and situations that others miss. Indeed, I have a sibling who has just the opposite tendency - they are absolutely, totally unaware of most subtleties, especially those involving people. It seems that I pick up on how people say things, the inflection they use, their body language, a look in their eye and also on the things they don't say. I've referred to it as my Sixth Sense.

My sensitivity to pain is well known by close relatives, especially my mother. She has advised me that, even as a small child, I seemed to feel pain very deeply and intensely. This may have been a factor in my affinity for pain medication when I had any physical discomfort.

I've been acutely aware since my trip to treatment that making sure my schedule didn't get too full had to be a priority. When I get too many balls in the air, I get overwhelmed and anxious. Not a good thing for me. I'm also cognizant of how important quiet, alone time is for me. If I don't get it, I feel cranky, unfocused and get rather surley and let's not even talk about the affect that loud noises (car alarms, ringing cell phones, babies crying) have on my nervous system.

So far the book seems enlightening and empowering.

An Open Letter to the 16%

Dear 16%:

I've been noticing the polls lately and it seems that the President is down to about 32% that approve of his performance. In the 2004 election, he won with just under 51% of the vote (such a mandate!) and in the 2000 election.....well, let's just not even go there. So if you do a little math, that leaves 16% of the public, you guys, that seemed to think that W was doing an OK enough job that you should vote for his re-election.

Consider these figures: 49% of us knew, knew in our hearts, that W shouldn't occupy the Oval Office. 32% seem to think W hung the moon (indeed, the Prez could probably sacrifice his mother atop an alter on the South Lawn of the White House - which personally I'd be in favor of... she's evil too - while wearing a pink tutu and drinking her blood and the 32% would still think he's a swell guy). Now you 16% seem to be the ones who waver back and forth between approving and disapproving of his this dangerous buffoon. Let's talk for a minute, k?

When you don't pay close attention and you throw your vote to someone because you like their ads, you don't like the other candidate very much or you don't feel like taking the time to research their background, there are consequences. In this case the consequences have been quite costly to all of us. Think about it.

Your careless votes got us a President who took us to war with a country which had never attacked us and did not threaten us. In the process, we've spent well over $87 billion and the cost estimates indicate that before we're done that figure will be in the $1-2.5 trillion range. That could buy a lot of health care folks. Additionally, Iraq is now, by W's State Department's own admission, a hotbed of terrorism. It wasn't before we invaded. Saddam was a despot, that's true, but he was basically impotent in terms of being any threat.

Your careless votes got us huge tax cuts for the wealthy and an eye popping federal budget deficit. Remember when that scoundrel Bill Clinton was in office and we had a budget surplus? The deficit now tops $8 trillion and over $4 trillion of that was amassed under W's watch since 2000. That's debt owed by us and increasingly owed to the Chinese. Comforting, huh?

Your careless votes enabled Cheney and W to award over $8 billion in contracts in Iraq to Halliburton in 2003 alone. This is the same Halliburton that signed contracts with Iraq worth $73 million through two subsidiaries while Cheney was at its helm. The same Halliburton that in 2005 quietly signed a major new business deal to help develop Tehran's natural gas fields. That's the same Tehran as in Iran as in "axis of evil" Iran as in we gonna build a nuke Iran. That Cheney is such a patriot...always thinking about the country's well being.

Your careless votes brought a man into office who promised to return the Office of the President to a respectable stature. He then authorized the leaking of a CIA agent's name for his own political purposes. Talk about integrity. Imagine how upset folks would be if he had gotten oral sex in the Oval Office.

Do you get my point here 16%? It really does matter how you vote. It really is important that you do a little homework on the candidates and that you aren't swayed by red, white and blue campaign ads.

It seems that you all may finally be coming to understand just how we've all been given the finger by this President. W's numbers have been dropping ever since Katrina and the "doin' a heck of a job Brownie" comment. Now that gas is at $3 a gallon, even the pointy headed, Red State uber patriots are beginning to wonder about the shaft they're getting. Yes sir, you can lie to the citizens of this great country, you can send their children off to die in an illegal war, you can invite graft and corruption into the White House, but you better not let the cost of gas get too high! That really pisses voters off and they will turn on ya'.

Maybe you've seen the bumper sticker that says, "If you aren't completely appalled, you haven't been paying attention." Me thinks you guys haven't been paying attention for most of the last 6 years. But I can assure you that those of us in the 49% have been completely appalled.

So maybe this coming November and again in 2008 you guys in the 16% could pay really close attention and get familiar with the candidates and become aware of their backgrounds and the power brokers who are giving them money. Maybe then we can begin to put a halt to the severe damage being done to our country.

It's kind of important, don't ya think?

Sincerely,

Gudpackage

PS In 2008, if a candidate for President can't correctly pronounce the word "nuclear", maybe he/she shouldn't get your vote. Capiche?

I can fix me but only you can fix you.

I've been reminded in recent days that just because I've chosen to work on myself (rehab, therapy, exploring spirituality, owning up to my behavior, etc, etc), that doesn't mean that those around me are under any obligation to do the same.

A little over a week ago I sent a few different relatives and friends thank you notes for their assistance in getting me around and helping me shop while I was without transportation. It seemed like the appropriate, polite thing to do and is what my momma always taught me was the sign of good manners. There was, however, one relative that looked right past the gesture and focused on, in a rather pointed way, the abhorrent error I made in misspelling their spouse's name (once again!).

Now, being totally honest here, I'm guilty. Guilty, guilty, guilty. I did misspell the spouse's name on the envelope and card and it wasn't the first time. Indeed the relative had pointed this out to me a few weeks ago. The spouse has never made mention of this so I don't know if it bothers the spouse, the relative, or both of them. In discussing it with other family members, it seems that I am not the only one to make this gaffe. The name is a very common one but is one letter different from the usual spelling. Kind of like if your name was "Phil" and you spelled it "Phill". OK, are you with me?

So, the day my thank you card is received, I get an email from the relative that starts off misspelling my name in capital letters. Twice. The email then goes on to say:

"If you are being funny, the joke is not humorous.

If you are being negligent, please pay attention.

If you are being intentionally disrespectful,
please continue on right as you are doing."

Ummm, hello, I wasn't being anything other than my sometimes absent minded yet well intentioned self.

Now, this relative is prone to taking something like this and making a Federal Case of Intentional Disrespect out of it. I responded with an email that I just made a simple human goof, I meant no disrespect and that a Federal Case wasnt warranted. I further stated that the tone was mean, unnecessary and unappreciated. I also typed a letter of sincere apology to the spouse and mailed it. Yes, a Letter of Apology for misspelling the name on the Thank You note I had mailed a week earlier. Does anyone else have to do things like this with their family?

The response from the relative came back along with a PS:

" I have re-sent this, as it was undeliverable as you had addressed it when I tried to reply. I guess you changed your name to ***** in the address line to do this (****-*-******@austin.rr.com>). Seems to unnecessarily perpetuate this exchange concerning names. Just another joke on your part?"

Oh lawd. Actually I had misstyped it (yes, I misspelled my own name...do you see how prone to this I am? I certainly meant no disrespect to myself, intentional or otherwise) when I reloaded Windows on my PC a couple of weeks back. I thought it was a Road Runner tech who made the mistake, but no, it was me. I am the guilty party. I responded that it seemed to be an error on someone's part and that it seemed rather human.

The final exchange has the relative telling me to get over my "victim mentality." Well, I really don't feel like a "victim" here; the term "victim" evokes the feelings I had when my car window got smashed or when Bush was awarded the 2000 election by the Supremes. That's victimization! No, I am just annoyed that this relative, who really does have some wonderful qualities, can't see their own role in a situation. I am perplexed that they must always, always be right and the other person in the situation is making too much out of things and has a "victim mentality" or some other mental aberration that might require professional help. I am taken aback that they think they can send an arrogant, caustic communication and then act indignant that it provokes a less than friendly response.

But I'm clear that I will continue to work to improve my flawed self and continue to make small but steady advances. I'm also clear that I'm only responsible for improving me.

Everybody else is on their own.