On the way back from the grocery store this morning at about nine thirty:
I saw a big motorcoach…looked like a tour bus to me.
Why in the world is a tour bus here? I thought….to see the well known Subway shop? The long lost CVS pharmacy….?
Oh, wait…It’s not a tour bus…is it. No. (That’ll teach me to go out without my glasses.)
Of course it was the campaign bus of the presidential candidate I did not vote for.
Just for a brief moment, I considered the trajectory of my power wheelchair a collision course, and the back bumper of the bus. I wouldn’t have done it. Really, really wouldn’t have done it.
So I just kept rolling by on the sidewalk.
I couldn’t resist a glance inside the phone banking center the bus was obviously visiting though. A lot of Very Important Special People were inside. Couldn’t really see them but by their clothes and the working TV cameras someone was being interviewed or waiting to be so…there were rally signs outside that didnt relate to the Presidential campaign…there was obviously going to be a rally someplace where supporters were going to chant about one candidate being “Their guy for the Senate” and the other being a job killing loser, etc.
The cameras were facing me as I rolled by. I just hope they weren’t on. I don’t want the rumpled early morning shot of me looking both stupid and astonished to be my fifteen minutes of fame.
Apparently per Axelrod’s interview w Leno, our President likes pie.
Step into the Fox newsrooms with me and see what they’re responses will be:
Glenn Beck: “I’m not SAYING it’s just another aspect of his socialist white people hating agenda…but you know…Pies come from tarts, and tarts taste a little bit like Baklava, a Middle Eastern Dessert! And then there are PITAS!!! Another Mediteranian delicacy! Barack Hussein Obama doesn’t really like American Pies! He’s just masking a taste for Middle. Eastern. FOOD!”
“Billo: “I heard the President likes Middle Eastern Food… I like pita’s and felafel as much as the next guy, but this seems dangerous to me.”
Hannity (getting Beck’s message all garbled): “He’ll be sending Palestinian terrorists a buncha pie soon! Those Middle Easterners, they like our pie!”
H/t to Kos for link.
also supposed to be here now, and supposed to be here for some unknown amount of future time.
I’m tired. I’m tired of a particular bit of drama that centers around my arrival on the planet as an accidental event.
Yes, I know. I wasn’t planned for by either parent. Yes, I know, I wasn’t sought after. Yes, I know that my late father castigated my mother about being unable to deliver an able bodied boychild…instead delivering a girlchild with impairments.
My mother feeling ‘stuck’ in a lousy marriage to a lousy guy does stem from my arrival on the planet. If she needs help to wrestle through the damage he did I cannot be her therapist.
But I’m sick to death of taking any blame for that.
I’m pretty clear that as regards the wider world and the bigger picture, I’m supposed to have been here.
Oh, there’s a list
Reasons I’m supposed to have been here
Chipmunks up north wouldn’t have gotten the peanuts I fed ’em on vacation.
My first grade version of the ‘Sound of Music’ would have had some other Maria.
My whole street wouldn’t have heard my first attempt at public speaking (at age 5)
My father would have acted like a jerk for much longer….since after about age 10, I refused to leave him alone about his drinkin’
Belinda at gimp camp would have continued to beg other people to do things she could do herself.
Me, dancing…a necessary exercise in pushing the envelope. Also, one of my boyfriends wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun.
The mutual scorn of me and the general public at my high school (my friends, of course were exempt)
And those friendships that I made and have kept…still vital, pleasant things.
Most dissed me because I was disabled, and I held them in great contempt because they were stupid.
College, much less disrespect, but much more alchohol…And why in the hell did some of my dorm mates come to me for romantic advice? (Me, who believed at the time I was to remain the Perpetual Virgin?) The real friendships I made, though, they remain interesting and full of good things.
Customers at my various jobs would still be wandering around wondering what their bills or Explanations of Benefits meant.
I believe very strongly my late husband would have had a shorter, sadder, more difficult time of it without me.
My father, same notation.
I would not have learned so much or had as many good times without the friends I made in my thirties, even if they aren’t friends anymore. Unless my memory decieves, I helped them out some too.
One ex boyfriend really did need to be verbally smacked on the Internet. (It should have happened as early as 1992, but I did not know him then.)
Actually putting on the superhero costume and helping another friend leave a disturbing past behind.
My forties, my first decade as a political animal. Actually put my shoulder into it and pushed my Congresscritters and others via email.
Short version: It no longer matters that my arrival was accidental.
I’m supposed to be here.
So, I go to Mass today. I lucked out. My favorite Monsignor was doing the homily…the bus got me there on time….but on the way back the bus stopped at the wrong entrance and had to be flagged down by the roommate and then I couldn’t seem to back on to the lift appropriately…
And I actually said “Don’t make me swear I’ve just been to Mass.” (anyone who knows me well knows that trying to keep myself to g rated language is a huge deal…not my usual method.)
And then of course, I said “Dammit” twice before the stupid scooter was correctly set up to back into the van. I’m sure people heard it and were not amused.
So, next time I darken those doors it’ll probably be for confession (or the Sacrament of Reconcilliation as it’s known today.)
Not that I don’t realize it’s a small fry of a sin. But it’ll mollify any complaints that might come the parish office’s way
Evidently Wilson has started a cottage industry of “You Lie,” T-Shirts.
While I recognize that the previous administration was shouted down a lot *outside* a joint session of congress, never inside…so I say we get some tees of our own.
“When Bush Touted, No One Shouted.
“When Cheney Schemed, No One Screamed.”
That sort of thing.