A Word from Atop the Soapbox

People are people
So why should it be
You and I should get
Along so awfully

This just in: I’m a naïve, but well-meaning idealist. Through and through.

Why else would I be reeling from a very unexpected encounter with blatant and vitriolic racism. The likes of which I’ve never seen before. And still cannot imagine, even after just a glimpse.

The set-up: I was innocently Googling something for another blog project. And in the results from that search, I saw a word that made me stop. A very racist word. The most racist word of all, as far as I’m concerned. A curious click led me to a site I never would have even imagined existed. The most appallingly racist, xenophobic and mob-mentality-fueled thing I’ve ever seen.

And it’s rocked me to my soul. My naïve, idealistic soul. And not in a good way.

(FYI: I’m not going to share the Google topic, nor the word, nor the URL of the site on which the word appeared. That would serve no constructive purpose. The end.)

So we're different colours
And we're different creeds
And different people have different needs
It's obvious you hate me
Though I've done nothing wrong
I've never ever met you so what could I have done

I’m not surprised that there are still racist currents running through our country – on both sides of the ethnic divide. My shock and horror comes from the frenzied, entrenched narrow-mindedness I saw. The sheer hate for one person from another because of the color of his or her skin and nothing more. The celebration of acts of discrimination and belittlement and hurt. The telling of tales.

Blatant racism. Celebrated and shared. It was akin to a virtual Klu Klux Klan meeting. And I suspect that it’s probably not the only site like it on these internets.

I just don't understand.

You've got to be taught to hate and fear
You've got to be taught from year to year
It's got to be drummed in your dear little ear
You've got to be carefully taught

I’m not here to argue on behalf of any extremist side in the racial divide, as xenophobia exists in both camps. I’ve seen it first hand from each group. Even had it directed at me personally. Will is one of a very small minority of Caucasian students at his school. And while I’ve never seen him treated with anything but friendliness and respect (and some flirting with some older elementary girls) I’ve come up against a bit of unfriendly behavior from the parents. Been called names and thrown a couple of profane hand gestures in the parking lot. Received a lot of looks. Ignored or cut off while standing or waiting in a queue.

I try to take it all in stride. Especially when I watch Will in action. My brave, open-minded boy. Who knows nothing of this racism. Who himself can be an example not only for people with disabilities, but for his race as well. We should all be able to act accordingly - and follow young William's innocent but correct example.

Now you're punching
And you're kicking
And you're shouting at me
I'm relying on your common decency
So far it hasn't surfaced
But I'm sure it exists
It just takes a while to travel
From your head to your fists

I have kin who resided and embodied the stereotypical perspective of upper middle class Southern whites of the ‘50s and ‘60s. While I cannot and do not condone their attitudes, I have to take them in context and perspective. However, I never saw or understood them to be anything but racist in word. Not deed. Never malicious. More ignorant and fearful, to be honest.

But that brand of racism is a far, far cry from what I glimpsed on that message board. This is contentious. Angry. With movement. Scared me a little. And I don’t scare easily.

This is also not a partisan issue. It’s got nothing to do with political parties or ideology. To use examples from either side of our current political spectrum to help make a point diminishes the matter at hand. This is a human condition issue. It’s about people. Plain and simple. Who were, in fact, all made equal by our Creator. It’s presumptuous of us to judge and view otherwise.

I can't understand
What makes a man
Hate another man
Help me understand

I was asked if I was going to “report” this message board for offensive content. Turns out the domain owners have barricaded themselves behind a privacy service. And while I firmly adhere to the Voltaire school of thought in most matters of controversy or disagreement – I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it – I must admit that this gave me a moment of pause. Getting entangled with people of this mindset is not the battle I want to fight, the hill I want to die on, so to speak. There are other ways to address the issue. You're reading one of them right now. So thank you.

You've got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made
And people whose skin is a different shade
You've got to be carefully taught

More than anything, now that I’ve had time to process and the initial shock and awe has subsided, I’m sad. And disappointed. For as far as our country has come since Dr. King and others worked so tirelessly and faithfully for civil rights, we apparently still have a long way to go. In those early days, the issues were more out in the open. Obvious. These days, such things are more cloaked and subversive. And as a result, more divisive and potentially dangerous.

I’m not going to say that there are no easy answers, because I don’t believe that’s the crux of the matter. It’s solutions that need to be cultivated. For as long as such people belong to such sites and perpetuate such lines of thinking from generation to generation and don’t want to alter their world view, solutions that stick are a long time coming.

And that makes me saddest of all.

I can't understand
What makes a man
Hate another man
Help me understand...

Sign it. Share it. Restore it.

This Gulf thing. Been a while since we (as in you and me) have chatted about it. It’s still there, even though it’s reported that progress is being made in a successful fashion to cap the bloody thing. And I’m still full of #$)*$&#$ about it.

Not much is happening here in my part the west coast of the F-L-A in terms of physically helping the cause. But I’m staying currently educated and trying to plug in to as many places and sources as possible. As the cliché goes, I’m ready, willing and able.

One of my besties, she of I Read Banned Books, enlightened me to this cause: Restore the Gulf. It’s easy to participate in this one: click on the link, have a little look around and just plunk down your John or Joan Hancock on a petition that emphatically says “I demand that a plan to restore American’s Gulf be fully funded and implemented for me and future generations.”

Notable Louisiana residents (including my political boyfriend James Carville, Emeril Lagasse, the Manning brothers and Sandra Bullock) have come together in a short video to plug the cause. Look! Here it is:



So while you’re taking a hit off your morning coffee or energy drink or unsweetened raspberry iced tea fron Dunkin’ Donuts (not that I’d know anything about that last option) take a gander at the video. And sign the petition. For so many reasons.

Not the least of which is that it’s the right thing to do.

If music be the food of love, play on. Tuesday Tunes

It's been way too long since I've played word association with my crazy-diverse iTunes collection. Here's a glimpse into that part of my that moves to a syncopated beat. (OK, sometimes it's syncopated. Sometimes it's not. Just go with me here...)

Storm: “Stormy Weather” ~ Lena Horne

Dark: “Whistling in the Dark” ~ They Might Be Giants

Late: “Stay Up Late” ~ Talking Heads

Heavy: “Heavy Metal Drummer” ~ Wilco

How can I not love a song with the lyric

“she fell in love with the drummer.”

Seriously.

Television: “Sleeping With the Television On” ~ Billy Joel

from arguably my favorite complete Billy Joel album,

the underrated Glass Houses

Leave: “Could I Leave You?” ~ Follies

From the musical "Follies" written by Stephen Sondheim.

If you're new here, I love him like it's my job.

Busy: “Cat’s In the Cradle” ~ Harry Chapin

Smooth: “Agua de Beber” ~ Astrud Gilberto

& Antonio Carlos Jobim

Gentle: “Gentle on My Mind” ~ Glen Campbell

And because I cannot help myself,

I give you the opposite of gentle:

Hurt: “Down in the Depths” ~ Lisa Stansfield

One of my most favorite songs in the entire world.

'Twas written by my musical idol, Cole Porter.

Meme Monday. Still rockin' in the free world.

Hello and welcome to yet another (over)sharing from the World According to Janey. There will be a quiz at the end of the lesson, so pay attention!

Who...
…is easy to love?
Young William, natch!

…do you just wanna smack?
There’s a list. Hold on…

…do you talk to when you’re alone?
Myself. The telly. God. Not necessarily in that order.

What...
…dangerous things do you do while driving?
Drive too fast. Let my mind wander and think about stuff other than what’s on the road. Yeah. I know.

…would you never, ever, ever give up?
Iced tea and cheese. Never. Ever. Ever.

…is Satan’s last name?
It changes on a daily basis. Today it’s Mel Gibson. Bastid, that one is.

…is the last thing that moved you?
Thinking about the daughter of one of my BFFs and how she treats Will like a regular kid. Their relationship is amazing and brings me to tears on a regular basis.

…is the freakiest thing in your house?
My KGB phone. What?

When...
…is it time to turn over a new leaf?
When the old one is too shriveled to be useful and is too dried to serve as a good place to hide behind.

…will you be all that you can be?
A question I ask myself every single day…

…is enough enough?
When I figure it out, I’ll let y’all know. Remember what Mother Teresa said: “I know God never gives you more than you can handle. I just wish He didn’t trust me so much.”

…do you go to the dark side?
When I need to eat. And when I spend too much time by myself. Which is more than you'd think. I don’t do well when left alone too long. So text/e-mail and check on me – ‘kay?

Where...
…are your pants?
Hugging my tuchus at the moment.

…is your last will and testament?
Sitting on the mister’s desk, waiting for us to find a notary and a witness. Any volunteers?

…is your junk food stash?
Since I’m really trying to eat clean, I don’t have one at the moment. Although it’s usually in the freezer, since I’m a sucker for ice cream.

…are you the happiest?
When I’m around water – beach, lake, pool. It soothes me somehow. Perhaps I am part mermaid.

Why...
…are there no seat belts on school buses?
Whoa. I never thought of this. Budget, probably. Or piss-poor planning.

…are musicians sexy and plumbers aren’t?
Seriously? You’re asking this question of the woman who’s been in love with Stewart Copeland for 30 years? The chick who has tales yet untold about myriad relationships with tune-making dudes? The girl for whom music is a serious aphrodisiac?

Although a plumber who solves the problem of malfunctioning indoor plumbing could look awfully good to this diva in the right light…

…did the chicken cross the road?
Because he could, dammit!

…do we revere athletes more than teachers?
Do not get me started on this one…

Would you...
…swim the English channel for a doughnut and coffee? If not, what?
Quite possibly. If the doughnut was a Krispy Kreme Hot Now and the coffee Cuban.

…forgive someone who deliberately hurt you?
Yes. I have. And under the right circumstances, I will continue to do so.

…rather believe a lie if it hurt you less than the truth?
No. The truth will, as they say, set you free. And it eliminates the persistent, paralyzing what ifs.

…still need me, would you still feed me, when I’m 64?
Yeah. Yes I will.

Once more, with waaaay too much feeling

It's a tough place to be right now. My world.

Something is up with Will and we can't seem to get a handle on it. Increased seizure activity. Like really increased. At least the damn things aren't of the tonic clonic/grand mal variety. Short, zone-out, petite mals are the episode du jour. And there are a hell of a lot of them. A lingering ear infection is hanging around as well.

My poor, sweet, brave boy.

Couple that with some insensitive comments by unthinking people and you have a tense, very emotional situation.

As Will goes, so do I. I'm not in a particularly good place at the moment. Such is the life of a mama with a kiddo who has serious, chronic health issues. I can't even seem to take proper care of myself -- never a good thing. But my priorities, my focus, my heart -- all with my child. Can't help it. How I'm wired.

I realize I sound like a one-note songstress these days -- but this is consuming my world. These infrequent blog posts are a catharsis of sorts for me. Need to get this angst out somehow. Not going to apologize for it either. Nor am I going to apologize for my parenting skills -- yeah, even those have come under some criticism recently. From people who technically should know better.

Bite me. When you have a child like Will, then you can perhaps offer advice. Until then, shut it.

I'm doing the best that I can.

As I watch him sleep after yet another "carpe diem" (the second in less than 18 hours) I try desperately not to cry. Mothers are supposed to protect their children from the bad things. The hurts. The monsters under the bed. But I can't protect Will from this affliction he's had since birth. It's tearing me up inside. Damn control issues.

A very dear friend refers me often to Psalm 46... "Be still and know that I am God." I know in my heart and spirit this is the best advice, but I struggle with it, as it's hard for me to slow down and hush up long enough. He is watching over Will. I must rest in that. Easy to say, not always as easy to do. But I'm trying.

Meanwhile, we forge along. More questions than answers. Such is the fabric of our life.

Happy Birthday, Home

Well, she was an American girl
Raised on promises...

In honor of the celebration of my country's birthday, I went hunting for video of perhaps the most amazing and patriotic experience I've ever been a part of. And wouldn't you know that YouTube didn't let me down:



I love this for a lot of reasons.

First and foremost, it's Miss Whitney, at her very best, before BobbyBrown! and crack and whatever else made her the caricature that we see today. Her voice, majestic and radient, coupled with the subtle elegance of the backing Florida Orchestra made this rendition of the National Anthem truly iconic. It's my favorite version ever.

Better yet is the fact that I was there in person to hear her sing. Super Bowl XXV. Tampa Stadium. 1991. The Buffalo Bills versus the New York Giants. Phil Simms in his heyday. Hell of a game, with a heartbreaking finish for the resiliant Bills fans. I'd never seen grown men cry at a sporting event before -- but burly gents and usually stoic dudes were wiping away tears with their sweatshirt sleeves and gruffly consoling each other. Whoever says sports are "just games" is deluded. Or non-fan haters.

Anyhoo.

They've all gone to look for America
All gone to look for America...

The game was played literally days after the first Gulf War started. MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa was Central Command. And the largest sporting event in the world was held just about five miles away. The images of the movie Black Sunday were evoked by the media frequently in the week preceeding the game. My dad was on the local Super Bowl planning committe, and as a resulting perk, got to purchase tickets. I had nosebleed seats (and a date that crapped out on me at the last minute. Douchebag. Yet another story for another day.)

Security was intense. The air was electric with varying currents of anxiety and anticipation. I was frisked, poked, prodded and explored. But.. when the orchestra played those oh-so-familiar notes and Whitney opened her mouth to sing, you could feel the tension subside and the entire stadium, down to a person, swell with pride and love of country.

This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the Gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me

This Gulf War was the first taste of combat my generation could fully grasp, as we were too young to completely understand the nuances of Vietnam (although I remember vividly seeing Dan Rather reporting on the war on the CBS evening news while we ate dinner.) And it was vivid -- CNN brought every single action and movement to us, live, 24/7, and in color (remember the neon green of the night over Baghdad behind Arthur "Scud Stud" Kent?)

Well she was an American girl
Raised on promises...

We weren't jaded then to all things war-related, as we are now. That first blush of war unearthed patriotism and uncertainty and curiosity, colored by naivete and hopeful expectations for resolution and the obligation of our country as the protector of the world. Little did we know what would lie ahead, nearly 20 years later, as we struggle to make sense of a war that shouldn't have happened and seemingly has no end for the brave men and women who are simply doing their jobs as military employees. [/end liberal Janey PSA]

But that January night, as Whitney let forth with the glory of her voice, dropping over us the words of love for country, we simply embraced the moment for what it was -- one cloaked in pride for who we were and what we stood for as Americans.

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave...

It's a good reminder for me on a day when my country is still at war. When my Gulf stream waters have been violated and invaded and sullied. When the echos of a Civil War of words and perspective and ideologies about the direction our nation should take pits citizen against citizen, brother against brother, sister against sister. When economic hardships and employment woes are the norm rather than the exception.

Despite it all, this is still the place to be. Resillient and proud, we shall over come. It's just what we do here in America.

Happy Birthday, Home.

America! America!

God mend thine ev'ry flaw,

Confirm thy soul in self-control,

Thy liberty in law.