Don't Get Me Started with Linda Sharp

A Journey, Not A Crisis of Faith

Since writing The Power of Prair yesterday, and including mention of Carson's current questioning of all things "God," I have received many emails.  Some understanding and supportive, some not so much, and some hypercritical of Rudy and I.  Stating that we are somehow derelict in our duties as parents for letting her even question things.

To those who have been supportive, thank you.

To those who just don't get it, I appreciate your concern for a child you have never met, and will attempt to explain a few things.

Carson, as a very small child, was one of the most spiritual beings I had ever encountered.  She would draw pictures and speak of Heaven as if from memory.  She seemed to come into this world connected to something.  It was not something taught to her, as I have said, we have never taught our children religious dogma.  It was just something that was there.

As she grew a little older, she began referring to her "Heart Radio," that was the way she communicated with God at night.

She grew older, and while she spoke less and less about these things, I always somehow felt safer in her presence.  Not just because she was one of the best people I knew, but because she seemed connected.  Call it crazy, whatever.

In her high school years, she began to question the uber religious views many in her school seemed to insist on pushing onto others.  And given the state in which we live, where religion permeates everything, she grew increasingly uncomfortable with all of it.  She, like her parents and siblings, have no patience for hypocrisy.  And her life was filled with teens who loved to judge, condemn, and basically mean girl/boy over religion.

Hypocrisy, because Carson is the embodiment of how NOT going to church does not make you a bad person, but so many around her are the embodiment of how going to church does not make you a good person.

Then she began to lose people.  Literally.

A friend she had had since 6th grade left the classroom she shared with Carson and did not show up in the next class she would normally share with Carson 10 minutes later.  She had gone to the bathroom and put a bullet in her brain. 

That sent Carson reeling.  I have never felt so completely heartbroken, torn in half as the night she curled up in my lap and sobbed like a tiny child.  Something in her had broken.  Through many therapy sessions she was able to articulate what was going on inside her, and to move forward.

And then another young person whom she idolized, left us while at college.  No rhyme, no reason, no smoke signals, no warning.  Just gone. 

Not long after, another friend was hit by a semitruck while walking along the road and died.

It was during this series of tragedies that she began to talk more about not believing anything.  AND THAT WAS FINE.

To those who think Rudy and I should have jumped in and insisted she not talk that way, or scare her into some imaginary consequences for doubting - YOU.  ARE.  WRONG.

Faith is a singular thing.  Sure, you may choose to roll around in it with hundreds of other people every Sunday, but in the end, it is a personal thing.  It's depth, breadth, meaning, focus, and placement, unique to each individual.

And Carson's crisis of faith (as many who emailed me wish to call it), is hers.  Not yours, not mine, not his, not hers. 

I am not bothered by it.  I don't lose sleep over it.  And I don't worry about "what will happen to her soul." <---I am quoting from an email.

Each person's journey in this life is theirs.  There is not some one-size-fits-all Snuggie of Faith.  And should she come back to believing in something, I suspect her faith will be stronger for the journey she is now on.

And if she moves forward through the rest of her life not believing?  Well, thank you for your concerns, but they are YOURS, not ours. 

Because if there is a God;  if there is an accounting that takes place for each of us when we depart; I have zero concerns for Carson. 

Because she remains today, one of the best PEOPLE I have ever known in my life.  And there is NO god who could be disappointed with how she moves through this life loving and doing for others daily, what so many only give lipservice to on Sundays.

The Power of Prair

You may be wondering why I spelled it that way.  Your kneejerk reaction may have been to think, "Oh, here she goes again, knocking religion."

Not so.

It is spelled that way because something I firmly believe, and have written many times, has played out before me for years, and brought into very sharp focus in the past several weeks.

No, I do not "do" religion.  That is correct.  I was raised Catholic, and ran from it.  No different from millions of others who are raised in any religion only to leave it behind once out from under their parents' roof.

Religion is not something I need in my life.  I don't go to church and I am perfectly content with that decision.  I don't open my door to religious strangers bent on telling me how wrong I am and how right they are.  I don't feel "unbalanced", "unfulfilled", "unhappy",or somehow "missing something from my life" - all words thrown at those of us who don't belong to a church by those who do.

I believe religion is at its worst when it convinces those within its walls that their spiritual salvation is somehow tied to what other people do.  When it urges them to go forth and force their beliefs on others, passing judgement along the way on those who do not ascribe to what they are selling.

I believe it is at its worst when teenagers are in my daughters' faces telling them they are going to hell, unable to understand how they can be so nice and giving to everyone, yet not beholding to "Anyone."

I believe it is at its worst when you have convinced yourself and your children that if someone does not worship God (YOURS) that they obviously must worship the Devil.  News for you:  If one does not believe in a god, then they certainly don't believe in that fanciful control creation of the church.

That one gets thrown at Carson a lot.  Yes, that's right, Carson has been, for some time now, massively questioning what may or may not be out there.  In fact, all three of our daughters are like this.  And that is fine with Rudy and I.  They have been raised with the openness of freedom of thought, not confined to the isolation of singular thought.  And frankly, it is understandable, especially with Carson, who has had enough tragedy touch her young life, that she be questioning the notion of some loving, omnipotent being, and looking sideways at the notion that "God has a reason for everything."  Or her personal favorite, "God controls everything."

I have never bought that any more than she does now.  If God controlled it all, then a child rapist would fall down dead before he could pull it from his pants.  If God was given to intervention and constantly protective, the killer with a gun would be smote before he could pull the triigger in a classroom of children.

And don't bother with the whole, "We cannot understand His methods" line.  That is religious rationalization.  If it comforts you, fine.  Just don't expect everyone else to buy in.

I believe bad things happen.  They happen to good people.  They happen to bad people.  They happen to people in the way of the tsunami and in the building or airplane at the wrong time.  Horrendous things happen daily to people who clearly do not deserve it.  But that, to me, is serendipity and free will.  The serendipity of good timing and bad.  And the free will to do what we will, both good and bad in this life.

But back to the spelling of PRAIR.  I have written in the past that I believe religion is at its best when it provides a sense of comfort, of community, a touchstone.  When it manages to help carry a person through a crisis, a loss, a tragedy too immense to "face" alone.

Like the loss of a child to cancer.

A dear friend has spent years in a struggle between cancer trying to take her child and her refusing to allow it to wrest him from her grasp.  Years of chasing cures, treatments, remissions.  Years of hope, years of dashed hopes.

Cancer finally won, January 26, 2014, at 2:11 am.  While most of us were lost in peaceful slumber, my friend was lost in every parent's nightmare.  She lost her son, Wadi.  Carson's team mate lost her brother.  Our soccer team family lost one of the brightest smiles on our sideline.

But in those years, and in his final days, I saw the power of prair, I felt it, as it truly became the air they all breathed to get from one moment to the next.  Their faith in what they firmly believe is the soul's next step, gave them the strength as the end became a simple one of waiting, to let go. 

I am in awe of the strength, humility, courage, and acceptance I have seen.  My friend's every post called on God, on prayer, on the support of all of us who know them, love them.  Her words were that of acceptance, of asking God to release her son from his suffering, to let him be whole again with Him.  It was also the prair Wadi breathed through his battle, the very last prair he breathed here on Earth. 

I was raised to believe many things.  Many do not make sense to a rational mind.  But I admit that while I left the church, I have never truly abandoned faith.  They are very mutually exclusive.  Faith is not something that only exists in a pew.  It is not something accessible only with a secret code handed out during a mass.  Faith is deep inside, where it should be. 

Is it because I, too, was indoctrinated enough that it will remain in there forever?  Possibly.  Perhaps it is because I feel better thinking that some greater force is at play.  I admit that I like the idea of there being something beyond this earthly plane.  I find comfort in thinking that we really are only separated by a single breath from those we have lost. 

I don't live my life the way I do because I am afraid of a Hell, or because I believe in some Six Flags Fastpass system for a Heaven.  I live the way I do because I think it is the right way.  Like saying Yes when I would really rather say No.  Giving my time, effort, and money because it feels RIGHT, not because I think it gets me a celestial Gold Star in the ledger of the afterlife.  And if there is a LIGHT at the end of the tunnel of this life, I am confident I have been living my life in a way that LIGHT will approve.

I don't find some higher purpose in Wadi having suffered and having been stolen away so young.  He was beautiful and bright and loving and giving.  There is nothing to be gained by losing him.

But tonight, as Carson and I attend his memorial, I, too, will rely on the power of prair.  Because I have to believe there is more when I finally face my friend.  My parent's heart has to believe he is not simply gone.

As I sit here, tears in my eyes, I find myself struck by the thought that maybe that's what I have always meant when I write that I believe God takes the next breaths for you until you are ready to take them for yourself...

The power of PRAIR.

 

THIS ... THIS Is What I Believe

I don't watch awards shows.  Not interested.  At all.  Not my cup of tea.

I am content with a cursory glance at the winners and the fashions in a day after spread online.

But what took place at the GRAMMYS last night?  Truly MUST SEE TV.

I don't know that I will ever tire of hearing Same Love - the lyrics are powerful, the message one that exposes the hypocrisy, hate, fear, and prejudice of those who believe they should have any say in who can love, who can marry, who can pursue the happiness they take for granted as heteros.

Watch.  I don't care what your church has tried to preach to you; I care not one whit how you try to justify your prejudice by distorting your "good book"; and I don't give a tinker's damn if you get the oogeys.  Strip that away and just WATCH.  Watch the love, the commitment, the passion, the joy - of PEOPLE - just PEOPLE - coming together to proclaim to one and all that there is no one love for you, a different love for me, or her or him...

It's all THE SAME LOVE.

Fighting The Tide Of Equality With Belligerent Ignorance

State after state is wising up, waking up, and owning up to the fact that same sex marriage should be as much of a right, as normal of a right, as is hetero marriage.

And as these states adopt laws legalizing and recognizing the unions; as marriages move forward and same sex ceremonies take place, something amazing is happening.

NOTHING.

Not a goddamned thing.

No swarms of locusts.  No hellfire raining down from the heavens.  No cities or states turned into stone, no gays or lesbians turned to pillars of salt as they stand in their tuxedos or gowns.  No hetero marriages spontaneously combusting.  NOTHING.

Because there is NOTHING to happen.  These are PEOPLE.  Just like you, just like me.  Wanting to legally join together in the quest for happily ever after.  They wish to honor one another in a ceremony they spend too much money on, and enjoy a reception in which their guests will inevitably bitch about the dry chicken or lack of an open bar.  They want to open gifts they registered for at Macy's, Target, Crate and Barrel.  They want to pick rice from their hair on the way to the airport for their sundrenched honeymoon.

Hell, they want a shot at making it last, or contributing to the over 50% divorce rate in this country. 

Normal stuff that we heteros take for granted.

Yet in the face of fear based religious Bible beating and years of pulpit led brainwashing, people are still wetting themselves over the spector of "gay marriage."  (Insert Jaws music)  As if allowing two men or two women to marry, file taxes jointly, and enjoy legal protections about which we heteros never think twice, will somehow maim the "sanctity of marriage."

It won't.  Trust me, that sanctity takes an ass raping daily by we hypocritical straight folk.

But fear must be fed its required diet of stupidity, lest it wither on the vine, and so the trough is being filled in Oklahoma by this man:

This baby faced, baby poop brained individual is Mike Turner.  I'll pause while we play a game of "Guess His Side Of The Aisle."

***insert Jeopardy music***

Ding! Ding! Ding!  Yes, that's right, Republican!

So incensed is he by the federal court ruling that Oklahoma's same sex marriage ban is unconstitutional, he has put forward legislation that would BAN ALL MARRIAGE IN OKLAHOMA.

Yes, I do believe that is the "Cut off my nose to spite my face" defense.

Sniiiiiifffff.  Smell that?  It's the same sickly sweet stench of bullshit that permeated the air in the south after Brown vs Board of Education required all schools be desegregated.  A backassward lawmaker at that time, Virginia Sen. Harry F. Byrd, led the charge in the legislature to close all schools that would be affected.  Stupid and illegal, but it did not stop one county from literally shuttering their entire school system for five years so as to not comply, lest their lilly white children be tainted by those with darker skin.

While it should not be, after all, this batshit crazy posturing and belligerent ignorance are the hallmarks of the GOP these days, I am, all the same, still astonished that Turner has support.

Granted, those people supporting him are the same type folk who believe tornados, autism, and dementia are God's wrath for us moving forward with gay marriage.  People who love the sinner, but hate the sin.

As I have said before, BULL and SHIT.  At least have the balls to admit you hate the "sinners."

This is Susanne Atanus, a Republican from Chicago looking to unseat Rep. Jan Schakowsky (D).

She believes God controls the weather, thus accounting for tornados, is convinced He delivers autism, and knows He is responsible for my dead grandfather's Alzheimers.  “God is angry. We are provoking him with abortions and same-sex marriage and civil unions,” she said. “Same-sex activity is going to increase AIDS. If it’s in our military it will weaken our military. We need to respect God.”

Susanne, stuff it back in your church where it belongs. 

AIDS is as much a hetero illness as it is a gay illness.  Babies, little children, men, women, young people, old people, black, white, yellow, purple, and green - we can all find ourselves with AIDS. 

Abortion?  None of your business.  Not your body, stay out of it.

As for weakening our military?  Gay people have served for as long as we have had a military.  Homosexuality is as old as time itself.

As for respecting God?  Which one?  Yours?  His?  Hers?  Theirs?

Never mind, just funnin' with you.  I know you mean the "one and true God" aka the one you believe in.

As far as I'm concerned, Susanne, you and Mike, and the rest of your ilk can STFU.  You are going to lose.  Hell, you ARE losers already because you spout and believe this discriminatory sewage  You fear "the other."  You tremble in the face of that which you do not understand.  You pee yourselves when your preacher threatens you with hell or dangles the moldy carrot of salvation in front of you while tying YOUR soul to what total strangers do in their own homes.

I choose to live in the here and now.  I choose to support the rights of LGBT individuals because LGBT individuals are just like me.  If I punch one they will say ouch and probably punch me back.  If they fall down and skin their knee they bleed just like me.  And no, their blood is not purple or tainted.  When someone they love dies, they cry.  I do that, too.  When they are hungry - get this - THEY EAT.  Tired?  They sleep.  In love?  They buy sappy Hallmark cards and hold hands.

I do all of that.  Really, they are NOT "the other."    They are "the normal."  So, there is no reason for me to fear that which is JUST LIKE ME.  (Psssst... as for that sex part - you know, the part you choose to focus on like some perverted laser - I do ALL that, too, just with my husband.  Hear me?  ALL. THAT.)

But you go on doing what it is you do so well - embarrassing yourselves.  The rest of us will go on driving into the future - an equal future - you can choke on our exhaust fumes and die in the ditch on the wrong side of history.

The Death of An Intensely Private Decision

Finally.

Finally a small flicker of enlightenment in Texas.

After eight weeks of standing by helplessly, Erick Munoz has been given the right to remove his brain dead wife from life support.

In what was an awful tragedy, he found his young wife, 33, unconscious - doctors believe it was a pulminary embolism - 8 weeks ago.  Compounding the unfairness life had dealt her, she was 14 weeks pregnant at that time.  She was rushed to the hospital where she was placed on life support.  But the damage had been done.  She was brain dead.  There was no knowing exactly how long she had been without oxygen, but it was clear that the damage to her fetus would prove just as damning.

Her husband and family prepared to say their goodbyes, and take her off life support.  This was a subject she and Erick had both discussed at length before, and her wishes were clear - she did not want to be kept "alive" just for the sake of saying she was "alive."

Unfortunately, this intensely private decision, this torturous piece of Hell come to Earth, was compounded because she hit the floor in Texas.  And in Texas, where we grow our cattle, asshats, and over reaching laws big, the hospital stepped in and informed them they would not take her off life support.  She was pregnant, regardless of the far reaching implications of oxygen deprivation to her fetus, and as such, Texas law stipulates that a woman shall be turned into an incubator until the baby is born or dies.

The overreach here is stunning, but it is not only Texas with laws like this on the books.  There are more than 2 dozen other states with these type of grossly intrusive edicts in place.

But it is no surprise that it exists in Texas.  Texas legislators are notorious for being backwards, ignorant, and woefully against women.  Why medicine is practiced by lawmakers in Austin is beyond me.  That is not their job.  They prove repeatedly that they don't even have a cursory understanding of how a woman's body works, let alone the medical knowlege to legislate it.  Nor is it their job to tell a grieving husband that it is THEY, not him, who gets to decide his wife's fate.

I live in Austin, and while it is a fairly blue oasis (save the state house being located here), it is surrounded by a blood red sea of conservatives who love their guns, their God, their GOP.

But today, in a stunning moment of judicial clarity, a Texas judge ordered that Erick be allowed to terminate Marlise's life support.  There is now medical proof that the fetus, now 22 weeks, is "distinctly abnormal."

It is shameful that this man, that this family, has been put through this emotional hell, this horrendous piling on.  It is truly awful that Marlise, brain dead for the past 8 weeks, was turned into some flesh and blood incubator by the state.  And it is absolutely wrong that the decision was completely taken away from the husband.

As with Terri Schiavo, this is not a decision in which strangers and politicians have any business being involved.  It is deeply personal, unimaginably painful, and should be completely private.

Had this happened to Marlise when she was far enough along to be carrying a viable baby, I could almost understand - almost - keeping her alive long enough to C-section the baby.  That sad scenario plays out fairly, and sadly, regularly when tragedy strikes a pregnant woman.  But this?  No.  Just no.

My heart goes out to Erick Munoz, to he and Marlise's 15 month old son, Mateo, and her parents, Lynne and Ernest. 

But the truth is, I never should have known their names to begin with.

May you finally rest in peace.  And may your story be the impetus for much needed change.

Libidon't

I have a vagina.

I have a uterus.

I have fallopian tubes and ovaries.

Growing up I was told they were my "private parts."

Private parts.  That would imply they belong to me.  They are under my control, mine to do with what I wish, to share or not share as I deem fit or necessary.

Over the course of my life that has meant cramming myself full of absorbent material every month.  It has meant practically hearing my ovaries and uterus pound out Beethoven's fifth via cramps.  It has meant trips to the doctor to insure the inner workings are working and healthy.

At times it has meant sharing intimately.  I have used my privates for recreation and procreation, sometimes the two dovetailing.  It has also meant long periods spent using various forms of birth control so as to keep the two separate.

It also means I have done what every human has done and, um, taken matters into my own hands on occasion.  (Warning:  if that admission makes you uncomfy, stop reading now.  I am pissed and not holding back.)

I have had doctors and nurses turn me into a human version of Lambchop while in labor, and I have pushed life into this world three times.  I have been betrayed by my privates when they could not sustain a life and ended it without consulting me.

I have spent countless hours grooming, waxing, shaving - sometimes foregoing all topiary embellishment for a clean canvas.

47 years.  47 years of me and my twat.  I believe I have been a good steward of my female parts - both inside and out.

Yet somehow, despite those 47 years and my best efforts, the GOP continues to believe it knows better than I how it functions, and what I should and should not be allowed to do with my kootch. 

Todd Akin enlightened us all to how we women can "shut that whole thing down" in the face of a legitimate rape.  (Legitimate meaning we come away with horrific physical evidence of attack) That somehow a shock to the system disrupts the wiring, so to speak, and we cannot get pregnant.  Idiot.  Tell that to the estimated 32,000- 50,000 who are raped and end up pregnant each year.

Rick Santorum has lectured us that sex should be within marriage and for procreation only - none of that pleasure based kind.  Sorry, Ricky, but at my age, sex is all about recreation, not procreation.  It is solely for pleasure, for fun.  I am woman, hear me roar (or scream or moan, depending on the festivities).

Thanks to Rush Limbaugh I now know that I have been a slut in my past years because I regularly used birth control.  Well, Rush, better a slut, I guess, than a young woman not ready for a baby, or another baby.  Question for clarification:  Did I cease being a slut when I used birth control while married?  I know Rudy wasn't a slut for using condoms, after all, he is a man.  Anyway, I get confused because of Rick's no-fun clause.

As for my private parts and abortion?  While I've never had one, it is apparent that if I did I would be condemned to hell, a godless heathen, and a child killer.  But then, the fact that I am pro-choice basically means the same thing in GOPese. 

Access to birth control is a hot button issue these days because women dare to ask that insurance companies include it in their coverage.  The GOP wants no part of THAT.

So confusing.  I'm a slut if I use birth control to insure I don't get pregnant, but they don't want me to have birth control so if I do get pregnant I have to have the baby I wanted to prevent in the first place.

The latest GOP wetbrain to weigh in on my private parts is Mike Huckabee.  In his riverting address at the Republican National Committee's winter conclave, he laughed off the notion that Republicans have waged some "war on women."  Instead he tried to turn it into a Democrat bashing session, noting, "That's not a war on them. It's a war for them. And if the Democrats want to insult the women of America by making them believe that they are helpless without Uncle Sugar coming in and providing for them a prescription each month for birth control, because they cannot control their libido or their reproductive system without the help of the government, then so be it."

Oh, Mike, Mike, Mike.  You guys just don't get it, do you?  (My guess is none of you get  IT all that often...)

You have zero business legislating my body.  None.  Zero. Nada.  Hell, you cannot even speak intelligently and in any informed fashion about how my body works. 

And don't even get me started on the blatant hypocrisy at play with you.  In 2005, when you were Governor of Arkansas, you signed a law mandating insurance plans provide contraception coverage, including church-affiliated organizations such as hospitals and universities.

Fast forward 9 years and I am a slut who cannot control herself and my insurance company should not have to pay for my play.

But let's examine your assertions, shall we, Mike?

"...helpless without Uncle Sugar..."

Wow.  I am not helpless.  And the accusation that all women want a Sugar Daddy of any kind, much less a government one?  Our push is to have the government help protect our access to medication.  And yes, Mike, that is what birth control happens to be: MEDICATION.  A drug used for its primary purpose, yes, but also a very helpful drug for women who battle a myriad of reproductive health issues.  It stymies me that people like him and the insurance companies who finance and lobby hide behind the GOP can't do the math.  Birth control coverage is a helluva lot cheaper than nine months of prenatal care coverage, labor and delivery coverage, and 26 years of healthcare coverage for any baby born.

Here's my favorite line from Mike: "...because they cannot control their libido or their reproductive system without the help of the government..."

I cannot control my libido?  Fuck you.  Actually, Mike, I wouldn't even fuck you with Anne Coulter's vagina.  My libido is none of your concern.  My desire to make love, romp, or flat out FUCK is not your business.  It is MINE.  My decision on when, how, frequency, duration.  If I want to attend an orgy or do a nice slow jam one-on-one, that is MY business.  If I want to fuck while on the rag?  MY business.  In the shower?  On a train?  With my husband in the rain?  MY business.

The desire to use birth control has zero to do with libido control, Mike.  It has to do with being practical, RESPONSIBLE.  It means if I want to fuck, I am taking precautions to NOT get pregnant.

But let's use your "logic."  <---I HAVE to use quotes on that because, well, it is so far from logic that the Mars Rover has a better chance of finding it than we do.

If female reproductive medication should not be covered because it only serves to enable we out of control she devils, then the same should apply to Viagra, Cialis, and the entire raft of drugs currently covered for men whose wood is more like balsa than oak.

Your inability to get a stiffy?  Well, were I some religious wackjob that interprets ALL things as sent by the big G-O-D, I could easily take that to mean that GOD doesn't want you batting in the bigs anymore.  That your time swinging for the fences is past.  That your desire for a libido is a heaven mandated LIBIDON'T.

You don't want any of your insurance money going to cover my birth control?  Well, I don't want any of mine going to a bunch of older men who think they NEED a boner.  If I don't get a say about your broken dick, YOU don't get a say about my cramping uterus.

I'm curious.  The male's assertion that he NEEDS Viagra to be able to keep having sex - how is that lack of libido control any different, Mike?

Rhetorical question, don't answer.  I know, I know - it just IS.  You being a man and all.  I should just submit and go wash your skidmarked Fruit of the Looms. 

As offensive as is every utterance of the GOP these days, I actually encourage them to keep it up.  Because just when I think they cannot dig their hole any deeper, they find a bigger backhoe and keep going.

Now, you'll have to excuse me.  All this typing about sex has got me fired up.  My husband may not be home, but my vibrator is. 

Yes, Mike, a vibrator because I am a big, horny, out of control slut who doesn't need a man to tell me when and where I can "recreate."

Don't cry, Mike.  Just go pop another insurance covered Viagra and fantasize about Anne Coulter.  Then again, don't.  Pictures of Anne are probably what ER doctors use to get rid of those annoying 4 hour bones.

Bieberfreude

Schadenfreude - that wonderfully disgusting human trait whereby we take delight in another's discomfort.

Bieberfreude - that wonderfully wonderful human trait whereby we take delight in a snot nosed punk's comeuppance.

This morning, headlines the world over began screaming about the arrest of Justin Bieber - the self important, trouble making, responsibility eschewing pop "star."

While his droopy pantsed antics make him regular tabloid fodder, this arrest ups the ante, as it were, as he was taken into custody for street racing in a Lamborghini in Miami (Somewhere Paul Walker quietly shakes his head).  The street had been helpfully blocked off at both ends by his entourage, which this time included his father.

Topping off his I-am-untouchable exploits, he was fresh off a stint in a strip club (with Dad in tow), failed a field sobriety test - had been drinking (underage), smoking pot, and on a prescription med.

That is his mugshot.  A self satisfied smile, full of I-am-a-star-and-this-won't-stick.

Well, it needs to stick.  Personally I don't care about the pot.  It's going to eventually be legal everywhere.  But the underage drinking (which appears to be a constant) needs to be answered for - not just by Bieber, but by the bars and strip clubs that serve him.  Establishments that think serving the underage Biebs and Lohans of the world give them cache?  They need to be sent a message -  Serve these entitled little pricks and you will pay.

That he not only drank but then got in his rental penis and raced?  LOCK. HIM. UP.

The best thing that could happen to this little boy is to have a judge care not one whit WHO he is, but only WHAT he has done.  Give him the same punishment that the unknown, nonwealthy citizen would receive for the same offenses.

As a mother, it is not hard to see the handwriting on the wall here.  Something bad is going to happen if he is not confronted and contained.  No one tells this child NO.  No one ever has because he is their meal ticket.  His own mother asks only that we pray for him, all the while enjoying the red carpet treatment his money and fame afford her. 

I'll save my prayers for those who deserve it.  The little boy in my life whose body is filling with fluid, one lung taken over by a tumor, yet he still clings to life.  The innocent citizens who work hard everyday yet struggle to keep the heat on and feed their kids.  The young lady in India who was gang raped by 13 men at the behest of a village elder.

Bieber doesn't need prayers.  He needs a boot in his ass.  He needs someone to stand in front of him and say NO.  He doesn't need celebrity apologists making excuses for him, hangers-on enabling his behavior, or parents who only see the $$ signs not the danger signs.

The kid has talent.  I will not dispute or disparage that.  He is musically gifted and has fans the world over.  But being gifted does not mean you get a free pass to flout the laws of the land in which you stand, or act with impunity.

The cautionary tales abound.  As far back as Danny Bonaduce and Leif Garrett to Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, and Amanda Bynes.  Excess, money, privilege, and zero boundaries have had all of them inside jail cells or treatment facilities.

Bieber doesn't have to end up that way, but at this point, perhaps that is the best answer to what ails him ... and US.

I admit, it may not be the most mature reaction, but I am thoroughly enjoying Bieberfraude as this little punk faces not a cheering concert crowd of tweenies, but some serious music in a courtroom..

"Dogs Are Miracles With Paws"

Dogs have given us their absolute all.  We are the center of their universe.  We are the focus of their love and faith and trust.  They serve us in return for scraps.  It is without a doubt the best deal man has ever made.  ~Roger Caras

This link is making the rounds on Facebook and after scrolling through the story told in pictures I understand why.

FRANCISCO

As heartbreaking as is the beginning, you will find your heart warmed by the end.

I will never understand the inhumanity that dwells inside a person who can mistreat any animal, but especially a dog.  Dogs are loyal, worthy of so much more than we mere humans can ever give them.  They are forgiving, they are resilient, they are kind.  They know when we are down or ill and offer their presence as a steady comfort and security.  They seek us out, they want only to love and be loved, to be encouraged and affirmed.

Dogs are what humans should strive to be.

Wrong Direction

You would think that celebrities would know better.  Simply by virtue of seeing so many of their peers taken down by a Tweet gone viral, an interview splashed across the internet, a video clip viewed millions of times- you would think they would be more cautious, more thoughtful in how they portray themselves, their thoughts.

You would think that.

But then, no one ever thinks they will be the next face dragged into the white hot spotlight or onto the front page of CNN.com.

Phil Robertson discovered that his homophobic, religion based brain farts were not exactly welcome in the public forum when his GQ interview remarks about homosexuality, bestiality, and black people were shared with the world.  Outcry was immediate, the backlash swift and hard.  And as expected, there were as many Robertson apologists as there were those taking him to task.

In the end, viewership is down on Duck Dynasty - not that that wasn't going to happen eventually, after all, nothing lasts forever, especially a fake "reality" TV show - the true definition of "free speech" got a much needed airing as a glut of constitutionally illiterate Americans learned what the amendment actually means, and many Facebook friends lists were housecleaned.

And like all scandals du jour, another jour came along with another scandal and Phil began to fade from the radar.

This past week the award for D List Bigoted Celebrity went to current Bachelor contestant Juan Pablo Galavis who, when asked for his thoughts on a possible gay Bachelor season, responded, "No... I respect [gay people] but, honestly, I don't think it's a good example for kids..."

Really?  This coming from a man who is on a show where women are pimped for his viewing / indulging pleasure?  A man who is part of a human porridge in a hot tub, making out with various women?  A man who is looking for fame true love on a TV show?  Yes, THAT is a much better example for kids.

Barf.

He went on, "Obviously people have their husband and wife and kids and that is how we are brought up. Now there is fathers having kids and all that, and it is hard for me to understand that too in the sense of a household having peoples… Two parents sleeping in the same bed and the kid going into bed… It is confusing in a sense."

Translation?  Icky, oogy to have two same sex parents.

But the cherry on this shit parfait was, "there's this thing about gay people... it seems to me, and I don't know if I'm mistaken or not... but they're more 'pervert' in a sense. And to me the show would be too strong... too hard to watch."

Pervert?  Because you swapping spit with multiple women, trying them all on for size is not perverse AT ALL.

Obviously the fallout was fast and furious.  ABC got out the wooden paddle and spanked him, scrambling to do damage control over their brand.  His "apology" blamed it all on English being his second language.  Sorry, Juan, but "pervert" in Spanish is "pervertido."  Definition:  deviant.

I'd say basic humanity is his second language.

But fear not, Little Homophobic Bachelor, the heat is off you this morning.  Someone much more famous has trotted in on his Twitter stallion to rescue you.

Liam Payne of One Direction tweeted to Duck Dynasty's Willie last night, "@williebosshog huge love to you/your family huge respect for your business prosperities and the family values you still all behold. big fan"

Family values.

I do believe we had those Robertson family values defined last month by Phil and the entire clan coming to his defense.  They include demeaning, ostracizing, marginalizing, and condemning an entire segment of the population all the while hiding behind a book written by people.  Oh, and believing black people were better off and happier before all those equal rights came along and confused them.

Liam was, as should be expected, taken to task immediately by journalists and LGBT advocates the planet over.

Fast forward several hours (and what I would guess were some heated phone calls from his handlers) and this Tweet came forth: "Being a fan of someones show and the way they still hold a family together doesnt mean i am ok with all they say."

Sigh.

I know he's only 20, and not exactly the most intelligent lad on the orb (seriously, a tweet like that when a huge portion of 1D's fanbase is gay?  Stupid, party of 1, your table is ready.), but I would have much more respect if he just stood behind the first Tweet.  Instead he did what all do when they get challenged and realize they stepped in it.  He started to spin.  Started to blame us. 

As the night went on, his immaturity truly began to show as he got in a pissing contest with those daring to call him out, including Tyler Oakley (famed You Tube personality and LGBT advocate who has interviewed 1D many times) which of course led to an army of ignorant, star blinded tweens to start Tweeting Oakley encouraging him to kill himself, which of course has led to headlines the world over.  (Carson and I had a long discussion this morning about integrity, intelligence, what she really believes, and the millions of fans caught up in blindly defending the indefensible because they somehow think Liam cares about them and their opinion.  As I told her, Shaun Cassidy could have cooked a kitten and I would have defended him when I was 12 because we were going to get married, DUH.)

None of these celebrities are Nobel Laureates - they are simply people who fell backassward into luck and fame.  Should their opinions carry more weight?  Of course not, but they do because they have a big platform and access to microphones.  Should they not be allowed their personal beliefs?  Of course not, but they need to be aware that when they open their mouths and share them, they are inviting blowback, differing opinion, bad publicity.  No different than when a celebrity openly supports LGBT equality - they are immediately taken to task by the religious right, FOX News, and conservative causes everywhere.

Look, if you are a homophobe, OWN IT.  If you are a bigot, OWN IT.  Just don't expect your beliefs to not be challenged.  And do NOT cry about your free speech somehow being infringed. 

In this country, your free speech has to do with you not being taken to task or punished by your government.  It has nothing to do with your ass being fired, or someone disagreeing with you.

If you love Duck Dynasty, FINE.  Just love it with your eyes open knowing that you are willingly supporting people who are outspoken in their beliefs that other people are lesser, deviant, going to hell.  If you love The Bachelor, FINE.  Just love him with your eyes open and know you are willingly supporting a man who believes two men or two women should not be parents and are bad examples for kids.  And if you love Liam Payne, FINE.  Just love him with your eyes open and know you are willingly supporting someone who let the shade slip a bit and exposed some of his beliefs, too.

It doesn't mean you have to hate these people.  Personally I feel sorry for them. The way they view the world makes their world a lesser place. 

It doesn't mean Phil Robertson and his fake TV show don't hold some laughs for you; it doesn't mean Juan Pablo and his quest for love doesn't melt your butter; and it doesn't mean that One Direction suddenly can't sing.

It just means, buyer beware, because that's what it comes down to:  $$$.  All the PR hysteria, all the spin, all the backpeddling, empty apologies, and "I was taken out of context" pleas exist for one reason only:  THE BOTTOM LINE.

Theirs is their bank account.  What's yours?

The Greatest Gift Is Peace

I often describe pet ownership as "making a deal with the devil."  In exchange for opening our hearts and homes to an animal, we are also accepting the back end of the deal - that of the pain, heartache, and loss that will inevitably come as we outlive them.

I have five cats and one dog.  They are all wonderful personalities, loving, social family members.  They all add immeasureably to our lives.  I love each one for their quirks, affection, and company.  And even when I regularly refer to one as "Asshole" instead of his real name, it is meant with a love I cannot begin to explain.

And because of that love, I know that I have set myself up for six very painful goodbyes.

Last night my sister and brother-in-law had to say goodbye to one of their furry family members - Takoda, a handsome, wonderful Keeshond.  For the past couple months he had been vomiting regularly, not eating well, losing weight, not quite himself.  They had run tests, tried medications, had xrays, etc.  This past Monday an endoscopy was performed and what the doctor found was crushing.  A mass - cancerous and inoperable - on his lower stomach.

It was simply a matter of time - those words faced with heavy heart by pet owners every day.  And it was with hearts the weight of boulders that Kim and Mike set aside their desires for one more day, one more snuggle, one more wag of his tail, and loved him to the Rainbow Bridge last night.

Tears filled my eyes as they cascaded from hers on the phone.  Her pain palpable, immense grief born of equally immense love.

Years back I wrote of Soleil, one of her dogs that died quickly, so unexpectedly, from a mass on his heart.  There was no time to suffer the question of when, no decision left in her hands.  It simply happened and he was gone.  In some ways that made it easier.  Facing the decision of euthanasia is as horrible as it is blessed.  But being able to ease and end our pets' suffering is ultimately a gift.

I knew nothing I said could make it better, will make it better in the days ahead.  But I am so proud of them for accepting their pain so they could end his. 

She said that she held him and that he was looking right at Mike as he drifted off.  As I told her, that was the greatest gift possible.  Takoda was with his family, feeling loved and secure as he was allowed to drift away from a misery that was only going to get worse.

Millions of people own animals the world over.  And so very many have no idea how to treat them.  They marginalize them, ignore them, leave them outside.  It is heartbreaking because these pets only want to love and be loved.  To be a companion and feel secure.

Every animal should have what Takoda had, what every dog my sister and brother-in-law have has.  They are loved without limits.  They are cared for, nurtured, worried over, groomed, and trained.  They are, I am not exaggerating, the most polite animals you will ever meet.  Because they know unconditional love and the security that comes from being taught limits, expectations, being respected.

Takoda died as he lived.  Loved by two of the most amazing people and pet owners in the world.  It is my privilege to call one my sister and one my brother-in-law.

Rest in peace, Takoda.  I know Soleil was there waiting to welcome you.