Don't Get Me Started with Linda Sharp

Why Do You Hate This Country?

So, not surprisingly - let's be honest, these things are laughably predictable by now - I have again received many "Don't like it, get the fuck out" emails in response to my latest piece on both the NFL "take a knee" controversy and my criticism of the negligent Commander-in-Thief Chief.

"Don't like it, get the fuck out" is a standard go-to for those who cannot tolerate having our founding documents and the words therein enforced.

Those who scream the loudest and profess to be the most patriotic seem to have serious issues with our existing laws, tenets, ideals.  Which brings me to ask, Why do you hate this country?

It's a serious question.

You don't like the first amendment and how it guarantees I can clap back to your freedom of speech utterances.  Your answer to my having a response, an employer firing a bigoted employee, or your politicians being called out for their lies is to scream how YOUR or THEIR free speech is being impinged.

It's not.  Ever.  For starters, it has to do with keeping the government taking steps against you, it does not protect you from repercussions in the public square.  But you hate that those repercussions - from being called an ass to being fired - can happen, despite it being a guaranteed protection/consequence afforded us.  So, why do you hate this country?

You find repugnant "liberty and justice for all" being extended to all - you know, brown people, black people, anyone who doesn't look like they were produced in a Philadelphia Cream Cheese factory.  All means ALL, yet you refuse to acknowledge that.  Why do you hate this country?

You cheer as equality is kept out of reach of people like my son.  He doesn't want more than you have, he wants equal what you have.  Equal opportunities, equal protections, equal liberties, equal justice.  Yet when the government steps forward to insure equality, you scream like the monsters who throw homosexuals from rooftops in the middle east.  Why do you hate this country?

A football player takes a knee as a silent, peaceful form of protest against the obvious and proven brutality meted out repeatedly by police officers against black people, and you lose your minds.  The first amendment literally spells out this act being allowed:  

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

It's right there in black and yellow (that parchment never was white) for you to read, yet you refuse to do so, and you support a President calling for those players to be fired.  Again, why do you hate this country?

You literally wrap yourself in the flag (which incidentally violates the United States flag code), screaming how they are disrespecting it.  Do you know how Colin Kaepernick came to take a knee?  Of course you don't.  He originally sat during the anthem, no one noticed.  It was after a respectful, open dialogue between Kaepernick and a former Green Beret and retired NFL player (Nate Boyer) that he and teammate Eric Reid began to take a knee instead.  Because it’s a respectful gesture.

Nate Boyer: "We sorta came to a middle ground where he would take a knee alongside his teammates. Soldiers take a knee in front of a fallen brother's grave, you know, to show respect."

So you dullards who are screaming about disrespect, this idea came from a GREEN BERET, as a way TO SHOW RESPECT.   Yet you refuse to allow that the protest has merit, or should be allowed at all.

And many of you proudly display confederate flags while crying about the actual flag being disrespected.  Can you honestly not see that idiocy, the lunacy, the hypocrisy in that action?  

Why do you hate this country?

With each passing day, more and more evidence is being reviewed and found to be accurate that Russia did, in fact, pollute our election system, yet you somehow have made Russia and Putin into heroes of yours.  That mental origami is impressive, but it won't make the evidence of collusion and tampering not true.  And if you were actual patriots, you would be demanding answers and accountability from all involved instead of defending every law breaking, oath breaking step that was taken against this nation.

One can only surmise that you do, in fact, hate this country.

You rail against all religions but yours, insisting this is a Christian nation, rebuking anyone who does not buy your version of snake oil.  Again, that inconvenient FIRST AMENDMENT makes it very clear that there is no winner-takes-all when it comes to religion in this country.  This country was founded by people who fled forced religion and religious persecution.  That is why amendment #1 established no state religion, no forced religion, no punishment for your chosen belief system.  You can believe what you want, but you cannot make me believe it.  In fact, I am free to call bullshit on all religions and practice none because I am a United States citizen.

Yet you constantly cry persecution for not being able to force others to your way of worshipping.  Why do you hate this country?

You support a game show host and self admitted piece of shit who has no idea how to do the job he has, and no interest in learning.  You voted for him despite mountains of evidence that he was/is unfit, unsuited, unwilling to do the job.  You twist yourself into knots to continue making excuses for his bad behavior, dangerous rhetoric, and open disdain for anyone who doesn't fall into lockstep to worship him.  He is literally playing nuclear chicken with his unstable twin in North Korea, and you cheer it on.

WHY DO YOU HATE THIS COUNTRY?

It's a literal, honest question.  And it requires that you stop hiding behind your fake patriotism (real patriots would actually be shouting loudly to support our Constitution not subvert it), your fake Christianity (seriously, Jesus shakes his head at how badly you have perverted his teachings), and the ignorance you think makes you REAL.  It doesn't, it makes you dangerous.  Because you don't care enough to be informed, yet you strike out based on the constant lies of Trump and FOX and Breitbart and Red State and Alex Jones, et al.

Your every utterance, your every action shows exactly how much you hate this country.  You cheer at the thought of healthcare being stripped from millions (including YOU, dumbass).  You refuse to acknowledge police brutality even when it is clearly videotaped for you, immediately claiming that the dead black person is to blame.  A young woman is run over and killed by a white supremacist, yet it is her fault for protesting the tiki torch bearing Nazis stomping through her town.  Puerto Rico is devastated, yet you have no idea they are your fellow citizens because your ignorance cannot allow brown people with accents being affiliated with actual citizenship.

WHY DO YOU HATE THIS COUNTRY?

It seems to me that given all these givens, it is YOU who should get the fuck out.  There are plenty of places in this world where religion is forced, patriotism is ensured by threat of bullets, where anyone falling outside heterosexuality on the spectrum is tortured or killed, where criticism of the leader is a death sentence. where protesting lands you in a jail cell or in front of a firing squad.  

You know, all the things you sanction.

So, give it some thought.  Look in the mirror and answer the question.  Your every breath, every action shows how much you actively hate the principles on which this country was founded, so how about you take your own advice:  Don't like it, get the fuck out.

The rest of us will be here forcing this administration, this country to live up to and abide by its promises, its protections, its founding documents.

We Kneed A Real President

Like so many around the world, I have watched in disbelief as Puerto Rico's total devastation has been ignored by Trump in favor of him creating another pissing contest - this time with the NFL.

Puerto Rico, for the uneducated, is a US territory, home to 3.5 million US citizens.

And it was hit by not one, but two hurricanes.  The island and its residents are in danger.  Period.  This is not simply a matter of discomfort, having to sleep under the stars because half a roof is gone.  This is a public health crisis - no electricity, no running water, their infrastructure decimated.  I have been through an aftermath like that, in Kauai in 1992, and the very real danger of hepatitis, among other diseases that breed freely in the absence of proper sanitation.  Now give a thought to what electricity does beyond power your TV or PlayStation.  Without electricity or properly fueled generators, a hospital is simply a building of beds.  And people whose lives are slipping away.  Patients who require dialysis, babies in incubators, critically ill people who require ventilators, monitors, emergency surgery.

Irma hit Puerto Rico roughly two weeks ago.  So they were already hurting badly there.  Then along came Maria.  It was not a secret that Puerto Rico was in Maria's path; Maria's power was well covered on the news.  And the aftermath was one of flooding, destruction, desperation, cries for help.  Those cries have only gotten louder as one dangerous day slips into the next.

Yet the only ones paying attention are private citizens. As it became apparent that our Asshole-In-Chief was not even going to offer up attention via a toilet Tweet at 3am, PEOPLE have been stepping up, organizing fundraisers, relaying messages from people on the island to relatives on the mainland.  Pundits with actual consciences have joined actors, actresses, late night talk hosts demanding this administration DO SOMETHING, SEND AID.

Yet what dominated the past four days?

Dotard Trump's latest fluffing rally in which he called football players who take a knee during the anthem "sons of bitches."

Called out immediately, he did what he always does when cornered:  froths at the mouth and doubles down on a losing hand.  18 Tweets in which he ratcheted up the anger, demanded the NFL fire players who take a knee, and played to his equally ignorant base.  (Imagine President Obama doing ANY of that - conservatives would have been calling for his head.)

For the record, taking a knee - most notably started by Colin Kaepernick - has zero to do with disrespecting the flag or the anthem.  It is a silent protest because as a country we are failing to live up to our hallowed words of "liberty and justice for all."  This protest is about calling attention to the deadly treatment of black people in this country.  

But even if it were not?  We are ALLOWED to do whatever we want during the anthem.  As do so very many of you hypocrites who scratch your nuts in your La-z-boys at home while it plays on your TV, or order nachos and pick your nose in the stadium.  Our soldiers defend THAT.  They are not out there risking their lives for a scrap of fabric or a song.  They are there defending the way of life those things are supposed to represent - our freedoms, equality.  What you practice is not patriotism.  It is some cancerous, mutant strain colored by ignorance, privilege, and hate.  HATEriotism. But you keep wearing your Stars and Stripes Underoos and acting holier than thou about yet another topic you do not remotely understand.  

All of the clutching of chests and rending of garments being done by you cadre of dullards who still prop up this Sham Wow salesman in a bad suit are not only ridiculous, they are, as they always are, baseless.  Ignorance is some badge you people proudly wear.  And there is no use trying to talk truth to stupid - we know that.  You enjoy being obtuse.  

That's fine.  We'll just ignore you.

I fully support every player who uses their TV exposure at game time to take a knee.  And to every one of them who has loudly clapped back at this embarrassing farce in the White House, I applaud them.  The discrimination is real.  The dead bodies are real.  The racial injustice in this country IS REAL.  And that we have the stupidest president in our history running the country like it is some reality TV show in which all that matters are his ratings?

Did you cringe at the word "stupidest"?  Sorry, but he is.  The man is not smart, not interested in learning anything, and is in waaaaaay over his bad combover.

This morning, as pressure and criticism continued to mount, he finally Tweeted about Puerto Rico.  Tweets in which he nonsensically brought up money they owe Wall Street.  Sweet Jesus on a trampoline...

This from the man who came on board and licensed his name to a Puerto Rico golf course, promising to turn it around and manage it, then filed for bankruptcy, leaving the taxpayers there to cover the bonds that had been issued - roughly $32 million.

This was Trump back then:

"Puerto Rico is a fantastic place and deserves the best, which is what we will deliver," Trump said at a 2008 news conference on the island, according to the Washington Post. "Every detail will be important to me."

This has been Trump the past five days:

<insert crickets>

According to White House sources, he wasn't going to say ANYTHING about Puerto Rico, but staff pressured him to finally do so.  Word is he said, "what's happening in the NFL is much worse."

ASS. HOLE.

Peaceful protests are happening in the NFL.  People have died and are dying in Puerto Rico.  But then it is not a stretch to believe Trump did not know Puerto Rico is a US territory, ergo they are US citizens.  And if he did know that, he also knows they voted overwhelmingly for Clinton in the primary.  Either way, screwing them was his intent.

Thankfully, the five living Presidents banded together after Harvey and continue to step up, ignoring the child in the Oval, to provide some semblance of leadership, caring, attention, and focus on the humanitarian crisis unfolding now in Puerto Rico.  OneAmericaAppeal.org  

 

Trump found a microphone today and offered up the most lameass excuse possible regarding how much time has passed since the hurricane hit PR:  "This is an island sitting in the middle of an ocean. It's a big ocean, it's a very big ocean."

We are so f**ked.

Yes, Sherlock, it is a BIIIIIIIIIIIIG ocean.  But I have been to Puerto Rico, and it only took my airplane about four hours to get there.  Face it, you're a loser with the attitude of a warthog that just got kicked in the sac.  You are slobbering, mean, and vindictive.  You could not even bring yourself to acknowledge the suffering of over 3 million of YOUR citizens.  Your silence has been sickening.  And watching you finally get dragged out of the White House by your hairplugs will become a national holiday.

But you go ahead and keep your Twitter war up with the athletes.  (For the record they are owning your ass.)

We'll be over here organizing to help our fellow CITIZENS and KNEEding a real president.

You Will Be Found

One does not have to be a lifelong theater lover to be aware of the Tony winning musical Dear Evan Hansen.  Like Hamilton the year before, DEH came along and became more than just the sum of its parts - great actors, amazing lyrics, stellar orchestration and staging - it became a touchstone.  Through those amazing lyrics by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, Evan Hansen (brought to life by Tony winner Ben Platt) gave voice to the helplessness, aloneness, and fears we all face in our lives.

The words to one of the musical's incredible songs, You Will Be Found, resonated even louder in my heart last night...

Have you ever felt like nobody was there?
Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?
Have you ever felt like you could disappear?
Like you could fall, and no one would hear?

The journey our son has been on for so many years can be found in those words, especially in terms of the beginnings.  The uncertainty, fear, questioning, even self loathing involved as a person slowly begins to connect with their inner truth leads to a self imposed isolation of sorts.  A pulling back, pulling away from others for fear of being found out, seen, before that person is ready to utter the words out loud.

We saw it with Toby.  And while we are now two years and many emotional miles away from those first steps, I look back and have a far greater understanding of just how dark and isolated was that place in which he had moved himself.  When you are trying desperately to understand yourself, it is impossible to believe that anyone else could understand you.

As with Toby, finally saying the words out loud does not fix everything for a transgender person.  Yes, there was relief at confiding in his family and not being rejected, but it also opened a whole new can of uncertain worms - What did it mean?  What steps could he take?  Where was life going to go?  Who would he lose?

Faced with more questions than answers, it is not surprising that he suffered panic attacks, clouds of depression, anger, sadness.  But as I have always believed, the questions are far scarier than the answers, and as we began to formulate our own answers, our lives began to mirror another DEH lyric:

When it all feels so big
'til it all feels so small.

We all stood together as everything felt not only big, but HUGE for Toby.  And as we moved forward through planning and bringing plans to fruition, the "big" started to feel, maybe not "small" but manageable.  Again, there is no set path forward, no map you can buy, just the love you have for your child and the will to walk through the darkness with them.

After leaving his college and the soccer team he had grown to love, more questions settled in - How would my teammates react when they found out?  Who would I lose?  Would they ever communicate with me again?

Well, let that lonely feeling wash away
Maybe there’s a reason to believe you’ll be okay
‘Cause when you don’t feel strong enough to stand
You can reach, reach out your hand

Posting his coming out video was as much an act of courage and relief, as it was one of faith.  Courage because taking a stand for yourself is rare in this world; relief that everything would be out in the open, no more hiding, pretending;  faith that his words would reach the hearts of the people he had loved for so very long, that they would reach out their hands.

As I have written over the past year, friends, family, and strangers alike have been amazing, supportive, even awed by Toby's and our family's willingness to be so completely open.  Yes, there have been the predictable hatemongers, but honestly?  The ugly ones can keep being ugly on their own.  The emotional cesspools of their souls will consume them eventually.

The reactions of Toby's friends and former teammates had been universally supportive when he came out, but it was all also supportive from a distance - Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, texts.  He had not seen any of them in person (save one who came to visit last month).

Until last night.

He and I had driven to Dallas so he could attend a Bleachers concert with his sister Wednesday night.  His former college soccer team had a home game last night, and he asked if we could stay to go watch them play.  Of course I said yes, but my heart clenched a bit, as it will always do, when weighing the what ifs. My mother's heart will never not fear for his safety, or for his heart as he navigates this world.  But my fears aside, he was nothing but excited to see his former roommates, teammates, and other players he had taken under his wing when they were new, frightened freshmen.

Arriving early enough to connect with one of his former roommates when she finished up a class, the hugs and laughs flowed as naturally as they ever had.  The same bad jokes, easy affection, and two-way ribbing that grows from sharing living space and field space for two long years.  Millie was amazing and it made my worried heart hopeful for what would happen post-game when he saw everyone else.

Even when the dark comes crashing through
When you need a friend to carry you
And when you’re broken on the ground
You will be found

Watching the game was a mixture of wonderful and sad for this mom - I admit it.  I miss watching him play soccer.  For almost 15 years I had a front row seat to watch that amazing human being and athlete grow, achieve, lead, dominate.  And while we always knew there was an expiration date on the game, and the past two years have been far more important for him than any season of games would have been, I miss it.

So we cheered, we clapped, we smiled.  And as parents recognized us, they came up with hugs.  Real hugs.  They all know our story, they all now know why Toby left.  And they expressed their support, that they missed us.  Laurel's mom came and sat with us for the entire game, catching up, genuinely happy to see Toby, find out where life was leading him. 

And then the final whistle blew, and we left the stands to wait on the field's edge for the players he desperately wanted to see, to see him there.

Laurel got to him first, as did the first tears to my eyes.

Then one by one, they saw him, and came running.  Former players who had been seniors when he first started on the team came with hugs.  And his "children" - the ones he took under his wing when they came on as freshmen?  The smiles, the hugs, the laughter flowed like the water from my eyes.  

I was glad to be able to hide my tears behind my sunglasses.  

There was no awkwardness, no hesitation, just friends who had loved him, missed him, looked up to him - and still do.  

The goodbyes were bittersweet, as he will be moving to Colorado next month, but that's ok.  They all parted secure in the knowledge that all was right in their worlds.  They had lost nothing, they still had what had drawn them together in the first place.

Driving home to Austin, Toby queued up the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack.  And as the words washed over us, I told him, everything that had made them friends, made them love him, respect him as a player and person - none of that had been lost.  They still saw the person he has always been.  That person has not been diminished or rendered obsolete by the word "transgender".   If anything, it has changed them all for the better - they have all grown, learned, and grasped that the heart is what matters, not the packaging.

So let the sun come streaming in
'Cause you’ll reach up and you’ll rise again
If you only look around
You will be found

Last night I was overwhelmed, today I am still awash in the feelings of happiness and hope - happy that my child's heart still draws people into his orbit, and hope that this generation will teach others to see beyond labels.

Two years ago it all felt so scary, so big.  Now it all feels so small.  And my child, who spent so long feeling afraid, uncertain, lost - is not.

I Remember The Feeling - Revisited

In 1984, Chicago released their album, Chicago 17.  Among the many popular tracks such as Stay The Night, Hard Habit To Break, You're The Inspiration, and Along Comes A Woman sits a lesser played number, but one I woke with in my head this morning as I stared into the dark thinking about what happened to this country 16 years ago.

Remember The Feeling

The title alone speaks to what we are all doing this day.  Remembering.

 
 Remembering the shock and awfulness, the completely surreal images of passenger jets flying into skyscrapers, the horror of watching people on the upper floors - trapped by smoke and heat from a fire so unimaginable - they chose to plummet to their deaths rather than endure one more moment of anguish.

 
Remembering the sobering images of New Yorkers looking like ash covered zombies as they stumbled away from the devastation in shock, firefighters and bystanders carrying away the body of Chaplain Mychal Judge - recognized as the first victim of 9/11 (not because he perished first, but because his body was the first recovered and taken to the coroner).

 
 
 

 Remembering how for one brief shining moment we were ONE.  United by an attack so monstrous, so diabolical, so full of evil, so bereft of human compassion - that when the towers fell, they also stripped away political affiliations, religions, financial barriers, colors, the tags homo and hetero, bi and trans.

 
And in the wake of the cascading rumble and billowing smoke, all that remained were PEOPLE.

She was a vision I couldn't believe
I held her close so that she wouldn't leave
Suddenly helpless, hopelessly falling in love

In this case, "She" is that feeling we all experienced.  The realization that life was indeed fleeting.  That every moment could be our last.  That there but for the grace of whatever God you worship - go you and I.  

I remember the feeling
I remember the way
She came and wrapped her arms around me
Told me that she cared
Said she'd always be there

And we clung to that feeling.  We wrapped our arms around it, fell in love with one another, cared for one another, desperate to find hope, reassurance, safety in our fellow citizens.  And we told ourselves we would never forget, we would move forward TOGETHER.

Taking me places I've never been
She had the beauty that comes from within
Was I just dreaming, was it too good to be true

We flew flags, our cars were decorated with magnet memorabilia, we wore tshirts commemorating the attack.  Patriotism was the oxygen we breathed.  Loving our fellow man (except for those among us who asshattedly go through life with a huge paintbrush wiping broad strokes of fear and hatred over groups like those of Middle Eastern descent), supporting one another, supporting the families of the victims, holding telethons, holding hands...

Was it too good to be true?

I was a man all alone in the night
She came along and she showed me the light
I was confused then she told me the way
I was alone and I begged her to stay

9/11 was a unifier we will unlikely see again in our lifetimes.  A seminal moment, a touchstone moment - our "I remember where I was when..." moment.  It opened our eyes, it showed us the light.  And while fear was a daily emotion in the aftermath, we were no longer alone, we had each other.  And oh, how we begged it to stay.  It was how we navigated the frightening waters surrounding us, how we took the next breath, how we stood up when we all we really wanted was to curl into the fetal position and cry.  How all it took was two sets of eyes locking to know, to feel, to comfort.

We were not alone.

She was alive I was caught by the fire
She brought emotions that filled my desire
I should have noticed that something was wrong
When I awoke she was gone

But then something happened.  

Time.  Time happened.

Time did what its job is to do.  It forces us forward, further and further away from the intensity of tragedy and loss, helps us heal, grow stronger, and shoves us back into our little lives, back into the minutiae that govern our every waking moment.

And in moving us further and further away from 9/11/01, time allowed we human beings to do what we do so well - clump into packs, name call, label make, point fingers, place blame, and forget.

I should have noticed that something was wrong
When I awoke she was gone

And she is gone, again.

It doesn't matter that today we make all the right noises, that politicians make all the right speeches at all the right locations.  That we pause for a moment and remember what took place that September morning.

It doesn't matter.  Because tomorrow will come and we will still be what we have allowed ourselves to become again over the last ten years.  Petty, bickering, juvenile, disconnected, selfish.

Some wrap themselves in the flag.  Are they more patriotic?  No, they're not.  Some scream the loudest and point the fattest fingers.  Are they right?  No, they're not.  Some hate whole groups of people.  Are they better?  No, they absolutely are not.  And some continually place blame on others.  Are they innocent?  Absolutely not.

In memory of those who woke that morning, boarded a plane, went to work, ran towards the buildings while others ran away - we should not just raise yet another flag - we should hang our heads in shame.

 
We have failed them.  By squandering what we had found, what we had gained as human beings, as a citizenry, as a global family - we have let them down.  

It should not take another mass attack, another unfathomable loss of life, another set of surreal images splashed in blood across our flatscreens to make us open our eyes and realize that we need one another, we ARE one another.

And the first step is simple:  Remember The Feeling.