AFRIDIGIDIVA

My relatives have fought and died, fought and lived in America since before the Civil War. They have been on both sides of the battle.  In my ancestry, there is African, Native American, Scots-Irish, Greek and Asian. Throughout the centuries, my family only knew how to love.  My foremothers accepted all of us children, regardless of the circumstance that caused our being.  Some of us were brought into this world by choice, others had no choice in the matter.  Some of us were viewed as property, others as companions.  

In my lifetime, I have buried two uncles, a nephew and a brother because of Korea and Viet Nam.  Another brother came home with cancer.  A friend of our family came home in a few pieces, not even enough to truly identify, but we had his funeral anyway.  I remember first hand, the  Tet Offensive. I remember the fall of Saigon.

Veteran’s Day has always been special to me, moreso than almost any other national day. Ironically, it seems to be one of the most forgotten, least remembered, though it is by far, one of the most important.

In our Armed Forces, there are Christians, Muslims, Jews, Pagans, Atheists. Lately, the Islamic soldiers have been getting a bad rap.  Right now, two of my nephews sleep under Iraqi skies. My son in law is in Afghanistan, my daughter in Germany.  We are all connected.

This is a time to come together, to remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for all of us and to thank those who are putting their lives on the line right now so that we can sleep easier under the blanket of the protection that they provide all of us.  ALL OF US.  Not just black, white, christian, muslim, jew, gay, straight.  AMERICANS. 

Colin Powell said it not necessarily best, but certainly eloquently:

 I’m also troubled by, not what Senator McCain says, but what members of the party say. And it is permitted to be said such things as, “Well, you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim.” Well, the correct answer is, he is not a Muslim, he’s a Christian.  He’s always been a Christian.  But the really right answer is, what if he is?  Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer’s no, that’s not America.  Is there something wrong with some seven-year-old Muslim-American kid believing that he or she could be president?  Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, “He’s a Muslim and he might be associated terrorists.” This is not the way we should be doing it in America.  I feel strongly about this particular point because of a picture I saw in a magazine.  It was a photo essay about troops who are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.  And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery, and she had her head on the headstone of her son’s grave.  And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone.  And it gave his awards–Purple Heart, Bronze Star–showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death.  He was 20 years old. And then, at the very top of the headstone, it didn’t have a Christian cross, it didn’t have the Star of David, it had crescent and a star of the Islamic faith.  And his name was Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan, and he was an American. He was born in New Jersey.  He was 14 years old at the time of 9/11, and he waited until he can go serve his country, and he gave his life. 

Hug a VET today!
PEACE!
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Friday was a fairly normal day for us. We attended religious services, had family time, caught up on letters, teased the neighbors with our remaining Obama/Biden signs.  Hubby and son split wood for the expected cold snap.  I drove to the store - rare for me since I prefer being chauffeured.  I noticed that the brakes were softer than I’d remembered. I made a mental note to call our mechanic the next day.

On Saturday, I found out what was the purpose of a master cylinder. Sort of. In a roundabout, crashing way. I did call our mechanic who is a blessed 6 blocks from our house. There’s only one major thoroughfare to traverse. So I’m pumping the brakes on the sidestreets to his shop, right? Now someone please tell me why I didn’t follow my first mind and turn off the car, walk across the street and have some of those big men help me push it to the shop?  Well I didn’t.  Ladies, let me tell you now: GO WITH YOUR FIRST INSTINCT. DO NOT SECOND GUESS THAT LITTLE VOICE! 

Here’s why:

Ler me explain. When I started across the street to the parking lot of the auto repair shop, my car would not stop. I pumped the brakes; I tried throwing it in park; I screamed; I yelled;I prayed. My prayer was answered in the form of a  raised cinderblock wall.  I crashed into it. Fortunately, I was driving a big gas guzzling, petro burning, psuedo-hybrid Ford Taurus.  Built FORD TOUGH! The airbags did NOT deploy.  The damage was to the body mostly. Cracked windshield. Dented hood and top. dents on the sides. Scraps and scratches from the blocks.  My sweet baby Taurus brought the wall down.  I’m thinking of calling it Berlin when we get it back.  That wall sure did come down, didn’t it?

 So the guys run over to see if anyone is hurt and my smart aleck hubby says ” Do you guys work on brakes here?”   Even though I was shaken up, I found myself laughing too.  He always knows how to cheer me up.

Now for my Automotive PSA:

Please check your brakes. At least once a month, just check the fluids and the hoses. Look at your brakepads.  Notice if your brakes feel soft or different and do something about that immediately. Don’t put it off. Just pull in ask for a brake-check. Most places will do them at no charge. 

END OF PSA…

We called our body guy, had the car towed there, made arrangements for something else until he’s done bodywork (basically, roof and windshield).  On the way home, I couldn’t help thinking that  it could have been my grand in the car with us.   As bad as it was, it could have been worse, so much worse.  Once again, we were spared.  If we had ever doubted the love of God for us, or that we as a family were under Divine Protection, Saturday morning ended those doubts.  
PEACE!
ADD

If there was any doubt whatsoever that race/ethnicity or just plain stupidity and hatred still exist in the great state of Oklahoma, just look at last Tuesday’s election results.  President-elect Obama did not win ONE county here.  He was beaten handily, easily. Dare I say, it was a severe smackdown? Almost two to one. In fact, almost every Democrat lost.  This is the only state in the Union that the Repubs- no matter how destitute the economy becomes, no matter how horribly the president performs, no matter how many of our wonderful men and women give the ultimate sacrifice for a lie-will never have to worry about losing.  We bleed red, literally and figuratively. Our backwardness is showing.  Remember that this is the state that not only wanted to define marraige, but also wanted to ban adoption by gay people.

We are a state of haters.  The day after the election, there was a fight at one of the high schools because a couple of girls were chanting “Obama”.  Other’s didn’t like being reminded that there was a black president. And the battle was on.  I had one of my yard signs vandalized. 

 My crazy, meth-head, harassing neighbor called the police and said that I was bothering her because she is a  Republican.  She was allowed to sign a citation for “disturbing the peace”. We go to court in December. I’ll let you know how that turns out.  It seems that now that we have President-elect Obama, Oklahomans have lost their minds.  White Oklahomans are collectively lashing out at any Oklahomans that have appeared to support Obama.

I am hearing more reports from people who have been victims of anti-Obama incidents. It’s really sad that there are people that can’t gracefully accept defeat.  Taking a page from Senator McCain’s gracious concession speech.  Remember when those sore losers started booing when Obama’s name was mentioned? He shushed them and then praised the President-elect. That’s as should have been. That was class. It was the McCain that I would have voted for had THAT McCain run with a viable veep. 

Haters serving mass quantities of Hater-ade. They are living in the past, in a world that hasn’t existed for a long, long time.  They are stuck in a time warp, afraid of the future, afraid of change. They are comfortable with what they know because they fear the unknown. And no matter how much the rest of us try to tell them how incredible the new world will be for them, they won’t believe us.  Fear and ignorance have them in their grasp. A different, better world is an impossible concept for them.

I can’t hate these people. It would be pointless.  Instead I pity them.  Even my own attackers, get my pity. Hating just takes too much energy, too much time.  And with my schedule the one thing I can’t afford to waste is my time.  At this point, it might take too much energy to feel sorry for them. I mean really- what is there to say? What else can we do other than pray for the hapless, helpless, lost and confused?  I can’t imagine the inner struggle, the pain, the terror that they are experiencing.  Life for them since last Tuesday must be horrid.  Living in a world where everyone doesn’t hate like you hate, doesn’t think like you think, doesn’t believe like you believe.  

 It’s sad really. Sad because we tried to warn them a long time ago.  Through out the generations, we have given them hints. Some subtle. Others were in your face and quite obvious. Apparently none were heeded.  We tried to prepare them a little more with Oprah, Montel, Colin Powell, Condoleeza Rice, Tiger Woods, Eminem…  When we passed laws that stopped discrimination, promoted equal rights, we had hoped and prayed that they would understand and accept that a change was coming.  They had lost the message that this was our America too.  And though they didn’t have to share their personal part of it, the whole of it, the IDEA of it, the CONSTITUTION of it, the DEMOCRATIC PROCESS of it, America belonged to all of us. Nor one of us holds a monopoly on being an American.  Disgard that idea.  Let it go.  Relate, Relax, Release.

Take a lesson from November 4th 2008.  It wasn’t the end. That was the start of the beginning.

PEACE!
ADD

Wow! I am still in a state of disbelief, shock, awe.  It’s been three days now and I’m still wrapping my  mind around the idea of a multi-ethnic president.  Of course the rest of the world and the majority of Americans consider President-elect Obama as black, there are other’s who really don’t. Not that it matters at this point anyway. 

I wished my mother and grandmother could have been alive to witness that moment. I know they were with me in spirit.  I would have loved to see the expressions on their faces, the looks of disbelief.  I know my mother would still be waiting for the other shoe to drop, as though this was some sick joke that America was playing on us.

All things are possible through God who strengthens me - Phillipians 4:13

My daughters and son in laws, first and second time voters, cried and laughed. They shouted and high-fived.  And then they started it all over.  I sat watching, wanting to believe, daring to hope that it was really true.  And this was not about Barack Obama being black. This was about someone who offered a chance for something different, something better, something new.  President-elect Obama offered hope.   How could anyone pass up an opportunity for that?

My hope, my prayer is that America won’t look at the new president as proof-positive that African Americans have arrived.  We are still very much disenfranchised. President-elect Obama is just one.  We can’t assume that all white people have arrived because of Bill Gates, Warren Buffett, and a couple of others.  There is still a struggle going on. It’s just gotten tipped to our advantage for awhile. 

All night long, we chanted - more of a mantra really - “Yes we can. Yes we can.  Yes we can.” 

My daughter the optimist first-time  voter reminded me not only can we, but we DID.

PEACE!
ADD

I believe the term is “optimistically cautious”.   I would love to see President Obama.  The polls say he’s in the lead.  This is a significant election.  I’ve already voted. So did two of my daughters.  Even though we took advantage of early voting, you wouldn’t have known it by the lines.  Two and a half hours.  More than 5 thousand decided to take advantage of the early voting on the same day I did.  It was fun. It was tiring.  It was anti-climatic.

This has been perhaps the longest two years of my life.  I honestly didn’t see an end in sight. No one that I know saw an end to this.

There were several firsts, not all evidenced in the national media.  My daughter became a first time voter. So did her beau, Jeff.  Neighbor kids that I didn’t know were old enough to vote stopped by to ask questions about voting.  It was inspiring.

SNL kept me laughing.  Tina Fey became my new hero.  I haven’t had this much fun during an election year since Phil Hartman impersonated President Clinton.  There were a few heated debates this season.  I had my intelligence insulted on more than one occasion.  I did not cast a vote for Senator Obama because he’s black any  more than Sarah Palin’s anatomy would cause me to vote for her.

After two years of campaigning, I was definitely tired of Senator Clinton and her rabid, whiny followers who threatened to jump ship if she didn’t win the nomination.  Alrighty, you weren’t in it for the good fight.  Hold your head up and vote for the Democratic nominee.

I’m happy to have that part of the process over.  Now all that’s left for me is the campaign-watch. 

Popcorn? Check.

Streamers, noisemakers? Check.

Valium, Rolaids? Check.

Televisions with pic in pic screen? Check. Check. Check.

Gentleman start your electoral college counting.

And now there’s nothing to do except urge you all to exercise the right, the moral obligation, your duty to make your choice known on a ballet.  I would be lying if I said that it didn’t matter who you voted for, just go out and vote.  It matters. 

BARACK THE VOTE!

PEACE!
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