Magic for Adults

At 50 plus…I have given up on Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny!  It is the unfortunate demise of my wishful thinking.  Further leading to my believing in magic demise?  I am an American living in the land of uncertainty.  A land corralled by a orange man with a toddler’s English.

When I first read this story…of course, I did not believe!  Yet, somewhere in my childish ways, I wanted desperately to believe!  I had been brought back to the time my family had a ‘pet’ raccoon.  He would come by daily and eat marshmallows out our hands.

One day the magic ended one day and ‘Rocky’ never returned.  Perhaps, he got tired of the junk food.  Perhaps…he tired of our strange, human behavior.  Yet, as a pre-teen…I wanted to believe, Rocky was with another family.  Bringing them joy and magic!  I suppose…even as a middle aged woman…I still want to believe in magic.

Last week, a three-year-old North Carolina boy went missing in the woods. Toddlers are notoriously bad at taking care of themselves even in the best of circumstances, but freezing temperatures lowered his odds of survival from slim to practically none.

But then, two days later, he was found! Crying, yes, but unharmed. Rescuers pulled young Casey Hathaway out of some bushes he’d become stuck in, and later, when he was safe, asked him what had happened. According to The Guardian,

Casey told police he survived due to the presence of a black bear, which kept him company. The boy repeated the story to his aunt, Breanna Hathaway.

“He said he hung out with a bear for two days,” Hathaway wrote in a Facebook post. “God sent him a friend to keep him safe. God is a good God. Miracles do happen.”

Personally, I believe Hathaway when he says a bear kept him safe from the elements until help arrived. “Real” bear experts are not convinced, or at least, that’s what they say. Chris Servheen, a bear researcher at the University of Montana, insists that Hathaway made the whole thing up:

“Wild bears aren’t friends with people. I don’t want to say he’s not telling the truth, he obviously thinks he’s seen things and maybe he’s got a teddy bear at home. But I’ve seen no evidence anything like that has ever happened.”

“I don’t want to cast aspersions on the child but I think the little boy had a fantasy. The bear wouldn’t feel sorry for him, thinking he’s alone. That’s ascribing human characteristics on wild animals, which is anthropomorphism.”

I realize Servheen is only trying to dissuade people from going out and trying to befriend wild animals, and to that end: OF COURSE THIS IS FAKE. HA HA. STUPID KID.

But history and YouTube contain innumerable examples of interspecies relationships, and I know, in the quiet of heart, that a bear rescued that child. I am not saying anyone should toss their kid outside, assuming a friendly bear will show up and babysit it for free, because that won’t happen! You can’t engineer this stuff.

But tomorrow, when you wake up to the latest news about Trump felling a virgin Amazon rainforest so he can build his border wall entirely with the teeth of endangered Pygmy sloths, and you think that there must be no good left in this whole accursed world, remember: A bear saved a child from dying in the woods. And you will feel at least .005 percent better.

kinja.com/laurennicholeevans

 

Different Like Me?

When young, my house burned down.  It burned itself right to the ground.  No photographs.  No trophies.  Not fish names, Zeak and Zach.  No clothing.  No piece or scrap of a life…that I had come to know.

Being 15 years old.  Much of the usual had been going on, before the loss.  Puberty, confusion, work, confusion, education, confusion, church…and, much more confusion.

To top trauma off?  I began to believe that being gay…was a sin, pitiful and certainly, not something you brag about.  To voice my concern to an abusive father an emotional absent mother…would have been like calling an angry lion out of its den.

Though I do not remember much of that period of time.   I found comfort living at the home of my best friend, Red.  With an agreement between Red’s mother and my parents, the ‘stay’ would not be forever…And, so, a new and hippie improved home, was found on Maple Street.

Launched between Red and I?  The secret life of gay’s in the 80’s, in a semi rural New Hampshire city.  Without words, Red and I, knew we were different.

How fun was that time?  Piper, Red’s mother, was from New York city.  She was divorced with 5 children to raise.  She introduced me to True cigarettes, Amaretto, Joan Baez and watching television from the bed.

So different were those 6 or so months.  I hated to leave and head home to anger and violence that appeared  from nowhere.

What astounds me now?

Leaving New Hampshire, as a young adult, I encountered a vast array of people, places and things.  Most of which, I would never have had the courage to gather in my memories…had it not been for Maple street.

91 percent of New Hampshire is white.  Living in Madison County, North Carolina, at the ripe age of 23 and rainbow proud…there had been only one group akin to the suffering gays were encountering, with Jesse Helms and his prejudice cohorts!  With every pride march and every volunteer group I joined; African-American Pride had been right there to offer a hand in guidance.  After all, they had decades, centuries of experience.

Full circle, I have forged my way back home to the same abusive father and the same, emotionally distant mother.  I have also been able to re-acquaint myself with those I went to school with.

I am furnishing a post from my Facebook page.  It’s topic surrounds the handing of the torch from Obama to Trump.  I am liberal.  What else would I be?

I have few friends.  It is best that way.  I keep my circle close, and offer what love I can.  Those I went to school with, those I wandered the streets of Concord, New Hampshire…with, have not changed.

They long for football days.  They post recipes and abhor politics or…upsetting the apple cart.

I will say first off:

Shame on me.  When the heat turned up over Obama and Trump…abortion, racism and gay rights came into play?  I will say, my first assumption had been, here we go, another cracker carrying a gun talking about my uterus and sexuality.  First and foremost,  I apologize for that generalization.  It is my perception of a group of persons who have aged…yet, live for the next party and next playoff game.

If I were honest, there had never been any comfort in my teens, unless I had been on Maple street with a select few others who were…different like me.

I have posted the conversation with persons I have known for about forty years.

I will say, when the statement,

…babykiller and by angery lesbian who couldn’t get a man.!

Came up…

I felt like the marches I had encountered down south.  When I had been advocating change not only for AIDS, LGBT and African Americans…reappeared again, almost 30 years later.  As though, with what few steps forward my minority, other minorities and many in between the cracks, took forward…we were taking several steps back…

So upsetting to me is the idea that persons I have known; as children, were stating things like…

So tired of the posts about politics.

Trump won.  Get the fuck over it!

or,

better yet,

they post pictures…

of football games and proms from years gone by!

In someone’s estimation.  Someone I cannot even remember growing up with, I was not always gay.  And, I was indeed, just another angry lesbian!

Dear Old Friend,

I have always been gay.  Yet, I feared coming out of the closet until I could get out on my own.  Am I angry?  Fuck yes!  Angry that my politics have upset you so!

John Boy: Nice try!!!! Conservatives didn’t riot or burn other people’s property.
Ruth M Bowley
Ruth M Bowley No! They are just wanting to take my right to marry away! They are just attempting to make sure millions of Americans remain ill. And, more importantly, they would like to go back to an era…before, Martin Luther King!
John Boy That’s not true . He’s only been in office for two days and you are already criticizing the job he has done.
Heath Hetero: He took away the fine for not having ins so he’s already took nobamas hands out of our pockets!
Heath Hetero: Two days in and the new president has done more for America than nobama ever did other countries now want to talk to our New President!
John Boy: The ACA is one of the most complicated bill ever past. Congress voted it in without even reading the whole thing. It has fingers in all sorts of crap that most of us don’t have a clue about. It will not be fixed overnight.
Ruth M Bowley
Ruth M Bowley That is why I am wondering how Heath got a hold of him. Usually, he is not ‘out of the closet’ with his ideas.
John Boy: How do you come up with he’s trying to take your right to marry or your medical and bring us back to the 60s???????? Where did you get this info Ruth Ruth M Bowley??????
Ruth M Bowley
Ruth M Bowley I didn’t answer you yesterday, John. Because there is no reasoning to a white male, who feels he isn’t being heard, who voted for Trump and wants his guns! In other words, John there is no reasoning to a group of America’s population who have not had the struggles that many have.
Heath Hetero: That’s funny because in DC pro life women weren’t welcome in their March! Some equality!!!
Ruth M Bowley

Ruth M Bowley Citizens with pre-existing medical conditions may be concerned about what will happen to them if Obamacare is repealed. And 20 million Americans who have healthcare insurance for the first time may wonder how they will fare under Trumpcare.

John Boy:  Jeeze Ruth didn’t know you knew me better than me . guess I will have to go buy a gun seeing I don’t own one. And I guess I will have to go out and get all the money I have. ( I’m far from rich) and as for being white well I’m sorry I didn’t have a choice about that. And I don’t have any pride in that because how can someone be proud of something that I had no choice in. But that’s fine just believe what you want.
Ruth M Bowley

Ruth M Bowley Odd because I could have sworn I saw a few people from your circle of friends…

Image may contain: 1 person, standing and outdoor
John Boy:  What are you talking about????
Heath Hetero: John I’ve got guns for both of us.Lol oh yeah our founding fathers made sure that I could if you have a problem with that tough shit! As far as preexisting conditions the republicans have said over and over that’s not what they want to get rid of, and 
John Boy:  What did you think you would get with Clinton in office????
John Boy: In my eyes abortion takes the right to live from the child.
JessicaFascinating. This whole conversation is fascinating. Let me make this perfectly clear to all the men on this chat. My uterus is my business. What I choose to do or not to do with it is certainly not your business. No one has a right to tell me what to 
John Boy:  You always had a choice. Don’t get pregnant with your uterus!!!!! Murder is not a right.
John Boy: Your argument does not hold water.
Jessica:  Really? Don’t tell me what to do with my uterus. And by the way. Tell all your kind raping man friends to keep their dicks in their pants. Majority of abortions are to undo a rape.
John Boy: That’s a whole different subject and you know it. A little responsibility can save a life!
Ruth M Bowley
Ruth M Bowley God fearing white man…speaks!
John Boy:  Selfish baby killer speaks.
John Boy:  Bigot
Heath Hetero:  They marched for abortion and for free contraceptives ! Well if they used contraceptives they wouldn’t be pregnant, I have go buy condoms, buy your own pills, and grow up.
Ruth M Bowley
John Boy: Don’t put up the whole post you coward ???
Ruth M Bowley
Ruth M Bowley Yup. I already got your okay.
John Boy: Is your father white any family members white males???? Bigot
Ruth M Bowley In actuality, since this is a public arena, I do not need your permission.
John Boy: She doesn’t even realize that Trump has done alot for gays and supports them . But when your ignorant your ignorant.

John Boy: Your the one who just popped in but that fine I’ve had enough of asshats and pussycaps.

By babykiller and by angery lesbian who couldn’t get a man.
I don’t have a problem with Gay’s never had. But you are what you are angry and you weren’t always a lesbian. I tried to have a civilized conversation but your to much of a bigot. Repost that! Bet you won’t
 
In 1973, when homosexuality was removed from DSM-II, there was a great deal of controversy about that decision in the psychiatric community. Many psychiatrists and psychologists still believed that homosexuality was a psychopathology which must invariably cause impairment and distress. Others recognized that the impairment and distress often seen by clinicians were a byproduct of stigma and social repression of homosexuals. This group argued that the pathologization of homosexuality in the DSM was a form of social control that itself contributed to the social stigma and to the harm it did. See DSM-II_Homosexuality_Revision.pdf
Black Like Me…John Howard Griffin

“Nothing can describe the withering horror of this. You feel lost, sick at heart before such unmasked hatred, not so much because it threatens you as because it shows humans in such an inhuman light. You see a kind of insanity, something so obscene the very obscenity of it (rather than its threat) terrifies you. It was so new I could not take my eyes from the man’s face. I felt like saying: “What in God’s name are you doing to yourself?”

What is ‘Black Like Me’?

Black Like Me, first published in 1961, is a nonfiction book by white journalist John Howard Griffin recounting his journey in the Deep South of the United States, at a time when African-Americans lived under apartheid-like conditions. Griffin was a native of Dallas, Texas, who had his skin temporarily darkened to pass as a black man. He traveled for six weeks throughout the racially segregated states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia to explore life from the other side of the color line. Sepia Magazine financed the project in exchange for the right to print the account first as a series of articles.

 

a Sober Groundhog

In rural New Hampshire, as in rural, North Carolina, the days can collect themselves at your weaknesses.  There is no sightly or unsightly difference between one day to next.  I suppose I took other states hostage…during my addictive haze!  Ohio, Maine, Tennessee, Georgia, Florida, pretty much the southeast coastline…and a few places in between.

However, for aesthics purposes, I will attend to the states of my mind, New Hampshire and North Carolina.

The days in mid winter are long though short.  Almost as if, what little light you see, you want to capture in a Bell Jar and hang on to for dear life.

To a deeply satisfied with self, addict.  Days, night, hours and seconds, are all relative.  A sort despondence occurs.  Like the final break to a bough that seemed strong enough to hold back the stormy weather.

My days were never different.  Dusky, dirty, impoverished, self seeking and evermore…uncertain.

An existentialist would say that, to truly know oneself you must hit rock bottom.  Without rock bottom there is no growth.  No knowledge of your inner most virtues.

 

I have hit, hopefully, my only needed twice…rock bottoms, in two states.  The days not much unlike each other.  Bright and sunny and full of hope, to someone else.  My more recent rock bottom found me entombed by my will run riot.  Incarcerated by four walls, two big bay windows and a bed.  The whole in my soul had ridden it’s high horse for a full year of anti social behavior.  Indeed, I had known sobriety.  I grasped it in my sweaty hands…five years prior.  I also let it go…as if it no longer wished to be caged.  I let it go driving down the highway with a tall boy between my legs, motorcycle weekend on the horizon, in a Scooby Do mini van…looking to get laid at a bar in Haverhill, Mass.

Had I a death-wish?  Honestly?  Every alcoholic, addict, abuser, I know…has a death-wish.  We believe ourselves to be like a cat.  Fighting it out until our last life, the 9th, is used up.  After relapse, when I begun my descent into madness and mayhem; I averaged a gallon of cheap Vodka and a case of beer per day.  Course, the bouts with blotter had to be put aside.  The pills?  Too obvious to those who watched my behavior like hawks.  Booze had strictly been my downfall.  Though, when offered, I did not turn down the occassional chance to do illegal drugs.

It’s all relative!

This different day set in rural New Hampshire.  Started out with neither a bang, toke or pop.  The night before I had been dragged kickin’ and screamin’ to a local AA meeting.  Course my captors had us leaving for our destination way too early.  Therefore, I had the misfortune of stopping by Home Depot after eating a, this is a bad idea, large greasy fry from Burger King.

Today, I cannot stand overhead lights.  Matter of fact, if it doesn’t fit in a lamp…it doesn’t come into my house.

I walked that 1,000 mile journey to the 24 hour chip.  Claps, not judgement, all around.  I who had been so tough as bitten nails, found myself weak in the knees.  Scared of having to deal with the shit storm I had brought about.

That meeting could have happened last night.  With vivid detail, I can list who was there, what hung on the wall, the speaker and the kind of donuts being handed out.

After all the well wishes from past friends with sobriety…I laid myself down for a long winter’s nap.

I don’t cry.  Given my family history…tears were for those of lesser value.  The kinds of people who get picked on.  And, that was not for me.

I cried that night.  Thoughts rambling around, mixed with Dead tunes and burning incense.

One thought:

“Once you say out loud you are an addict.  That is it!  You are banned for life from enjoying a drug or a drink…ever again.”

I hold no one responsible for my illness.  And, yes, there had been lovers than neccessary.  As well as, a wife and children.

Awake and awakening…that morning, I saw part and parcel, the same shit different day.  I had dragged my partner from North Carolina to New Hampshire…promising…change.

Neither one of us found change.  You cannot always rebuild a love that has been hit with a shit stick.  Lesson learned!

“Once I used to believe
I was such a great romancer
Then I came home to a woman
That I could not recognize
When I pressed her for a reason
She refused to even answer
It was then I felt the stranger
Kick me right between the eyes”

Thing is, the woman I did not recognize had not been my wife.  It had been me!  Some serious decisions needed to be made.  A complete life change and the slightest misgiving that…I would have to take care of myself…for once.

The first week in February is tough, up north.  People are generous with their disdain for continued windchill factors.  The ice on the windowpane never melts.  And, the air seems stiff with indifference.

I believe my sobriety date is in and around Groundhog day!  I cannot be absolutely sure.  I could ask my ex wife.  However, after that fateful day…we did not do much intellectual chatter.

And, though, the room spun, the shakes made my insides feel like roadkill, I opened my eyes to ‘same kind of day, but slightly different’.

I stayed locked up in that room for a week.  The detox that time around had been much more physical and far more, mentally grueling.  My legs bare and barely movable, made it to the bathroom, the kitchen and back to the bed.  The sheets were laden with sweat and tears.

Different?  Just a tiny, fragment of an inch!

Oscar Wilde once said,

‘No good deed goes unpunished!’

Certainly he was right.  Yet, the morning seemed lighter.  Easier to take.  The bedroom mirror was not my enemy.  It had been an example of what good could come…if I work for it.

I suppose, with deep philosophical thought, it simply could have been that…I changed the prescription to my spiritual glasses.  Fortunate was I to know there had been a way out.  I know for a fact that those different days.  Days that do not come very often.  Those times when something is left of center…are a precept.  A saturating desire to believe in something greater than I.

15 years later, I still struggle.  But I struggle with life on life’s terms.  As do…most adults.

Help come with Faith

I…Digress

To digress;

RandomwordbyRuth...just another lesbian 4 Hillary!
RandomwordbyRuth…just another lesbian 4 Hillary!

“to stray off of something, to wander from a path, or to turn aside, etc.”.

As the smoke dissipated into the gray skies of New Hampshire, Thursday morn…I struggled with my steps.  The two dogs accompanying me?  Well, we all enjoy ‘quiet’ in different ways…

Recently, walking the old orphanage grounds…plots of land that have now become a new and improved shelter for those in hopes of finding recovery, my roots in sobriety have filled the earth.

Looking about, there is an ancient farm…still in running condition.  Buildings of brick and mortar that laid out the histories of forgotten children…circa, 1900 or so.  And, fresh faces of hope…Hope in kicking the horrible and nasty disease called addiction.

Even with the gods frowning down with rain and mist, I could not be persuaded from the mood I had found.

And, so…I digress…

Attempts at spirituality can be fleeting for anyone…if we were to be honest.  I remember thinking chastising my dogs for being…you guessed it, dogs…

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could bottle moments of clarity?”

As I turned the corner, towards a river, oh so cold, a Canadian Goose, took flight.  Really a sight to see.  Even the dogs took  in a moment of silence.

What have I been so frightened lately?

Had it been the powerful pain that continues to grow with every passing day.  Aches and ailments from playing too many sports.

I played semi pro softball in North Carolina, took one hit too many, defending a strange plate by my feet.

I guess, that is neither here nor there.  I wake in pain, I walk in pain, I live pain.

But this…I can walk through.  But this…I will take and make my own.

The true dilemma?digrese 1

Doubt!  Buddhist will tell you…there is no room for doubt.  So, okay, I will call it, I digress.

Of course, I need to digress.  Truth of the matter?  Recently, memories of past somewhat violent, homophobic events…have haunted me.  Urging me to question, who am I voting for?  Why is it so difficult for people to just love?

This really is not a political post.  Though it does tie into current day issues.

So many people have only just begun to accept my kind.  And, over the past week, I held them captive with the anger I had built over the past forty some odd years.

I texted a friend today, while watching the river flow, the birds scatter…

“Did you know lesbians of a certain age, do not always like gay men?”

When I had lived in North Carolina…I met a woman who told me she was a ‘separatist’!  Not being certain of what she had meant…and certainly intrigued by her ‘physique’…I played the follower.

…separatist feminists do not believe that men can make positive contributions…

Awful to admit!  But, indeed, for a very short period of time…I fell victim to conformity, prejudice and bias.

Today…the one political item?  Hillary Clinton…seemingly, hadn’t come out, in my opinion, soon enough, voicing her need for equality for all.

I sat in judgment.

How dare she?

Who else can I choose?

And,

What was I thinking…supporting her?

Towards the end of my time out in the woods, today, I asked my Higher Power for assistance with my current situation.

Not for the shooting pain in the spine, not the stabs of knife like aches in my knees, not anything that would be obvious with a gait of discomfort.

I asked, simply, please help me to be less judgmental…more mindful!

We all adjust our beliefs, our soul’s purpose…from time to time.  It is called, doubt, it is called, self inventory, it is called whatever…I want it to be.

I didn’t dwell long in the ‘separatism’ crowd.  Didn’t feel right.  I had met so many gay men.  People dying from A.I.D.S.  And, those, helping to assist their friends to a dignified death.

It’s easy to fall victim to the ideas of others.  To not give much thought…until faced with important personal decisions.

Who am I to judge, HIllary, for taking time for perspective, and coming out of the closet…with the right decision?

The truth is sometimes what we want  it to be.  And, always, in the same place we last left it.
The truth is sometimes what we want it to be. And, always, in the same place we last left it.

Ambien and the 7 Deadly Sins

 by UBI Soft  898% Sales Rank in Video Games: 53 (was 529 yesterday)  Platform: Nintendo Wii U (131)  Buy new:  $59.99  $21.99  121 used & new from $14.69

ZombiU – Nintendo Wii U
by UBI Soft Ranking has gone up in the past 24 hours898% Sales Rank in Video Games: 53 (was 529 yesterday) Platform: Nintendo Wii U 4.3 out of 5 stars(131) Buy new: $59.99 $21.99 121 used & new from $14.69

by Amazon Auto Links

Who doesn’t want a new drug?

There are drugs for pissing.  Pills for snoring.  Tablets for dirty toenails.

I know I need a new drug for overactive dog syndrome.  Perhaps, Ambien and Ativan with a slow mix of Nyquil to settle the stomach.

Traveling from New Hampshire to Western North Carolina urban legend had it that the nearly twenty hour trip could be done in a day with the following combination:

Vicodin, Vivarin and Vodka!

Given a keen sense of testing every not so true suggestion, the lethal ingestion was taken just outside of Epsom, N.H., and did not stop letting itself be heard until Black Mountain, North Carolina.

News not so New!

The United States government doesn’t want to legalize pot but would love for us to swallow

Dear Reader,

THIS JUST IN: An insider near Washington D.C. has just blown the lid off the 7 Deadly Drugs the U.S. Government can’t wait for you to swallow.

I wish I could say this was just a conspiracy theory, but this whistleblower has concrete evidence “the powers that be” are shoving pure poison down your throat… and laughing all the way to the bank, while you’re carted off to the graveyard.

Who knows how long this list will be up before “Big Brother” catches on… so don’t wait a moment longer.

Whistleblower Reveals

  • Diabetes prescription drugs (Actos, Avandia, Byetta, Metformin and others) are #6 on our list of the 7 Most Dangerous Drugs
  • Chemotherapy, #7 on our list of the 7 Most Dangerous Drugs.
  • Alzheimer’s prescription drugs… #4 on our list of the 7 Most Dangerous Drugs.

The list goes on and on and on.  What is amazing, however, is the following statistic:

Ambien is the most dangerous pill on the market today.  Essentially it is it’s own Mother’s little helper to suicide.

it looks like sleeping pills could be as risky as smoking cigarettes,” states study leader Daniel Kripke, M.D., a professor of psychiatry emeritus at University of California. “It looks much more dangerous to take these pills than to treat insomnia another way

 

 

Over 400 billion dollars goes into marketing these ‘FDA’ approved pills for a pill society.  Backed and insured with the U.S. seal of approval.

I hate pills.  I despise having to be controlled by them.  Worse yet, there is an aching in the pit of my stomach every time I find myself shackled to a dose of this and that so I can avoid the doctor because I have no insurance.

Wonder if those boys and girls getting ready to shut down the ‘legislative powers that be’ have themselves a good health plan?