America's Forgotten Non-Binaries

I have to tell you that living in America today can be a confusing experience.  Maybe not for you, but, for me, it sometimes is.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a satirical post regarding the bathroom situation vis-a-vis the transgender controversy (Remodeling America's Bathrooms).  The whole thing is so ludicrous that satire is the only response I have for it.  I guess what confuses me is that there are those who take this whole thing so seriously.

I reckon I'm a man out of place in time.  1860 anyone?

If it weren't so deadly serious, it would actually be humorous.  I can easily imagine, in the not too distant past, comics writing whole routines on the subject.  The jokes would be funny because they would be so outrageous.  Today, however, those would-be jokes are reality, not the fevered imaginings of the comic.

You probably think I'm joking about this.  Sadly, no.

In Minnesota, there is a proposal by the School Safety Technical Assistance Council (who makes up names like this?) to help the plight of transgender students.  Proposals include dismissing all gender-based pronouns.  No more he, she, him, or her.  No more boys and girls, instead, we must say "students" or "scholars."

Homecoming King or Queen?  Not on your life.  Now we hail the "Prom Ambassadors."  But let's give credit where it's due: they are not completely inflexible.  They do make provision for the phrase "Homecoming Royalty."

As an aside, I would have thought that the word "Royalty" would have been banned because it suggests that some student scholars are better than others.  On the other hand, maybe everyone who attends the prom gets a participation trophy, so the zero-sum game is maintained.  I'm just not sure what the rules are anymore.

The extra bathrooms go without saying.  Any student who is uncomfortable sharing a bathroom with a transgender student is welcome to go use the single-user bathroom.  Again, I'm confused.  Why doesn't the transgender "scholar" go use the single user bathroom?  Surely there are fewer transgender scholars, right?

There's more, but I'm getting sick of talking about this.

Let's go to the nation's capitol.  In Washington, D.C., there is a new box to check on the driver's license application.  You may check "male," "female," or "X."

I don't know what an "X" is.  But, get this, they call it "non-binary."

So, Washington, D.C. has a non-binary option on their driver's license application.

Hooray.  It's a topic that has haunted Americans for generations.  Holy cow, have we gone collectively insane?

It would be hard to prove otherwise, I suppose.

It's days like these that really do make me feel like a curmudgeon.  I used to joke about being an old grouch, but it's becoming a reality.

Kind of like transgender bathroom privileges.

It's just not that funny anymore.

TheCurmudgeon

p.s.  I'm BINARY, dammit.

American Vitriol

Rep. Steve Scalise (R-LA)

I didn't really want to talk more about the shooting of Rep. Steve Scalise (R-LA) again, but, in light of the comments made over the past two weeks, I feel compelled to do so.  See America the Beautiful for my first post on this subject.

On the plus side, we have seen genuine outpourings of love and compassion expressed across all political spectra.  It's so pleasant to see political enemies express heartfelt sadness and support in the wake of such tragedy.  It's how families are supposed to act; it's how Americans are supposed to act.

On the other hand, there are political enemies who haven't been acting like proper siblings.

Here are some examples:

Representative  Keith Ellison (D-MN) claims that the president has created a "culture of incivility" which allows crazed individuals to "go off the rails."

"What I think is when the president says ‘punch them in the face,' ‘carry them out in a stretcher,' he creates a culture of incivility which sort of lets anybody who's loosely hinged to reality just sort of go off the rails."

America the Beautiful

Rep. Steve Scalise, R-LA

I've been thinking a bit about the shootings in Alexandria, VA last week.  The attack wounded Congressman Steve Scalise (R-LA) and several others. Capitol Police officers David Bailey and Crystal Griner, who were present as part of Scalise's security detail, responded with a counter-attack and killed the shooter.  Both were wounded in the process.  Witnesses believe that they saved lives by their quick and decisive action.

That's the bare-bones story.  But it leaves us with much to think about regarding the divisiveness present in America these days.

Have we really reached a point in America in which we cannot disagree without physical violence?

The more I think of this particular shooting, the sicker I get.  The angrier I become.

This shooting does not represent the America I know and love.

Anyone who thinks it does, is deranged.

The shock of this outrage lasted but a few minutes in some quarters, if it even existed at all.  Within days, while he was still unconscious, Scalise's political detractors said that his shooting was "self-inflicted to some degree"

Why was it self-inflicted?

Because of his politics, of course.

Huh?

Lucky Man

I'm feeling a bit sentimental this morning, so, for just a few minutes, I'll shed my curmudgeonly nature.

A couple of days ago, my daughter, Becky, called and asked if I'd like to meet her for lunch.  As she lives 2-3 hours away, it was something of a sacrifice for her.  Of course, I said yes.  What man in his right mind turns down lunch with a beautiful, smart, witty, and talented daughter?  Right?

As we were standing in the restaurant waiting to be seated, I glanced up and my son was standing next to us.  He lives 15 hours away (in Denver, CO) and was in town for business.  I didn't know he was in town, so I was shocked to see him.

Wow.  Lunch with two of my three kids.  And it was their idea!  That's what I've been thinking about.  They wanted to spend time with their old man.  Naturally, they expected me to pay, so it could be that they just wanted a free meal, but I'll choose not to dwell upon that for the time being.  It would be too curmudgeonly to do so.

As if their mere presence wasn't enough, Becky came bearing gifts for a combo Father's Day/Birthday.  She gave me the nicest photo of her and me from her wedding 5 months ago.  I love photos from my kids.  Every one is always displayed proudly.

In addition to the photograph, she gave me a six-pack of TurboDog, some coffee, and some espresso candy.  She knows her dad!

Also, her wit was on full display with the Father's Day card she choose.  Here's the front:



And here's the inside:

I'm still laughing about it.  When she was little, I used to say that she was snarky.  Methinks that she's not outgrown it.

Debunking Racism-One Klansman at a Time

Yesterday, I saw a documentary on Netflix called Accidental Courtesy.  It's the story of blues/jazz musician Daryl Davis and his relationship with white supremacists.

Interestingly, Davis is Black.

It's not often that I find something truly thought provoking these days.  Neither do I find very many unique approaches to societal problems. 

But, Daryl Davis is both thought provoking and unique.

His premise is a simple one.  He began to ponder on this question as a boy:

"Why do people hate me when they don't even know me?"

To give some context, you need to know that Davis was born in 1958.  His father was in the Secret Service and later he was a Department of State Foreign Service Officer.  Because of his father's vocation, Davis lived all over the world as a child and was exposed to various cultures, races, and religions.  He went to school with children from all over the globe.

And they all got along fine.

Until he came home to the America northeast and joined the Cub Scouts.

While marching in a parade with the other Cubbys, things were thrown at him.  He must have been a pretty cute little kid, because he thought that people in the town must really hate the Cub Scouts.  He didn't even realize that he was the only black child in the group, nor did he realize that he was the only one being hit with projectiles.

When he got home and described the incident to his parents, they broke the sad news to him that there were people who hated him because of his skin color.  Instinctively, he was sure that they were wrong.  People didn't hate over something so superficial!  Anyway, how could they hate him if they didn't even know him?

He was certain that his parents were lying to him.

His ten-year old mind could not get around the fact that his parents were telling him an awful truth.

He went on to attend Howard University where he graduated with a degree in music.  Since then, he's made a name for himself playing with such legendary icons of American music as Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, and B.B. King, to name just a few.

Along the way, though, he developed an interesting side vocation: meeting and befriending white racists and supremacists.

Flying the Friendly Skies

Megan in FreeFall

Fiancée has some quirks.

One of her quirks is that she loves being surprised.  You may lazily yawn and say that you enjoy a good surprise, too.  But that is not at all what I'm talking about.  I mean that she LOVES it.

Think last-day-of-school-summer's-here-now kind of excited.

Think winning a billion dollar lottery kind of excited.

Think the-kids-are-gone-for-the-weekend kind of excited.

If you're female, think bubble bath, a glass of wine, and no one yelling, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy," kind of excited.

If you're a guy, think kids are being quiet, she's shriveling in the bath, and I'm not in trouble for something that I don't really understand kind of greatness.

She gets like a little kid.

Not kidding.

Needless to say, I noticed this pretty early on in our relationship, and, to my credit, I have created some cool surprises for her.

Redfish in Venice, Louisiana

Once, I took her fishing in Venice, Louisiana.  She had no idea where we were going, much less the reason for the trip.  We were at the end of the continental United States, right before one disappears into the Gulf of Mexico, and she still didn't quite know what we were doing all the way down there.  She didn't do very well at guessing that surprise, but she caught plenty of redfish and speckled trout that day.  She was excited.

So, keeping with the tradition of random surprises, I found a skydive place and booked a reservation for her.  Unbeknownst to her, of course.  Then I told her the date and said that that day was all mine because she had a surprise coming.  I even handled the child-care issues.

She says that I'm amazing.

Who am I to question insight when it's so perceptive?

Shipwrecked at Angola

Shipwrecked

Well... We made it back from the rodeo all in one piece.  We even had a good time, mostly.  Successful trip, I'd say.  Wouldn't you?

We began the journey later than we meant to, but, of course, that's my fault.  Somehow.

As you may or may not know, Fiancée has two sons.  One, of course is the little tornado; he's eight.  The other is a freshman in college; he's eighteen.  We decided to swing by his university and include him in our little rodeo soiree.  I was happy to do so, and I'm glad he went.  Besides, he's thin, so he doesn't really add much weight to the bus.

After picking up skinny boy, we headed to Vidalia, Louisiana to overnight in the Wal-Mart parking lot there.  I'm really getting acquainted with the Wal-Mart parking lots in America.

Crossing the Mighty Mississippi

I went to sleep with instructions to be awakened at a certain time, but Fiancée took pity on me and let me sleep in.  (For you English critics out there, "in did she allow me to sleep.")  She's really very sweet to me.  And I do try hard to appreciate her kindnesses.  My new motto is: "Clocks be damned!"  It's easier that way.

We crossed the mighty Mississippi River into Natchez, Mississippi and headed south to Angola.  I've never been this way before, so I had no knowledge of the local roads.  I followed the GPS which directed me onto a "highway" that has a speed limit of 45mph.  Hmmmph.  I came to the conclusion that 45mph was a very optimistic assessment of the maximum speed that one should travel on this particular stretch of asphalt, patches, and potholes.