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The Birthday Bully Pulpit

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 September 18, 2020 My feelings about the current president are well-known to my family and friends.   As a result, I have a few fewer friends and family on my Christmas card list. I didn’t vote for him for reasons that were both political and personal.   Politically, my views did not comport with the agenda he put forth for the country.   There were other moderate Republicans whose policy positions I could agree with; however, politics being what they are, those folks didn’t make it through the primary— he did.   So I voted for another candidate, with reservations. Politically, as president, it turns out that I have disagreed with almost all of the policy decisions he has made.    That’s what I expected and why , politically , I didn’t cast my vote for him.   “ When people show you who they are, believe them,” said Dr. Maya Angelou, and that’s proven true.    But my reasons for not supporting him were more than political. They were (and are) personal . So today, on my birthday

Why "Pride?"

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I've heard and read some folks in the past few days wondering "what all this Pride business is about." June is LGBTQ+ Pride Month around the world.   Many communities, large and small, have celebrations during this month to recognize the contributions that LGBTQ+ persons make and have made over time, and to recall the struggle for acceptance that so many people have endured--both gay persons and those who are straight "allies"-- to ensure that all are treated with dignity and respect. One such example of struggle was the Stonewall Inn Uprising in New York City's Greenwich Village in the summer of 1969.   Lesbian, gay, and transgender bar patrons, long targeted by the city's police department, finally had enough, and fought back against their oppressors.   This specific incident, which actually played out over several nights that hot summer, is considered a seminal moment in the ongoing fight for LGBTQ+ equality. There are many who are unco

A Snip Here, a Snip There...

“Oh my!  It’s so… unusual! ” Donna felt the words catch in her throat as she struggled against her immediate reaction to the gift her aunt had given her.  The old blanket she now held in her hands was unusual and, for the most part, colorful, but careworn and frayed around the edges.  It was just the sort of gift she’d come to expect from her eccentric Aunt Gussie. “I’m so glad you like it,” Gussie exclaimed, almost gushing.  “I know it’s old and probably doesn’t match your décor, but there’s a lot of history and love in that old thing!” To say it didn’t match the décor in Donna’s home was an understatement.  Donna’s home—her life—was the classic exemplar of monochromatic order.  Donna loved for everything to be “ just so. ”  She’d always been that way—it was how she’d been raised.  “A place for everything, and everything in its place !” she loved to say, emphasizing the last word as she moved something that didn’t “belong” to a well-hidden spot, out of sight and out of m

A Day at the Courthouse

Just another "Texan Tall Tale".... “They look so young,” the gray-haired woman said wistfully to her spouse as she looked toward the counter on the opposite side of the small courthouse lobby.  He smiled and nodded in agreement. She had spied the youthful couple when they entered the building, holding hands and smiling as they strode confidently across the linoleum floor, across to the window marked, “County Clerk—Marriage Licenses.”   Seeing them made her think of a day long ago when she and her beau had taken that same walk. The woman began to create a story in her mind about the youngsters as she saw them being greeted by the clerk.  She imagined the young man to be named Mark, like her grandson.  In fact, he looked a bit like him. The girl?  She looked like a “Kelli” or “Brandi,” or some other name that could end with either “i” or “y.”  They’d probably met at college, through mutual friends, no doubt.  They looked comfortable with one another, she though

We Fear What We Don't Understand

Bathrooms.  Who would have thought we would be talking so much about such private, yet shared experiences? Today, March 7, Senate Bill 6 will be heard in the Senate State Affairs Committee at the State Capitol.  Authored by Sen. Lois Kohlkorst (R-Brenham), the bill aims to restrict access for transgender persons to restrooms and other facilities. Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick has made bathroom access one of his top priorities this session, and his message sounds an alarm: “Menacing men dressed as women are preparing to assault our children and womenfolk!”   Mrs. Kohlkorst, ironically channeling former presidential candidate Hillary Clinton, wrote an opinion piece that appeared in several Texas newspapers this weekend, in which she wrote, “Women’s rights are human rights.”  She also wrote that opponents of SB 6 seemingly have only one goal in mind—to let boys and men into women’s restrooms to prey on girls and women.  “Young men who are ‘curious,’” she wrote, “or hold mor

An Open Letter to My President

January 21, 2017   The President The White House 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW Washington, DC 20500 Dear Mr. President: As a proud citizen of the United States, I want to extend my congratulations to you on the occasion of your inauguration.  The events of this weekend, starting with the words of your speech, all the way through the many demonstrations across the country in response to your ascent to the highest, most respected office in our great country, have moved me to write to you, my president . My president .  Many, like me, have struggled with that notion.  Many Americans have decided that they cannot refer to you as such.  They, like me, did not support you, nor did they vote for you.  They, like me, have been alternately baffled, amused, and frightened by the things you have said and done in the past months.  Though many of my friends and loved ones who did support you suggest that we take you seriously rather than literally, others, like me, are deeply

Cosmic Christ

I love the Nativity story as much as anyone.  In my family, we had a Christmas Eve tradition of gathering in the living room around the tree and hearing the story retold by whomever was the youngest family member able to read from the tattered children’s Bible we had.  In our small-town Methodist church basement, there was the annual Christmas pageant staged by the children’s Sunday School classes, complete with shepherds’ crooks and costumes fashioned from bed sheets.  Told and retold in story and song, the narrative of the birth of Jesus is so much a part of the Christian upbringing, so enmeshed and embellished with different cultural and family traditions, that we are likely encounter it at some point each year with nostalgia, misty eyes, and a lump in the throat. It’s certainly a compelling story, with elements of young love, a grueling journey, political intrigue, and special effects.  The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke each share a version of the “arrival of Jesus.”