A Life Such as That : Patrick Thomas Dougherty

 

I began this particular blog on December 20, 2020. I couldn't post it then though. There was just too much inside me, that I personally had to come to terms with. Perhaps it was the thought that I was blessed with some amazing people in my life that I was actually able to call family and that I didn't fully appreciate the fact, or maybe it was me realizing that right before my eyes, the kids of Ray and Grace were almost gone. There was also the very real fact, that for some reason, this loss, absolutely caught me off guard. At any rate, this blog has sat mostly done but unpublished all of this time. Now, on the heels of yet another loss, I feel that today is the day to post this. Today....I remember my Uncle Pat Dougherty. 

As I have stated before, my mom was the youngest of 11 kids. Since their births spanned out over the course of 20 years, they had what was known as "the big kids," "the little girls," and "the little kids." My mom, of course, was the youngest of the three little kids, and sadly, yesterday, my family lost the last of the little kids, my uncle Pat.

Patrick Thomas Dougherty was born June 6, 1933. He was the tenth child and youngest son of Ray and Grace Dougherty and at the time, they firmly believed he would likely be their last child. Aunt Margaret once told me that Uncle Pat was the cutest baby she had ever seen, and as he grew into a tow-headed freckle-faced little boy, his sibling's nicknamed him Cornbread, which followed him through his early childhood years. Together, Pat, his older brother Jim and his baby sister Mary Jane, (yes Pat was not to be the baby after all), made up "the little kids" of the Dougherty family. As I heard it, the three of them kept both Grandma and their older siblings hopping with their mischief and adventures as young kids.

Growing up in my house, Uncle Pat was someone my mother talked about a great deal. There was three years difference in their ages, and because of this, they grew up very close. Mom loved to tell us stories about long summer days and the fun she and her brothers used to have. Sometimes what started out as fun though, ended up with one or all three of them in trouble, like their great cotton-picking adventure.  Pat and Jim had to go to the field to help pick cotton, and Mom was not about to be left out of the fun she just knew they would be having. Because she was the baby and because no one could pout like Mary Jane, they of course had no choice but to take her and her faithful dog and sidekick Shep, to the field with them. They had no more gotten to the field, when Shep surveyed the area and saw that there were strangers (the other field workers), in the vicinity of his Mary Jane. That apparently was not going to happen, so Shep immediately rounded up all the field workers and chased them into the back of the wagon and I guess for good measure, he treed Pat and Jim. Mom tried to call Shep off to no avail, so she then had to go find Grandpa as Shep refused to let anyone out of the tree or the wagon. Needless to say, Mom got in a lot of trouble and was never allowed in the cotton fields again.

As they got older, Mom refused to ever be one-upped by her brothers, especially not Pat, so when Pat and Jim would play "burnout" baseball without using a glove, Mom refused once again to be left out. They would throw the ball as hard as they could and the other would catch it bare-handed. This left them all with bruised, sometimes bloodied, and always swollen hands, but none would back down and Mom swore they threw it harder to her because she was a girl. It was in one of these baseball games that Mom swung the bat, not knowing Pat was behind her and she split his head open. I don't think Pat even got stitches, because country kids just didn't, but according to Mom, he had a scar which she was sure he carried the rest of his life. Even all the years later as she told the story, you could tell she still felt awful, but it likely didn't stop future shenanigans from the three. 

My mom might have been the baby, which garnered her special attention at times, but Pat was the baby boy and according to Mom, Grandma held a special place for him in her heart. Perhaps it was because he was the youngest boy and for at least two years, she thought he would be her last child, or maybe it was the adorable ornery grin that seemed to melt her, whatever the case though, Pat was special to her and Mom said they all knew it and accepted it and that bond held strong until my Grandma's death.

Mom told of one time when Pat was in high school and he had made the football team. They had an away game and Grandma was just beside herself not wanting him to go. She just had a feeling that something bad was going to happen, but Grandpa and Pat talked her into letting him go and she spent the entire evening wringing her hands and pacing. It turns out that Grandma was right. Pat was put into the game and within moments he was tackled and carried off the field with a broken leg. Yes, apparently she was that connected, to her youngest son. 

Mom's stories about Pat were endless and you could tell that her childhood had been one of hero worship with a little sibling rivalry thrown in for good measure. The Dougherty kids might not have had a lot, but growing up, they always had each other.

When Pat graduated, he went into the Marines and three years later, when Mom graduated, she went into nursing school at St. Anthony's in Oklahoma City. It was here that Mom met another soon to be nurse named Rita Wolf. They became close friends and as Mom told it, she introduced her beloved brother to her new friend and as they say, the rest is history. It wasn't long before Pat and Rita walked down the aisle and began a life together. 

After they got married, I am not sure of the logistics of exactly where they went and what they did, because Mom had graduated nursing school, joined the Army, and was stationed at an army hospital in  Colorado. Mom and Pat's lives were now going in different directions and for whatever reason, the once-close siblings began to lose touch. 

I don't know whether it was eventually or immediately, but Pat and Rita ended up in Columbia, MO and Mom ended up in Kansas via a couple of years in Colorado. Pat and Rita ended up having four girls and a boy and Mom had us. It is funny how time and distance can change even the closest of siblings. I think though, it was mostly my mom. She had a way of compartmentalizing her past, as she moved on to each new phase of her life and even siblings weren't exempt from this. She of course, would hear things through the family grapevine here and there about Pat's job or their kids, but with time and distance, Pat and Rita and this Missouri family, were little more than stories with no reality to my life. 

Even with the distance though, my mom remained fiercely proud of her older brother, and in 1972, when Mom learned that Pat was going to be in the movie Tom Sawyer, with Johnny Whitaker and Jodie Foster, she was over the moon for him. The movie was being filmed in Missouri, not too far from where Pat lived and he showed up to see if he would be picked as an extra. According to Mom, he was chosen because he was one of the only ones who showed up that could drive a team and wagon. 

When the movie came out, Mom took us to the theater to see it immediately and she just beamed with excitement every time she caught a glimpse of her big brother. His appearances were sprinkled throughout the movie and I remember that she wouldn't leave the theater until all the credits rolled, just to see if his name appeared. My mom was so proud of him. 

It was rather funny looking back, that Uncle Pat was really quite a legend in our house. He was this perfect big brother, who by this time had been a Marine, a professor, a civil rights activist and now was an activist for the aging in the job market, through his job in the non-profit sector, and yet I had never met him. 

One time, my Aunt Ruth and her family decided to take a trip to Pat and Rita's and I remember my cousin Susie coming back and talking about that trip. Pat and Rita lived in an old house on some land on the outskirts of Columbia. On their property was an old tavern that had been around since the 1700's and was a historical landmark, that family took care of with great love and respect for the history it represented. It was also a great place to be regaled with ghost stories and spooky nights around the campfire. Susie came home with tales of how amazing Uncle Pat and Aunt Rita were and how much fun she had had with their kids and I was truly jealous. I remember thinking that I really needed to know these people. 

It wasn't until I was in high school that I finally got to meet Pat and Rita for the first time. There was a reunion at Red Rock Canyon State Park, and this time, many of Mom's siblings ended up being there together. I knew Pat the minute I saw him. He was tall and lanky and at the time, his hair was beginning to turn a little gray. He had an amazing smile and he hugged me like he had known me all my life. His personality was big and so was his laugh. I knew then that the stories were not just stories. Uncle Pat was someone special. 

In the years after that, there were more reunions and Uncle Pat became the official family photographer, taking pictures of the individual families and then trying to get the whole bunch of us together, all smiling and all facing forward for the big family photo, and that photo always took more than a few takes to get it right. Even today, when I think of Uncle Pat, I think of him with the camera hung around his neck, his straw hat, and his amazing laugh. Trust me, the Dougherty's know how to laugh.

One of the most intriguing things I ever heard about Uncle Pat came from his youngest daughter. She and I were talking one time at a reunion, it was early on and I had just met them all. I can't even tell you for sure what exactly we were talking about, but she was talking about growing up with Uncle Pat as her dad. She said that they would sit around the dinner table and talk about everything from day to day things, to politics, religion, and world affairs (all things many families shied away from). She said periodically in their discussions, he would flip the page on them, and play devil's advocate, changing his stance completely. She said that by doing this, he made them look at both sides of any issue and thus make their own decisions on the issue. He didn't want school, him, or anyone or anything to influence them. He wanted them to research and decide about life and the world for themselves. He actually trusted their judgment. I never forgot this, maybe because this was much different than I had been raised, and all these years later, it still stays with me. What a brilliant way to raise the next generation and he and Rita did raise some pretty great kids. 

As time went on, we had more big family reunions and then they began adding "Brother/Sister" reunions, where it was just the siblings and their spouses. It was a good way to bring the siblings who were spread out all over the country, together for a weekend at least once a year. This brought them all closer and renewed not only sibling relationships but also sibling friendships.

In 1995, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. She was going to have to have surgery and a bit of a recovery. She lived by herself and I was pregnant at the time. Out of nowhere, Aunt Rita called to tell her she was going to come to town after her surgery and stay with her. Mom knew she needed this but she had anxiety beyond belief. She was so used to doing it all by herself that she was afraid she would just get mad and tell Aunt Rita to leave. Uncle Pat brought her here though and Aunt Rita stayed with mom through her recovery. It was a Godsend for Mom and it was a Godsend for their relationship as it brought them all closer together. 

From that point on, Pat and Rita were a part of the landscape of our lives. They helped Mom through two more cancer surgery's and they even loaded Mom and Aunt Ruth, into their van and took Mom to The Mayo Clinic in Minnesota, an adventure they all seemed to enjoy. 

When Tim (my husband) died suddenly, I walked through the days following his death, with little attention to who was around or what was happening. I was shell shocked and completely lost. What I do remember is when I was at his funeral, I looked up and I saw Uncle Pat and Aunt Rita sitting there and I nearly lost it. Their presence gave me so much comfort and in some strange way, held me together for the rest of the day. It was something I will never forget.  

About 18 months later, once again they would be my comfort and hold me together when three days before Christmas, Mom died. They were on their way to town to see Mom, as she was in the hospital, but sadly she died before they got here. I don't think I had ever felt so alone in my life. David was just barely a year old, and even all of these months later, we were still all struggling with the loss of Tim, and now, Mom was gone. I literally wondered if I was going to survive it all, but then they showed up. When I saw them walk in my door, I dissolved into a mushy, emotional mess....and they let me. They then did one of the kindest things they could have done and instead of going back to MO for Christmas, they stayed with us and then went with us to the funeral the day after Christmas. I remember feeling so guilty that they were missing their own family Christmas, but I was more grateful than they can ever know that they were there. 

In 2011, David was accepted to be seen at Shriners Hospital in St. Louis. This meant periodic trips to St. Louis for him to see the doctors and go to the clinic and for them to make a plan on what he needed. It was decided that he needed major hip and leg surgery. When Pat and Rita, heard about Shriners, they insisted that since it was a 7-hour trip one way, that we cut the trip in half and stay with them on our way through. Our first time through was the first time that I had ever been to their house. It was once again so comforting to see their faces after driving for several hours on uncharted roads....for me anyway. I was beyond stressed about what we were in for with David but walking into their home, it always felt inviting and Uncle Pat seemed to have a way of distracting me and reminding me that all would be well. The man knew a lot about a lot and he and I shared a mutual love of genealogy, which always gave us something to talk about and something other than my own situation to think about. 

After a while, I got braver with my trips to St. Louis, and eventually gained the stamina to make those long trips, round trip in one day. I know it worried Aunt Rita, but we still stopped in to say "hi" on the way up and on the way back. After a while though, David no longer needed Shriners and the trips stopped and at some point, I became my mom, caught up in my own world and basically shuttering myself off from everything that didn't have to do with what was going on in my own day to day life. 

A few times I have talked to Aunt Rita by phone over the years, but time, and circumstance have kept a distance there, maybe the same distance Mom created all those years ago, and maybe it was a way for me to not get too close and risk the pain of losing people I truly adored. 

When I started writing this, I didn't know what it would be or how it would go. I didn't know if it would be a memorial or a reminiscence. I think it turned out to be a walk down memory lane, remembering a man who started out in my life as a character in a story but turned out to be the real deal. He was a devoted son, a little sister's hero, a teacher, a civil rights activist, a warrior for the aging in the workforce, a historian, a genealogist, a photographer, a husband, a father, a grandfather and so much more to so many more. He was kindness, compassion, humor, and wisdom with my grandma's eyes, and my grandpa's laugh. He was the best of this world, and don't think I am the only one of his many nieces and nephews that felt this way. He was funny, kind and one of the coolest uncles a kid could ever have. 

Living in a world without Uncle Pat seems unimaginable, but then again, I know how blessed I was to have been able to call him "uncle" and how much he gave us all while he was here. To Aunt Rita, his kids, and grandkids, my heart aches for you, but Patrick Dougherty was one of those rare truly good humans, who left this world a better place because he was here, and in the end, what more could any of us ask, than to have lived a life such as that?

For the Good

 My intentions were to have my semi-traditional end of the year blog post and then my (again) semi-traditional beginning of the New Year, blog post. As you can see though, we are eight days into the new year and so I am combining. I guess this makes sense though in the big scheme of things, since nothing in 2020 was traditional (semi or otherwise), and thus here you have it. 

If I am honest, 2020 was a year that made me feel a whole lot of emotions and actually changed me a great deal. In fact, this past year probably changed me more than any year I have ever lived through. Perhaps it made me realize that we are no longer strong resilient people like I know we once were. Instead, we seem to have become weaker. We are a country of people who would rather talk than act, would rather be safe than free, and who would rather be taken care of than stand on our own two feet and earn what we have by the sweat of our brow. 

No, I am not going to get political per se, but I can't ignore politics completely if, in fact, I want to honestly speak about this past year, as in many ways, politics were behind much of what made 2020 what it was. 

Not to rehash the last couple of decades, I will simply say that who we were as a country in 2001 and who we are now, is a night and day difference in everything from our patriotism to our core beliefs, to our morality. And while many of us who are older and blame it on the youth, we need to keep in mind that these newer generations hardly remember 9/11 and are so far removed from the threat of real war and the truths of communism that they can hardly be blamed for their beliefs and much of this is our faults. 

We rallied with patriotism after 9/11, because our parents and grandparents had fought in wars. They had been bomb-shelter babies, who knew the realities of losing their rights and their freedoms to those with dollar signs in their eyes and complete submissive rule over others in their hearts. Today's younger generations know none of this and because we sheltered them, they see the world much differently. If they really understood the dangers of the world, do you think they would put themselves or their future children in danger? Of course not, but they are young and as my mom always used to say, "youth is wasted on the young." They do not have the foresight to see what age and wisdom tend to bring. 

So 2020. It started with an attempted political coup and low and behold, 2021 started with the same, with sides reversed. Weird right? Last year also gave us a pandemic, a toilet paper and sanitizer shortage (and I still have no understanding of the toilet paper thing). Then we had the "14-day" lockdown, which was designed to help us get through "the worst" of the pandemic, which turned into months. People were out of work, out of money, and quickly growing out of patience. Kids were not allowed to finish the school year at school, so teachers, parents, and kids did their best to finish the year with as little issue as possible, but truthfully there was "a lot" of issue. 

We learned that the CDC could give hope and take hope all in the same newscast. Doctors and medical professionals could not agree on the best course of action to avoid the disease and people were panicking as worst-case scenarios were constantly barraging both social media and mainstream media. People became paranoid, fearful, and angry as we went into late spring and early summer.

Many milestones and events were either postponed or canceled altogether and graduations, funerals, and events both big and small had to either be changed or completely disregarded. People were working from home if they were working at all, and cabin fever was becoming something very real and very debilitating. People were starting to rebel as neighbors began to turn on each other and "tattle" to the police about gatherings or those that refused to wear masks. That's right! Who would have thought that "masks" would be the new accessory of 2020? 

If politics had not divided us enough at the end of 2019 going into 2020, then the maskers vs. non-maskers wedged itself into that divide even further and people were actually getting into fights in public over......you guessed it....masks. 

Then began the summer of BLM. Like many issues that start with good solid reasoning, when you get humans involved, the issue often takes a sharp turn onto a path that neither is positive nor productive. This was the resurgence of the BLM and their summer of destruction and rioting. It started with a need to look into police departments where racial injustice reared its ugly head. We all knew it was there and that in some areas it was a huge issue, but with our new world of CCTV and a cell phone in every hand, as well as a very high strung media, it was a recipe for disaster. 

People who had been trapped inside for months, who were already frustrated and angry, clung on to the movement like it was the air they breathed. Every city was rioting, destroying, and killing over the movement without a thought to the fact that many times they were destroying their own neighborhoods, businesses, and homes, nor that many of the faces on the front lines were white ANTIFA members whose agenda had nothing to do with black lives and everything to do with anarchy and destruction. Many lives were lost before people started to realize that maybe these riots and destruction were not so much about getting rid of bad cops and racial injustice and more about politics and agendas that really didn't even care about black lives. 

As fall rolled in, many schools refused to open back up full time and students were either left with online learning or a hybrid of both in school and online education. Kids that had been apart since spring break and who had been looking forward to returning to something that was normal were highly disappointed. So were parents and grandparents who ended up having to brush off math and science skills long ago forgotten in the cobwebs of their minds. Many a learning situation has been peppered with the tears of both the instructor and the instructed as both students and "their adults" have suffered through the 2020-2021 school year. 

The holidays this year were hardly festive for many. Between being out of work, having many normal festivities canceled and being limited on financial resources, limited on the ability to socialize (even with family), and the constant droning on of the media of worst-case scenarios.......suicides, domestic violence, and mental health issues sky-rocketed. Drug addiction and drug relapses have been at an all-time high and added to that, it was a presidential election year. None of us was in a good place by Thanksgiving. 

This was the worst election year in my memory. People were sure they were right about EVERYTHING and almost all civil conversation on the topic of just about anything became contentious. No one was listening, everyone was talking and very few had enough facts to even back up their opinions. We were a hateful, hate-filled people, who were turning on each other and constantly going out of our way to cause issue with each other because of how miserable we all were about EVERYTHING! Most of us couldn't wait for the date to change and for it to become 2021. Unfortunately, it takes more than a calendar date change, for a real change to happen and when you drag the baggage of 2020 into the New Year, you are likely not going to see a lot of change. We dragged it and we got exactly what anyone with an ounce of common sense would expect.......more of the same. 

So in bursts 2021, and suddenly those that had supported a coup in early 2020, were now condemning the current coup and all those involved and wondering why everyone can't just get behind the president-elect. Regardless of which side you are on, if you have been watching all this time, you have to understand the ridiculousness of the whole situation and the hypocrisy that oozes from every pore of the American people. Personally, I rolled my eyes so long and so hard, I was afraid they might stick that way. 

For me personally, 2020 was a year of great loss and great sadness, and none of it had to do with COVID. We also had COVID go through our house, and yes, we took normal precautions, wore masks, and washed our hands, but common sense told me that catching COVID was a possibility, just like catching the flu, and that nothing was 100%. I blamed no one (mask wearers or non-mask wearers) and was fully aware that if God chose my death to be by COVID, then I had very little say in the matter. Was it fun? No. Did we all survive? Yes. From the beginning though, I never really feared it. I refused to quit living over a possibility. I guess I would rather die while I am living free than die of fear. 

I can't say that 2020 was all bad. I learned a great deal about people and my relationships with them and I learned about what I will accept and won't accept or tolerate in my life. I found that while an amusing distraction while sitting in a doctor's office, Facebook for the most part is about as non-essential in my life as kale. Trust me, kale is very non-essential. I also found that there is no longer anything remotely ethical about the news media and rather than lose my mind listening to biased and altogether unfactual news reports, that if I want to know about something, I will research it myself and get as close to first-hand information as I can. I don't want to be told how to think. I choose to think for myself. 

I was told in 2020 that because I was a white woman, I was automatically racist. I was also told that I was entitled, for the same reason. On further thought, I realized that we are all a bit racist and prejudice regardless of color or ethnicity. Of course, there is a bias depending on where and how we grew up. It is natural and yes, there are people that take it to extremes in every race, but our differences are what makes us beautiful, unique, and interesting, and as a white woman, I have every right to be proud of who I am, without taking a thing away from any other race or culture. As far as entitlement goes, I feel each of us is entitled to get what we want from life, as long as we are willing to work hard, face obstacles head-on, and yes, fight for it. So if that makes me entitled, then so be it. 

I also learned this year, that to start something and set a goal, does not have to coincide with a calendar date. I started some really interesting things, way before the new year, and some even with a mid-week date. I realized that the date didn't matter. What mattered was that I started. No big goals, just small attainable projects, and so far, all are still in play and I am still succeeding. 

Finally, I learned that even though I am a fairly positive person, being inundated with negativity day in and day out is debilitating. I was beginning to be a hateful and hate-filled person and I really didn't like myself much. Once I stepped away from social media, the mainstream media, and quite a few people, I found myself to be happier, more joy-filled, more productive, and a lot less stressed. Sadly, a few people I love and have no issue with have also fallen into the abyss, since I have socially distanced myself from people (not for COVID reasons at all) but slowly, I will add them back in, if and when I feel social. 

I have taken this time to educate myself, learning to do new things and different projects. I have looked inside myself to see who I really am as a person and what I like and don't like about myself and I have learned to enjoy what I have and to realize that what I want and what I need are two completely different things. 

So there you have it. I have said good-bye to 2020 and hello to 2021 with no real expectations and no desire to make any changes that aren't healthy for me both mentally and physically and positive for my own little piece of the world. Maybe this year I will take up a hobby, take a new path, or find something else new and exciting about my own little world. Whatever happens though, I can pretty much say that 2020 changed me for good and quite possibly for the good, and in the end, that is all we can hope for in any year....right?

Going Forward

 I don't know what it is about this time of year, but my head always gets so full of thoughts that I feel I  "need" to immortalize them all in the written word. This year is no different. 

This has been a crazy unprecedented year of firsts (and hopefully lasts) as well as just downright insanity from all directions, and I have run the gambit of emotions from abject sadness, to anger, to amusement, with a whole lot of gratefulness thrown in. 

It has also been a year of exhaustion. So much change and craziness have brought on both a mental and physical exhaustion that most of us have likely never seen or felt before. Because my brain allows me to do nothing less, I have taken to this blog several times over the year, expressing my opinion, marveling at the world (not always in a good way), and dumping my emotionally pent up baggage on anyone who cares to read this. But then again, isn't that what blogs are for? 

I have also been both chastised and praised for my words. Neither was a goal. In fact, the only goal was to unload the words, feelings, and emotions that seem to fill my brain and twist my soul until I let them flood out. They haven't all been pleasant and at times, even writing them made me feel as if I was going crazy from the craziness that was surrounding me and causing me to feel the need to write them. 

So what does this all mean? I guess it means that writing is my passion, my therapy, my way to communicate when no one is listening, and my way of sharing who I am as a human being. You know....the whole, this is me...love me or hate me thing. 

Some things have been changing in my life of late, and it has really got me thinking and I decided to get serious about things a couple of weeks ago, so I started wondering what is the one thing not family-related that I couldn't live without? Only one thing came to mind.......my WRITING! If you take it away from me, you will likely not like what is left of me. It has been my enduring passion since my 6th-grade teacher Mrs. Kohl had me write and complete my first story. Oh, there had been many unfinished "masterpieces" prior to that, but Mrs. Kohl for some reason had the knack for making me want to write better and from then on, it became like breathing to me.

Even now, no matter what I am doing, I am usually creating a blog piece or story in my head. Whether I am going to sleep at night, driving in the car, out walking, or just working around the house, you can bet that there is some story going on in my head. Tragically, because I don't prioritize well, many of those stories never make it from the creating part to the actual computer page, and then get lost in the dark recesses of my rapidly aging brain. Oh alas, the creativity the world has missed. 

Of late though, I have been writing a lot of different things. Some are very personal, some not so much. Some are stories of my growing up, some are stories of my mom growing up, and some are stories that I just create, usually starting with a what-if scenario. None have made it to the blogosphere so far, but I am thinking I might change that. 

I am tired of writing about the world right now because words alone will not change much that is going on and unfortunately, words are about all I have. Instead, I think I am going to branch out a bit and write some stories, both fact and fiction and maybe write less about the world beyond my house and more about what goes on in my house. Trust me, we are a treasure trove of stories and craziness all on our own. 

Mostly what is going to change in the upcoming months, is that I am going to give myself some time and space to create. I love my life and all that it includes, but I need to find my way back to me again (a journey I try to take every decade or so). Right now, that means letting my creativity flow all the way to the computer and possibly even sharing it with you all. I also have some other creative things I am pursuing, but that is for another day and another blog. 

So going forward, you may be seeing more of me here and I may be asking you to chime in on my content or to even give me ideas for blog pieces. I am never above digging in and doing a little research to learn something new and write about it. Right now though, I am getting my feet wet again and finding my way back into going from point A to point Z without stalling out somewhere in the middle. 

If you like what you see, feel free to comment and if there is a topic you would like to see me cover (please no politics right now....I am politiced out) then let me know and I will try to include it in one of my blog pieces. For now, though, I wish you all a very happy Christmas/Holiday Season and hope you all stay healthy and happy as we finish up this crazy crazy year. 

So....I Went to Mass Today

So..... I went to Mass today. It was only my second time being in the church since the whole COVID-19 thing took over all our lives. The first time was was back in June, when it looked for a brief shining moment, like we might get back to something that looked like normal....but we didn't. 

No, I have not become a CINO (Catholic in name only). I have continued to hold onto my faith, pray like crazy and "attend" Mass on YouTube weekly, but currently, so much is going on in the world, that I decided I needed to head to God's home and the place where I feel His presence the most.

Now our town, though small, has many churches and my church, St. Michael the Archangel, has several hundred families that are practicing Catholics who attend. Those people are usually divided up in attendance in three different Masses each Saturday evening and Sunday morning. As happens with most things, people get comfortable with a certain Mass time and unless they have a scheduling conflict, that becomes the service they frequent. At any given service, the church is two thirds to completely full, with people arriving up to 30 minutes early to say the rosary before Mass begins.

Today, I decided to go at 11:00 a.m.  I was moving rather slow and so as I pulled up, it was about 10:45. My heart literally sank as I parked my car. There were only two other cars in the parking lot. I walked in and the church was all but empty with only three of us in the pews. I knelt down and almost cried. Is this where we were at? Have we become so fearful, that we can't even allow ourselves the sanctuary of God's house?  I prayed my rosary silently.

Within in the next fifteen minutes, more people trickled in and by the start of Mass, the church was less than about a third full (which 1/3rd full is the current recommended capacity for any public building). There was great sadness inside me as I sat there realizing how much the threat of this virus was taking from us and I couldn't help but wonder after this is all over, how many will have completely lost their faith, their way and some even their lives, due to the threat, the fear and the anxiety of COVID-19?

As I sat there, a warm comfort came over me. It is the same way I always feel stepping into this church. I feel a peace and closeness with God that I truly feel no place else. Every time I walk through those doors and into that church, I feel as if I am home. I had no idea how much I had missed not being there, or how much my heart, my soul and my mind needed to be there. Online Mass services may be allowed as a replacement for attending Mass during this "pandemic" according to the dioceses, but it is an empty experience compared to actually being there and being a part of the Mass in all of its beauty and soulful healing.

Suddenly, while praying, out of nowhere, I heard my mothers voice in my head. It was from a conversation that she and I had had many times in my life. She was a child of WWII. She knew that often faith and politics don't mix and thus, faith is discouraged if not destroyed as the rules of God do not always suit the rules of man and thus man tries to destroy the undestroyable....God. Often my mom cautioned me, that there could come a time in my life that "man" might try to force me to choose between God and the secular world. I might even be coerced into denying God to save my own life or that of those I love. She warned me that I must always choose God, for with God all things are possible and if death is the ultimate outcome (and lets face it, we are all going to die one way or another), then those that die choosing God have eternal life. It just all comes down to faith.

So then as I sat in the quiet with my rosary in my hand, it all began to make sense. Mom was not wrong. No, it wasn't some Hitlerish dictator standing over me demanding my allegiance to him and a subsequent denial of God and my faith, (as I am sure she often imagined), but it was still an attempt to force me to deny....or disregard my faith nonetheless.

Throughout the centuries, when things in the world became bad and nearly catastrophic, people of faith always found their way to church...the house of God. Here they knew that God was bigger than anything this secular world could dish out and they were protected by their faith and His grace. It was a faith that got people through famines, wars, deaths and even destruction of all that was around them. Faith in God and God's grace are a mighty armor and it can protect those that believe, from the worst fear to the gravest reality. If you have complete faith in God, then this world and the worst it has to offer are simply no match for the power of the Almighty. So by hiding in fear and not physically attending Mass, in a very real way, I was denying God and allowing fear to override my faith. In essence, I have been doing exactly what my mother warned me against. She was a very smart woman who knew what was coming, she just never could have imagine what form it would take.

The reality of today truly got me to thinking. While some have grabbed their faith and clung to it through all of this, many have found themselves worshiping at the feet of fear and with churches being deemed non-essential, people are losing their foundation in their faith and being drawn into chaos and the worst of secularism in our world. We are at one of the lowest points our country has seen in modern times with unprecedented issues and actions, from deception, to fear, to rioting, looting and murder in the streets. We are drowning in it all emotionally and many are succumbing to the devastation and negativity and losing emotional battles within themselves resulting in abuse, addiction and even death. The slippery slope that our churches closing put many on, is quickly turning into a landslide that people are losing their footing on and they are forgetting that all they need to do is reach up, grab hold and pray.

While I can't speak for others, their feelings or their faith, I can say that today brought me back to a place that I needed to be. I had allowed my sanctuary to be deemed non-essential, when in reality, it was the most essential part of my life. It is my place of peace, where in just moments I realized that no one but God is in control and in all of the chaos, He is allowing us to learn what is really important in this world. Perhaps we have to know fear, hate, unrest and abject sorrow before we are ready to appreciate our blessings, know that fear cannot walk side by side with faith, that hate never solved anything and that love is a powerful gift. Maybe God is allowing us to bleed a little before we can heal completely. I really don't know God's plan, but I do know that all I must do is ask and He is there. He holds me securely in His grace and never more so than when I am in His house.

None of us knows God's plan for us, nor the hour and design of our death. Those things, only God knows and I have no control over any of it. What I can control though, is how I choose to live my life going forward, and living in fear and robbing myself of my faith and that which is spiritually essential to me, is not living at all.  I need to refocus on the fact that God is bigger than any virus, any riot, any political party and anyone or anything in His creation.

Yes....a lot of lessons were learned today as I pulled myself back to a peaceful center. What a beautiful day to renew my faith and re-evaluate "essential."

So....I went to Mass today.

*As always, this is my blog and these are my thoughts, feelings and opinions. I in no way expect anyone to think, feel or express themselves as I do... just because I do. I do however, expect you to respect my right to have them just as I respect yours.

Black Lives Matter and Defunding the Police Part Two

If you happened to have read my blog post from the other day, then you read part one on this two part blog piece. Part One dealt with Black Lives Matter, a few facts and my thoughts and opinions on the topic. Today, I am going to talk about Defunding the Police and again my thoughts, opinions and a few facts thrown in. It is a huge topic right now and one that affects not just black lives, but the lives of all of us in every state, city, town and community across the country.

Again, these are my thoughts and opinions and you are under no obligation to agree. 

So....Defunding the Police (DTP). It is the cry of the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement. Now in my previous post, Black Lives Matter and Defunding the Police Part One, I was clear on how I felt about the movement and it's hypocrisy and the reasons why. I feel no less strongly about the Defunding of the Police.

To begin with, I said something about defunding the police the other day on facebook, and a friend posted to me, this snipit from an article she found (I do not know the source) with the reasoning behind (DTP). Here it is:

Defunding the police is shorthand for a divest and invest model: divesting money from local and state police budgets and reinvesting it into communities, mental health services, and social service programs.
The idea is that American communities have come to rely on their more than 18,000 police agencies to do much more than police. They’re fighting terrorism abroad, performing homeless services, working with children in schools, responding to calls for mental health crises, performing social work and welfare checks, mediating domestic disputes, and responding to drug overdoses. Often, they’re not trained to perform these tasks. 
Those who call for police defunding say they would rather have some duties handled by nonviolent specialists trained in social work, education, or drug counseling.
As the police take on more work, their budgets have also grown substantially. The U.S. spends an estimated $100 billion on their police forces annually, with another $80 billion spent on incarceration. Policing typically accounts for one-third to 60% of American cities’ annual budgets. 
The New York Police Department, for example, has a $6 billion budget—that’s more than spending on homeless services, housing development and upkeep, youth and community services, health and hospitals, and parks and recreation combined.


Alright....it sounds reasonable to a point....on paper. Of course when you figure into that the NYPD also has 36,000 officers and 19,000 civilian employees in one of the highest crime rated cities in the country, not too mention a very high cost of living rate, and that those dollars cover much more than just salaries....they also cover equipment, pensions and classes just to name a few, it all makes a little more sense.

It doesn't matter where in the country you are at though, you have to also realize that you are talking about a group of men and women who every day put their lives on the line to protect and serve our communities with no guarantee that they will make it through a shift alive. The average salary for a cop across the country according to Indeed is $54,174. Broken down that is $4,514 per month, $1,128 per week and $28 per hour. Most cops make much less than that and a lot of less hazardous jobs pay a lot more. So yeah....$28/hr hardly seems like much considering what is ask of them in a day, and yet BLM (if we go by the above definition of defunding) wants to cut their salaries even further. Hmmmmm.

So, just what is a police officers job description? Each department, throughout the country has their own official description but all are pretty much the same, so I just pulled the description from Wikipedia. It seems to cover what we would expect, but let's delve a little deeper.

Police are first responders. In any situation, they are usually first on the scene to secure what could be a volatile situation. Over the years they have been the first ones on scenes like Jonesboro, Columbine, the Oklahoma City Bombing, 9/ll and the list of scenes go on and on. In many cases, even if it is a fire or emergency situation, fire fighters and EMS cannot and will not go into a situation unless police have first come in and secured it. It is for the safety of the firefighters and the EMS crews as well as all civilians involved.

Police also have training in but not limited to: emergency medical treatment, psychology, tactical combat training, search and rescue, domestic violence and abuse, community relations, crime scene investigations, hostage negotiations, crisis management and forensics. Their jobs can entail everything from stopping someone from killing themselves, to handling terrorists threats. They see the best in their communities and they see the very worst and in return, they are screamed at, spit on, called names and treated as though they are the enemy. And probably the most significant part of the job is not only that they have to be prepared to die each and every day, but they also have to be prepared to kill to protect others. Can you even imagine such a job? Yeah, that $28/hour sure doesn't look like that much when the realities of their jobs are focused on.

I have always supported law enforcement. Truthfully, I haven't always liked all the cops I have dealt with, but I have always respected the job they do and how hard I know it is. If I had their jobs and had to deal with what they do, I might not be real likable at times either. Never though, have I needed a cop that they didn't do their job to the fullest and give those involved the help they needed. I guess that is why the other night was concerning to me. We had a group of BLM protesters protesting in Wichita. It was a 3 or 4 night event. The first night they were all but rained out. The second night though, they were a bit more prepared for the weather. It was at this time that I realized that even in Wichita, the greatest number of protesters were not black, but white. Again....kids who have no idea about anyone's struggle, let alone a black persons, and they were not yelling "defund the police," they were yelling the new mantra, "abolish the police!" There is quite a difference in the two. They were also yelling...."Whose streets? Our streets!" Hmmmm. Of the 60-100 protesters, I would bet that maybe 20% paid taxes. Honey...those streets are MY streets. Not yours.

The moment that they yelled "abolish the police," they need to realize that this became something much more serious than they even know. This is no longer a BLM issue. This is now an issue that affects everyone of all colors, as those police protect and serve us all. I refuse to give that up to any group because quite frankly.....my life is just as important as yours. My life matters too!

So.....let's just play devils advocate for a moment. Let's just say we decided right here in Wichita to abolish the police. What might that look like? Well, first of all, we have seen that Millenials and Gen Zers have very little impulse control, nor do they have any understanding of true struggle, not to mention most seem pretty entitled, so no police means they will come in and take what they want, destroy what they want and demand more, with no one telling them what to do. Sounds like utopia...right?

Forget that you have worked hard all your life for something. Without police, there is no one to uphold the law and therefore no law means either you buy a gun and protect yourself and your property or you allow your property to be taken from you. You add into the fact that these particular age groups have absolutely no idea what a "peaceful protest" is, and they tend to involve themselves in a lot of drug activity (heroin, meth, pills, etc) and you are not just dealing with entitlement but also with the mental issues that go along with drug abuse, so there's that to contend with too. It's just getting better...right?

By abolishing the police, then you also lose your front line first responders. You know the ones who keep your boyfriend from beating you to death, or the ones that pull your child from the pool and resuscitate them back to life or the ones that make sure it is safe for EMS and fire fighters to do their jobs to help you. And when people inevitably start shooting each other in the streets because they are sick of no one doing anything....and trust me they will.....whose going to come when your family member or friend is lying in that street bleeding? Whose going to catch your rapist? Whose going to help you find your missing child? Oh right. No one! Because the police were abolished. So....how's that working out for everybody?

Now let's go back to defunding. The fact is that most police departments are underfunded as it is. They are expected to do everything from psycho-analyzing someone to make sure they are not a danger to themselves or someone else, to rushing in to stop a shoot out. Sometimes the training is lacking because the dollars aren't there and yet, you want to defund the pay and resources they do have....so mental health professionals can rush in and do what? Do you think a mental health professional is going to run in and save a family when they have been broken into and someone is holding a gun on them? Is a mental health professional going to go into a crime scene and find a killer? Is a mental health professional going to secure a situation so that EMS can do their jobs? Of course not. It makes no sense and yet this is part of the defunding plan? 

So what does make sense? Perhaps those who have climbed their way up the ladder to six figure or more paychecks within the police departments, do their jobs. Perhaps they take pay cuts themselves so that those serving on the streets can get all the proper training and pay they need and deserve. Perhaps it makes more sense to have universal police training that covers race relations and mental health services for the police to use both on the job and personally. It also makes sense for police to work in communities with mental health professionals to help each other in crisis situations. It makes sense for awareness to be brought about that there are bad cops and to weed out and prosecute those who abuse their jobs and their badges, sending a message to other officers and the communities they serve that abuses of power will not be allowed.

I am in no way saying that there are not issues within police departments. But for all the issues, the good they do on a whole is far greater than the bad. It makes far more sense to fix what is broken than to scrap it all and leave our cities unprotected and open to all forms of criminal activity.

To abolish the police or even defund a little bit will end up being a travesty to everyone. More lives will be lost and I have no doubt, those yelling the loudest for this to happen, will also be the ones who end up crying the loudest if it does. Reallocating dollars into more training and community relations is a far better idea, as well as finding solutions to unite communities with their police forces.

Let's get down to brass tacks though. Much of this goes back to taking responsibility for our actions. How many times have we been pulled over by an officer doing his job, when we were speeding and as we drive away, blaming him? Forget that we were the ones going 45 mph in a clearly marked 30 mph zone, but somehow it is the cops fault for seeing us,  stopping us and giving us a ticket. And of course, our bad attitude has nothing to do with any attitude he might show us....right?  Let's face it, we've all watched enough COPS to know that when someone black or white commits a crime, they are seldom anxious to admit the wrong doing or deal with the consequences of the actions. They will lie, fight and wrongfully accuse....even if it is all caught on camera. It's not all about bad cops. A good deal of it is about people wanting to get away with bad things and the police are in their way. With police upholding the law, there is consequences and we live in a world where no one wants those consequences.

So....let's deal in facts. George Floyd was a criminal. He should have been arrested and he should have had his day in court. He however, should not have died the way he did and the officers involved should be held accountable for their own criminal actions and be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. It's that simple. That does not however mean that because Floyd died at the hands of bad cops, that all cops are bad. The reality is that good cops far outweigh bad cops in every precinct around the country. An even greater reality is that at some point in our lives, the chances are pretty great that we will need a cop and I just pray that when that time comes....they are able to be there when we call.

These are MY streets and I support law enforcement. How about you?

BLM and Defunding the Police Part One

There is so much going on in the world today. Just about anything from the upcoming election to COVID-19 is a good topic to put under a microscope and really look at and talk about, but today, I want to talk about Black Lives Matter (BLM), more so about the literal and not the group and about Defunding the Police. This blog post will be part one and focus on Black Lives Matter.

Please remember, these are my thoughts and opinions and you are in no way obliged to agree. 

Let's start with the term black lives matter. They do you know. They always have, but in our current world, BLM has taken on a new militant meaning and to mention that any other lives might also matter is condemned as hate speech. So for the purpose of getting a few of my opinions and thoughts out there, I am only going to discuss the literal term black lives matter along with a few facts.

The term BLM, as I stated above, has taken on a militant stance against the police and law enforcement. Much has to do with racial profiling and the deaths of black individuals by police. It is not however, just about black people dying or racism in police departments. Black lives matter, because they are human lives. They are men, women and children of all ages and it is not just about their mortality, but also about the quality of their lives, the opportunities they have, their livelihoods and the character of black African Americans.

Have blacks had an easy time in American history? No. It's a simple answer. They were taken from their homes and brought to the United States for one purpose....to be slaves. They were used as field labor, house maids and sex slaves. Many were treated with less dignity than a farm animal and their lives were viewed as expendable because they were seen as property and not as humans. Did black lives matter back then? To much of the North they did, but even back then, not all blacks were treated equally.

In the mid 1800's there were approximately 180 slave owners who themselves were black. Most if not all had also been slaves but had been freed and became more prosperous than those who were still owned. The sad part is that of those 180ish black slave owners, there were black men like William Ellison, a former slave who had prospered and soon realized to continue in prosperity, he needed slaves to help him. Unfortunately, coming from a slave background himself, did not make him a kind and benevolent slave owner. While he was likely more compassionate than his white counterparts, he still made sure his slaves knew he was the master and he kept his distance from those of black skin who worked for him. Did black lives matter to him? Good question.

As time went on, even post Civil War race relations remained tense, especially in the South, and blacks and whites were segregated in every way possible. It pretty much stayed this way until the late 1950's and into the 1960's when the Civil Rights Movement became political, humanistic and spiritual for both blacks and many whites who were realizing that skin color meant nothing. It was the character of a human being that mattered.

The Civil Rights marches of the 1960's did have their moments of anger and frustration, but they were a proud time for black Americans. Men and women dressed in suits and dresses, held their heads high and walked the streets proclaiming that they would no longer sit at the back of the bus, have their children going to segregated schools or be treated like second class citizens because they were black. There were eloquent, history making speeches made by Dr. Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers and other prominent black figures of the day and people were listening. Change was coming and the blacks of the 1960's were being heard, not because they were rioting and destroying, but because they were the change they wanted to see. Was it easy for them? No and many lost their lives for the cause, but at the end of the day, they fought for peace, unity and equality...and they were beginning to win the fight.

Race relations have always had their highs and lows and quite frankly, there are people of all colors that hold prejudice in their heart regardless of how far the rest of the world comes. There are fringe instigators of all colors that will continue to keep race an issue and a tool of division because that is who they are. But they are a minority of any group, not the majority. Unfortunately, sometimes the minority of a group puff themselves up so big and become so loud, that we forget just how small they really are and give them undo credit for being much bigger.

In 2008, the first black president was elected into office.....President Barrack Obama. Not only was he black, but he was also mixed race and part white. On paper, he should have been the greatest unifier our country ever had as he had some understanding what it was like to be on both sides of the color spectrum. In 2008, racial tensions were not that high, but by the time he left office, they had taken new heights. Instead of uniting we were a nation divided by color in a way that had not been seen since the 1960's. It was also during his presidency that the group BLM was founded. It became a time when there was a huge uprising of rioting, killing and destroying by blacks in black communities. A match had been struck and rather than be a peacemaker, the President whether it was intentional or otherwise, fanned the flames of rage and the country exploded.

Now here we are in 2020. We are literally sitting on a powder keg that if it goes off, could put us into the throws of another civil war. How? Why? I have my suspicions, but lets deal in facts. George Floyd.

George Floyd was a black man with a history of drug abuse, theft and holding a pregnant woman at gunpoint. He was not a saint, but he was a man and he died a cruel and unnecessary death at the hands of police in front of many many witnesses. It was the spark that set off a "war" that will likely make future historians look back on us and shake their heads.

In the wake of George Floyds death, he suddenly became the martyr for the BLM movement. He was not squeaky clean and he had been on the wrong side of the law, but within days, his criminal history didn't matter, only his death did. Since then, cities have been destroyed, communities have been destroyed, historical monuments have been destroyed and the lives of police have been put in danger in a way never before seen. Gone are the days of class, pride and eloquence in protesting and now we are in full on blood in the streets rioting. Why? Because BLM! Now this is where I say that yes, I support the lives of blacks but I do not support the movement/organization of BLM because I find it hypocritical.

I have been told by those that are black and those that support BLM that one of their main goals is to push back on police. They want police held accountable for all the black lives they have taken in the past and they demanded justice against the police officers who were involved with Floyds death, but when the officers were arrested, that was not justice enough. They shout "black lives matter" everywhere they go and they want the focus on black lives....so let's put it there and ask some questions.

The number of blacks killed by police in the United states is not as high as the number of whites. But let's take everyone but blacks out of the equation. Is there racial bias in the police force? I am sure there are bad and racist cops that have no business being cops, but those are the few. So in 2019, 235 black people were killed by cops. How many of those black people were criminals? How many of the cops involved were black themselves? How many of the "victims" fired on cops first? How many of them had killed others or would have killed again? Yes, those black lives mattered but rather than blame 235 deaths on police, I can't help but wonder how many of those 235 brought their deaths on by their own actions? We don't have white laws and black laws. We have laws and we have a majority of cops who uphold those laws to protect people of all colors. When the choice is made to break those laws, the consequences are not the law breakers to choose.

Then I have to ask, if black lives matter, then why is the focus only on black deaths caused by police?  According to the Chicago Tribune, in 2020 alone, so far 432 people have died in just Chicago. Of that number, 308 have been black and have ranged in age from less than a year old to elderly. The most black fatalities take place on the South and West sides of the city which are predominantly black and were black on black killings. They are mostly gang and drug related, and this is just one city this year. City's like St. Louis, Atlanta, Los Angela's and New York have their own similar statistics. So....if black lives truly matter to the BLM movement, then why aren't they focused on these numbers? Why aren't they out there walking through the streets of their own neighborhoods and demanding better from others in their communities, because I promise you, for every black life lost, they were someones child, parent, aunt, uncle, grand child, spouse or friend and their lives mattered immensely to those who loved them.

Some more questions. If black lives matter to the movement, then why did the movement allow their protesters to go into black communities and riot, destroying businesses and homes and stealing from the very communities that they live in? Do only those dead by cop, lives matter? What about the very much alive black lives, who no longer have a place to live, shop or work, because the BLM movement destroyed it all? Does the black mother with three kids not matter, now that her home is burned out? Does the black grocer who has spent his life building his business to watch it destroyed and looted not matter? So which black lives matter? Shouldn't all black lives matter and not just the ones that you can sensationalize with an agenda?

And finally, if black lives matter, why are so many of the protesters white? Why are white kids who have no idea what it is like to struggle as a black person, starting to be the face of your movement? Why are you allowing white ANTIFA members who have no loyalty to the black community and who have their own agenda which has nothing to do with black lives, to instigate, deflect and take the focus away from racism and put it on furthering division and hate in our country?

In truth, black lives do matter to me. I want our society corrected so that all humans regardless of color are treated equally and with respect. The fact is we can't change the past, but we can make sure it doesn't repeat itself going forward, but it is not just white people that need to fix this.I don't want to think of a mother or grandmother, sister, brother, child or spouse of any color suffering over the loss of someone they loved due to senseless inter-community killings. Much work needs to be done on all fronts but facts cannot be ignored. Either ALL black lives matter or they don't and if you want true change.....you have to take responsibility instead of constantly placing blame and hiding behind a hypocritical movement, so that you can be the change you want to see.

So these are my thoughts, my opinions and some facts thrown in. There is much wrong in this world and nothing will ever change unless we all work towards that change. Change doesn't start with hate and nothing good ever came from hate. To change, we must listen, hear and take responsibility and then and only then will the world become a better place.

Part Two on BLM and Defuding the Police.....will be coming soon. 

Maskers vs. Anti-Maskers

Happy "almost" 4th of July!!!!

Tomorrow we will be celebrating Independence Day. Well....in theory anyway. Most of us are feeling anything but "independent" and after what has been going on in our government and with the citizens of our country, many also find little to be proud of. Basically we have all lost our damn minds and if proof is needed, just look at social media.

So today, I am going to talk......masks...or what I like to call maskers vs. anti-maskers.  

In my state, our governor "mandated" that as of midnight last night, masks were going to be mandatory in public places. It was then pointed out that the governor did not really hold the power to "force" this decision, so it turned into she "highly suggested" that masks be worn in public places. In essence, she really can't "force" masks to be worn, but she did empower businesses to reject services to customers who do not wear masks. It also became a situation where since there was a great deal of blow back on the mask "suggestion" that the counties started deciding whether they would try to enforce the mandate or not. Our county decided that they would stick with "suggest" since the police had already made a statement that they would not be enforcing, arresting or even acknowledge calls that pertained to mask wearing. Can you blame them? We are in the middle of summer, the highest crime rate time anyway, and because of this mandate they are now going to be inundated with Karen Calls about people not wearing masks.

So where do I stand on the subject? Usually about 6 feet (or further if possible) away from people whether they are wearing a mask or not. I am not a fan of people right now....mask or no mask. I also do a lot of heavy sighing and eye rolling when I see the ridiculousness of what I see on the news and in social media with the maskers vs the anti-maskers.

I do kind of see this from both sides, as fear has been a powerful media tool in the pushing of masks and apparently fear leads a lot of peoples lives. Who knew?  On the other hand, I completely understand the desire to not want to have your face covered when it is 100 degrees outside. Especially when reputable sources on both sides, doctors, scientists and even the CDC have said one thing and then changed it time and time again in the last few months. What we know about this virus is.......we apparently don't know! What I know about this virus is.....I am not going to stop living my life nor am I going to live my life in fear. Like me or hate me.....I don't really care. I guess I am just a rebel like that.

So today I went to Walmart. I hate going to Walmart, especially the day before a holiday weekend. The stars aligned just so though, and today was the day I got to go. Now, I have not been wearing a mask much, but I do carry one with me, as I am not going to disrespect a business if they want me to wear one on their premises. If I don't want to wear a mask, then I don't need to do business there, but if I need their services, then I have enough respect to abide by their wishes.

I truly expected today, with the "suggestion" in place, that I would not be allowed in Walmart without a mask. I was amazed though at the hoards of people shopping along with no masks. Yes, there were slightly more people wearing masks than usual, but there were just as many if not more, without. Because I wanted to get in and get out without incident and because there were soooooo many people in the store, I did actually wear my mask going in. However, after about 10 minutes with the heat, humidity and so many people, I had to take my mask off. My glasses kept fogging up, I was getting a horrible headache and my mask was literally getting wet from the humidity....in the store. I gave up.

I did my shopping without incident and as I was leaving I heard an interesting conversation. The lady who stands at the exit was of course, wearing a mask and an older gentleman and his wife who were also wearing masks, walked up to her and thanked her for wearing the mask. She told them, your welcome but that it was mandatory for all employees to wear one. Then he asked why they were allowing customers to walk around without masks on. She told him that it is Walmart's policy, that they cannot refuse service to anyone whether they are wearing a mask or not and they cannot ask someone to put a mask on. Interesting. So that explained a lot. There are obviously some businesses worried about the economics of this whole virus thing.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not going to get into a knock down drag out over a stupid mask.If it is a business requirement I will do it without comment. If however, I have a choice, you are going to see my naked face every time. Sound funny? Maybe, but that is just me.

Is the virus real? Yes of course it is. There are though, I believe, many "facts" about this virus that are not real. I refuse to argue about it though. Why? Because I could argue with a wall and get further than I can with a masker. When someone acts based in fear, there is no getting through that barrier of fear and resistance and I am not even going to waste my time trying. Life is just too short. I am however, going to go on with my life as simply as possible. I will carry a mask with me and I will wear one where it is required to do business. Every place else, I will social distance, not because I am told to, but because I have always done that.

Bottom line, if you choose to wear a mask, I have no problem with that and you will get no argument from me on your choice...because frankly....it is none of my damn business how you choose to live your life. I also will not argue with you on my choice to wear or not to wear one, because frankly....it is my choice and none of your damn business how I choose to live my life.

I can think of no better way of ending this than with this video of the Star Spangled Banner. Perhaps you will learn something you didn't know.