I Am A Liberal – Part the Second

This is the second in a series. To read the first, click here

The Nanny-State

That’s what they call us. They say we want to intervene in peoples’ lives. Tell them how to live. What to eat. When to exercise. Blah. Blah. Blah.
You know what. It’s true. I do. My secret, all-consuming passion is to make sure that everyone has access to healthy, natural food. I want urban and rural recreation areas that are safe and well-maintained. I want pregnant women to have access to adequate pre- and post-natal care. I want children to have access to early education programs no matter their socio-economic background. I want to teach the world to learn so they can buy themselves a Coke!
These, to me, seem like reasonable and appropriate uses of public funds. You know taxes. Remember, I LOVE them. Sometimes I don’t think we pay enough to be truly effective. That’s right; I said it and you can quote me on that.
It’s why I’m annoyed about the retaliatory vote to defund the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and the important and necessary programming that it funds. You know, those lefty-subversives: Elmo and Big Bird. Seriously. Who doesn’t think Caillou is a smarmy little commie bastard? And Rosita on Sesame Street, anchor-baby! Oh, don’t get me started on Ernie and Bert. Oh. My. God. It is a bastion of liberalism. Maybe they are right. Hahaha – just kidding. They’re ridiculous!
I know another group that believes in the Nanny-State. Hint: it’s not liberals. But the only thing they seem to want to regulate is our bodies. Who we do, how we do, and where we do. It’s been said that they want to shrink the size of government so it fits in the bedroom; or a uterus. Guess what? Stay out of both. I don’t care what Bill and Jeff do as long as they both consent. Karen and Peggy too (you go girls)!
Abortion’s another thing. It’s legal you know. It has been for years. Keep it that way. You know the best thing about choice. You get to choose NO. Anytime you want. I’m done dicing up the abortion debate. Have one or don’t. It’s really that simple. Listen carefully: I don’t care if you get raped; have consensual, unprotected sex; or have a health-risk from a pregnancy abortion is a decision between a woman and whomever SHE brings into it. Be that her partner, her spouse, her doctor or her god. I don’t care what your views are. Don’t want one don’t have one. Easy. Peasey. Lemon. Squeezy.

Conservatives are on a mission to destroy everything they deem supportive of Democrats and the Democratic Party. UnionsP; making it more difficult to voteP; defunding educationP. It’s only going to get worse.

I have a word of caution for my left-handed friends – watch your backs, you may be next…

And my American Idol is….

Jennifer Lopez!
I have surprised myself with how big my girl-crush on JLo has become. Seriously, I could watch a whole hour of Ms. Lopez smiling and saying nice things to people. I’m not kidding. I’ve watched stupider shows.
I’m in awe of how she is able to extract the essence from a less-than-stellar performance, examine it, and hand it back with a recommendation. And she does this in a way that builds up rather than tears down. Masterful.
Case in point. Naima. Last night was a hot-buttered mess! Don’t even argue with me, it was. I love her; she’s my favorite girl in the game right now. But last night was just no. Not good. What did JLo say to Miss Hot-Buttered Mess? I’m paraphrasing here “It’s really hard to have control when you’re jumping around on the stage and singing isn’t it? That takes work.” Not calling her out in a way designed to embarrass her. No. She was empathizing with her about a shared experience: the difficulty of performing.
In that moment, she gave her several things: her intact dignity, constructive criticism, and a plan to improve.
More of this please, Idol.

I Love Sunday

I’m not particularly religious. I guess you could say I try to live according to the Christian tenants of “love thy neighbor” and “do onto others…” but with a bit of pagan and secular humanism thrown in. Basically, I’m winging it. It’s working for me. Even at my sickest, I trusted science, not God, to make me better.
I don’t have the patience or tolerance for organized religion. Really. It annoys me. I know others find peace and solace and community; I find rules and hypocrisy. But that’s not the point of this blog.
Why do I love Sunday? It seems to be the day, whether by design or default, that I stay around the house. It’s bacon and eggs day. It’s laundry day. It’s shopping day. It’s catch up on homework day. It’s the day I feel fully connected to being home. Work a nagging, pesky insect in the corner. I know it’s there but it hasn’t arrived yet to fully annoy me.
It generally has a pace and rythym that I strive for the rest of the week. Kids (and generally hubby) sleep in. Even the dog sleeps in. Sundy morning is my time. It’s quiet and peaceful. I get time to myself to write, uninterrupted.
It’s easy like, well Sunday morning (oh come on, you knew it was coming).
Oops, they’re starting to stir. Switching to Mom mode in 3… 2…

I Am A Liberal – Part the First

Not just any kind of liberal. No. I’m a special liberal. I’m a progressive liberal. Know what that means? It means I want to take all your money and give it to low-lives and welfare queens; I want crackheads to get all the crack they want and I want you to pay for it; I want to turn the constitution into a party hat, for the crackheads; Oh, and I want to eat your babies. All that’s true; except for the part where I don’t.
I believe in work. I believe in family. I believe in freedom. I believe in fighting for what’s important. I believe in the inherent goodness of people. I believe a nation’s greatness is based on how it treats it’s most helpless.  I stole that last bit from Aristotle. Pretty good, right? Stick around I might give you more Philosophy 101.
I believe in taxes. There I said it. Taxes. Taxes. Taxes. Know why? I like roads, and police, and firemen, and libraries, and schools. I like knowing that a safety net of social services exists should me, my friends, or someone I don’t even know, need it. And no I don’t believe that we have an evil cabal of welfare queens and crackheads waiting to suck every last cent out of the system. Do they exist? Sure. But stopping the programs because someone may get something for nothing is foolish and short-sighted. Oh, and no, I don’t agree with drug testing AT ALL. Whether I have something to hide or not. It’s like saying “Why do you care if government listens to your calls if you’re not saying anything incriminating?” Oh, I don’t know, a fundamental right to privacy, perhaps. I don’t think you abdicate that right if you fall on hard times.

Mostly, though, I believe in the middle class. The backbone of America. The group responsible for making us great. Sure the industrialists had the capital and the means to start companies but without the us, the middle, the workers, the people who pride themselves on hard work, they’d have nothing. Truly nothing. I wasn’t born into the middle class. Nope, I’m working class. I envied the middle class. I aspired to the middle class. Teachers, nurses, police, fire. People who make a difference in other’s lifes. Union people.

We need the unions. More now than ever. Why do you think they came into existence? Was it because of the safe and secure working environments of the late-1800’s and early-1900s? A greedy middle class not satisfied with the benefits of a living wage and reasonable hours? No, they grew from a need. A need that still exists.  Unions are not the reason for the mess this country is in. Try greed, corporate greed. The constant outsourcing of jobs in this country.
Now before you go off assuming I’m some starry-eyed hippie, I’m not. My husband owns his own business and has for years. I understand profit-margin and the need to have a healthy financial company for everyone to prosper. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about greed plain and simple. Not being content with a comfortable life. The relentless pursuit of luxury – no matter the cost.
We’re dying. A slow, painful, ugly death. A death that some are happily assisting with.

This turned into a longer blog post than originally intended so I am making the executive decision to turn it into a series. Up next: The Nanny-State