We are not in the same boat

I heard that we are all in the same boat, but it’s not like that. We are in the same storm, but not in the same boat. Your ship could be shipwrecked and mine might not be. Or vice versa.

For some, quarantine is optimal. A moment of reflection, of re-connection, easy in flip flops, with a cocktail or coffee. For others, this is a desperate financial & family crisis.

For some, their work life has been stressful, sad and draining both physically and emotionally. It has shown them the difficulties and horrors of this pandemic. While others feel “it’s what you signed up for”

For some that live alone they’re facing endless loneliness. While for others it is peace, rest & time with their mother, father, sons & daughters.

With the $600 weekly increase in unemployment some are bringing in more money to their households than they were working. Others are working more hours for less money due to pay cuts or loss in sales.

Some families of 4 just received $3400 from the stimulus while other families of 4 saw $0.

Some were concerned about getting a certain candy for Easter while others were concerned if there would be enough bread, milk and eggs for the weekend.

Some want to go back to work because they don’t qualify for unemployment and are running out of money. Others want to kill those who break the quarantine.

Some are home spending 2-3 hours/day helping their child with online schooling while others are spending 2-3 hours/day to educate their children on top of a 10-12 hour workday.

Some have experienced the near death of the virus, some have already lost someone from it and some are not sure if their loved ones are going to make it. Others don’t believe this is a big deal.

Some have faith in God and expect miracles during this 2020. Others say the worst is yet to come.

So, friends, we are not in the same boat. We are going through a time when our perceptions and needs are completely different.

Each of us will emerge, in our own way, from this storm. It is very important to see beyond what is seen at first glance. Not just looking, actually seeing.

We are all on different ships during this storm experiencing a very different journey. Be kind, always.

Unknown author

Choices and consequences

As a former election judge in Austin during the 2000 General Election, I can state from my own observation that voters can be stupid. It was November. It was raining and the temperature was around 48-52. My poling place was an apartment complex office/club house. We had 200 people in the space wrapped around twice. It was taking over an hour to get people through the line. I locked the door at 7pm and announced to the room that the polls were closed and anyone outside the building was not allowed to vote. We got everyone voted and out by 8pm. About 8:30 a guy who I had seen leave the place came knocking on the door. I told him the polls were closed and he couldn’t vote. He said he went to another precinct and they wouldn’t let him vote. I said I was sorry about that but each location is by precinct and the polls closed at 7pm. He got pissed and started yammering about “rights” and threatened to call my superiors the next day. I said, “That’s fine,” and he left.

Ponderings of an 8yo: Black Panther

As I think about it, I might have been 7. It was the early 70s and I had been reading a Marvel comic featuring the Black Panther. Growing up, I was one of those kids who seemed, to me at the time, to get picked on and ganged up on a bit more than others in the neighborhood, and at school. I wanted to be strong and to make all the things in my life that were a pain disappear. I couldn’t see, as a 2nd grader, that growing up and graduating from the public school machinery would do more to that end than muscles, tech, and at the time, tights.

BP was a strong character. He was a bad ass. And given the bullshit I was going through as a minor, and the fact that there really isn’t a manual to growing up, I wanted to be him.

My mother was in the den watching TV. It was a school night. I walked in and said, “Mama, I’m going to be the Black Panther when I grow up.” She looked at me, shook her head, and said, “Oh no. You’re not going to be a black panther.”

To paraphrase the immortal words of the Captain in the 1967 film Cool Hand Luke, what we had here was a “failure to communicate.” Mom was talking about the Black Panther Party, which got it’s start right around the same time the character entered the Marvel universe. Politics and war, and most of the other adult goings-on were mostly a blur to me at the time. That childhood ignorance made my mom’s reaction confusing. No one batted an eye at me wanting to be on the Enterprise bridge, fly like Superman, spin webs, or drive the Batmobile. I don’t remember questioning her. It was a little kid’s fantasy. Eventually I grew out of it. It was much later, after I learned a little bit about the party that I understood what my mom was talking about.

According to Wikipedia, the comic book character predates the founding of the party by a few months during the latter half of 1966,

Teacher ‘performance’

teacherpay

I’m don’t know which clown or clowns, and they’re all clowns…elected officials enjoy an expectation of unearned respect due simply to being in office…and it’s something I refuse to grant them. But I digress. I don’t know which representative or senator thought this up. The thinking seems to be that under such a system some teachers would be paid less than others based on results. So the intent of the meme simply says, “Okay, Mr./Ms. Congressperson, we’ll pay you on results instead of an annual salary for your position.” 
 
Instead of that, how about we cut their pay based on how many votes they cast that benefit the corporations lobbying them instead of the people? Because really, on every vote, it’s us against the numerous, and very well-resourced, lobbyists that companies and special interests assign to each member of the House and Senate.