Sunday, February 12, 2012

remember the good times

I go to bed so early that I totally missed the news about Whitney Houston until this morning. I was astonished to see the long winded angry responses by people who, rather than admire her talent, focused on the substance abuse thing and used it to pitch their conservative kick ass attitude toward drug use in general. Not that I'm defending anything other than what mother nature allows us to harvest "naturally", but I totally understand that the core of abuse and addiction in any situation is an underlying discomfort with self and is usually shame based. I'm channeling my inner Botwin here so bear with it.

Jerry Sandusky raped boys in the shower stall of a major university sports complex and continues to sit on his front porch "watching the kids play" at the elementary school. If he had been any other poor schmuck, he'd have been UNDER the jail way before now. I'm still sick with the thought that Josh Powell did what he did and got away with it by running away again...this time for good. I have to believe that he's in some separate dark cell while those little boys kiss their mama.

My point, I suppose, is this. Everyone has a story laced with pain and misery and the only way to get past it is to share it with somebody or more than one somebodies. I'm not real big on organized meetings as such, but they serve their purpose with those who need that and they save a lot of lives. Mostly they're court ordered repeat offenders who snarl and deny there's a problem. It is at this point, when law enforcement and courts are involved that you are at the mercy of the local political system. If you know them and they like your looks or your mama'n'daddy'n'them, it's all good. Otherwise, your best chance is to have a lawyer friend or a court appointed attorney who really cares about justice. Or both! The poor friend that I mentioned the other day had to pay her fees again, but at least the charges were dropped.

Typically late, BG took my car and debit card (OMG...gasp) and headed to Jackson to buy her bridesmaid dress for Anna and Stevie's special day. She's lost a few pounds and is looking good. Faith, on the other hand, is getting fatter by the day. Well, because. Um. She's nine years old and pregnant for the first time, by a beautiful red pit bull, no less! Oh, Lord. If there's one thing I need it's more mouths to feed. We're delighted, and will give her the space and support she needs, bless her heart. You can bet there will be pictures.

^j^

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