Monday, August 31, 2015

ramble alert

Yeah, there's a lot on my mind these days and I've actually slowed down enough to take in the nuance of conversations and interaction on social media.  I was absolutely blindsided by the response to a meme that I posted which made the point ( or so i thought ) that science is often misinterpreted by those who are rigidly religious in an institutional sort of way. Even the grammar Nazi got in on that one and of course the Republican trolls. This is the double edged sword of social media.  On the one hand you know who just turned two and who is having what for dinner,  yet there's a whole 'nother world out there where people with evil intent spread untruths.  Usually there is an error in perception , as my old supervisor used to say.  He was the only guy and the BOSS of about 20 women and every time one of us cried over not getting his approval, that was his response.

To me, spirituality is not about dogma or catechism or what kind of robe you wear.  If that pleases you to praise God in that way, have at it.  I'm a UMC to the bone and can sing just about every hymn in the book.  I don't think I've seen anything more Christlike than the look on my mother's face when Joe Jennings started singing "Morning Has Broken" at Daddy's funeral.  She didn't have a clue it was going to happen.  Speaking of funerals, I have this one funeral director friend who took matters into her own hands to get to the cemetery on time.  The escort was a no-show so she stopped traffic and got the procession on the road.  The law caught up with them about a mile away.

My mother is happy and healthy and the darkness of the past 5 years is going away slowly.  Daddy is on the dresser at her new home and she's threatening to hang our senior pics over the couch but I said no.  As in HELL no.  I look much better now and we'll get a new one with a pretty frame.  I realize how fortunate I am to have inherited the history of the Stafford family and a missing ten dolla' gold coin.  It still hurts me to go back in there as the ghosts of our pasts speak quietly and mystically.  The five of us shared one bathroom and two floors in an honest to goodness log cabin.  Poor Tommy got stuck in the little closet room because well, you know.  He was the baby.  He was packed and ready to move into my room when I left for college.

I don't presume to be wise and wonderful, just inquisitive and loving and joyful unless justice is involved and then I'm full force for doing the right thing.  The racial profiling in this country has started a war that is killing not only innocents but dedicated police officers and the flames are being fanned by the media.  Consumers have an opportunity to not buy into the constant bickering and back stabbing that is made possible through connectivity.  This sort of civil unrest goes on all around the world when people get desperate to escape persecution for their beliefs.  Thank God that doesn't happen here, right?

If you believe in Zombies, raise your hand ^j^

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