Category Archive:Hear Me

The years I spent in high school were fraught with all the angst a 1960’s era teen could face. There were no cell phones, no fb, no internet, no texting . . . we rode the city bus to and from school because we could not afford vehicles. Blah, blah, blah.

There were a lot of things we did NOT have – but there were a lot of things we DID have as well.

Some of the discussions in our PoD (Problems of Democracy) classes (now called social studies) centered around the government and elections and the Past – because if we did not learn from the past we were certain to repeat the past. That’s what they said.

A big item of discussion was whether or not 18 year olds should have the right to vote. Mind you, ALL US citizens had NOT always had the right to vote. The RIGHT to vote was hard sought, hard fought, and hard won.

We were separated in our idealistic world of beliefs even then. Some held that 18 year olds were too young to know or care what was going on in the US – thus could not vote with knowledge. Some held that 18 = old enough to go to VietNam (many returning in body bags) = old enough to vote for the people sending them there.

1971 saw the 26th amendment passed giving 18 year olds the right to vote. I was 21 that year. I voted in my first presidential election in the Nixon McGovern race. I’ve not missed a presidential election since – have not missed many state or local elections, either. Voting is a PRIVILEGE and a RIGHT. My foremothers could not vote because they were women. I’m thankful that I CAN vote.

You know I’m going somewhere with this, right?

Right.

It is a presidential election year (REALLY? Gosh, Moosie, we did NOT know that) /sarcasm. I asked a young person near and dear to my heart – who recently turned 18 – about voter registration. Not only is this person not registered, but there is no desire to vote in the election.

The community that does not take advantage of its rights gives those rights away.

I am becoming my grandmother. She bemoaned the generation that was mine. We proved her wrong in lots of ways. I am not bemoaning this millennial generation, but I AM hoping that they will take the reins and go forward and BE the changing force our country needs. They can do it. I have that faith.

Go – register – learn the issues – vote your conscience (not what your mother or I say) – Go and make us proud.

Love,
the Gramma

What are you looking for, Angela? Stop – stop and look at me. I’ll help you find it.

You can’t help me. Nobody can help me.

Angela rocked in the seat he’d chosen for her. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked, rocked, rocked to an inner beat.

Angela, you’re safe here. Nobody here will hurt you. We’ll help you find what you’re looking for. Can you believe that? Can you see that I am telling you the truth?

Sobs burst through her tight lips.

I’m looking for ME! I can’t stop looking or the pieces will all blow away!

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My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

Lance and LeeRoy, with the help of the newly turned 8 year old “Goose” (Happy birthday!) have chosen a Counting Crows song, Come Around, this week. These are the words I came up with . . . where are yours?

A thin girl with dreads sat in the corner of the coffee shop strumming a guitar. People nearby drinking coffee, ignore the empty hat on the floor.

The words she sang dug into their souls, try as they might to keep them out.

I would die – I would kill for you

Disturbing images – cast aside in today’s “I can’t be bothered” society.

A woman walks forward, touches the girl’s shoulder, offers her a sandwich and a ten dollar bill.

I give these to you because I believe in you.

The girl accepted the gifts. Her smile lit the room.
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The above is written for Lance and LeeRoy’s 100 wordsong challenge: #1 Crush from Garbage.

My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

He stood at the window contemplating what lay outside as he struggled with what was eating inside – eating away at his inner most self.

Wife gone – no matter, it was a green card marriage in name only.

Daughter gone – way gone on drugs and booze.

Parents gone – okay, almost gone. Aged and infirm.

And he? Being eaten up from the inside out from years of nicotine and alcohol abuse. The docs wanted to start snipping.

He slipped the 38 special over his tongue, aimed for the unseen, innermost parts – pulled the trigger.

In the end he fought back HIS way.
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Recently a friend took control of how he would leave this world. These words came from that experience. I cannot condone, but neither can I condemn. I can only grieve.

This is in response to Lance’s 100 Word Song challenge: Picture Perfect by I Hate Kate. What is your feedback from the chosen song?

I took a trip on the wayback machine today . . . found one of my first blogs – and some not so great, very bad, icky, nasty poetry I had written and posted on Lessa’s then poetry collab. Okay, some of it was NOT so bad . . . but I flinched when I read some of the pieces. I’m sure I thought they were very good then.

Funny how our thoughts change with our lives, isn’t it? Mind you, this stuff is from 2001 and 2002. Lord only would HOPE I can write a bit better nowadays.

Of course, some of what I write these days is drivel, too.

The trick is . . . to keep on writing. Never mind what the critics say – whether bad or good – never mind what your own gut says (gosh, Moosie, this is GOOD stuff!) Just keep putting it out there. Hone the craft. Work the words – let the words work you. Re-read it and toss it aside to molder for a bit – then take it out and re-read it – aloud, if you please. Get a different day’s take on it.

Maybe, just maybe, we will each find that one glimmering diamond that we have hidden inside us. When we do – SHARE it with the world.

Write on, word nerds, write on.