20 Recent Front Page

• Populism and Republicanism
• Preaching to the Choir
• And Another Thing
• Almost Last Words
• Happy Thanksgiving
• Cooking
• Eating History
• AIDS Cure Found in Dolphin Livers
• Apologies
• The Small Stuff
• Snow Job
• Bliss
• Ammo Day
• From the Closet
• Satire
• The United States of America:  The Miniseries
• Intellectual Curiosity
• Fifteen to a Boat
• Oh, Good Grief
• Strawman

Frontpage Calendar

Mrs. du Toit Weblog

This site is inactive as of November 30, 2008.

Monday, November 17, 2008

From the Closet

A few weeks back I asked for requests for final posts.  A relative responded and the topics were (generally) more personal in nature.  If a non-relative had asked me some of these questions, I might not have been willing to answer… but because it was this person, someone whom I love and adore, I’ll respond to all in a single post.

I think that George Bush will have a similar legacy to Richard Nixon--great on foreign policy (and the Bush Doctrine was visionary, even though most people were blind to understanding it), but sucked at most domestic issues.  It is not a dissimilar legacy to Winston Churchill.  In all fairness, however, I think that far too many people blame the president for things that are outside of the job description (belonging to the Congress or the states), and there were far too many disasters-waiting-to-happen that Bush inherited and could do nothing about.  The hardest thing for Bush is that fact that folks keep chanting that he had a “majority Congress” when the Filibuster rules require 60 seats.  He didn’t have a conservative majority, so even his pet projects (and one I supported immensely), such as privatization of Social Security, couldn’t get out of the starting gate.

I’m not sure what “cowboy mentality” means.  If it means someone who chases after a runaway coach, rescuing the damsel in distress, wouldn’t we want more people like that?  People say “cowboy” like it’s a bad thing.  I disagree.  It depends on what “cowboy” means to you. 

As to whether he influenced Sarah Palin, I don’t really know, nor could I comment.  I hope she goes back to Alaska and stays there.

I do not think that Bush’s presidency will be seen in the short-term as being beneficial (but would bet money that in the long term he’ll be viewed more favorably and kindly), and he’ll remain the Left’s whipping boy and the Right will blame him for whatever they can. The Left/Right absolute positions we find ourselves, evenly split nationally, came to a head with his presidency… and it will only get worse with time.

Tell us about your conversion from a Democrat to your current political standing - Define your current political standing

I was never a Democrat.  I made the mistake of voting that way, once, and won’t make that mistake again.  That period in my life was complicated and confusing and I didn’t find myself relating too much to Reagan Republicans (nor do I, to this day).  The Iran-Contra affair really pissed me off and I still feel that Ollie North should be doing time. 

It was during that time that I’d enjoy telling people that I was a communist, just to get a rise out of them, because there is nothing inherently illegal about holding those opinions.  It is acting on them, the way that communist’s traditionally do, that make the declaration of communist legal or illegal.

As for declaring what I am… well, that’s difficult.  I still don’t feel too much brotherly love among my Republican fellows.  They’d probably think of me as a RINO or something akin to a neo-con, despite having a family history of Republicans from Inception.  I’m probably closer to a Rockefeller Republican than a George Bush one, and have no time for folks who think there’s something wrong with that.  My hero was Howard Baker, who worked in the Nixon Administration.

In a nutshell, I think my political philosophy is best summed up with “practicalist.” I’m not into any sort of dogma, nor can I get too emotional or romantic about memes, and bumper sticker political philosophies.  Things aren’t that simple and while decisions on public policy can come quickly, they each need to be examined individually, with the wisdom of history as our guide. 

She was a “do as I say, not as I do” kind of person, which is why I spent seven years on the psychiatrist’s couch, trying to sort out what she said from how she behaved. There are often silver-linings to what our parents do to us, so it’s hard to give a parent an absolute thumbs-up or thumbs-down. Would I replicate all of it?  NO!  But that doesn’t mean they had no benefit to me as a person.

First of all, I loved her, and I KNOW she loved me.  What greater an accomplishment can a parent achieve than to ensure that their child is loved and loving?

She used to sing a version of the song Tammy but for me:

I hear the cottonwoods whisperin’ above,
“Connie ... Connie ... Connie’s my love”
The ole hooty-owl hooty-hoos to the dove,
“Connie ... Connie ... Connie’s my love”

But, I loved the mother of my imagination, of the person I wanted her to be, and the ones her words conveyed she was.  She also loved the person she wanted me to be, which wasn’t always similar to the person I was, and that allowed me to doubt myself, and often falter.  She spoke of honesty and integrity, but wasn’t able to live up to those ideals herself (nor am I).  She spoke of “doing the right thing” when she often did just the opposite (as do I). 

She was fairly smart and she always paid attention to what was going on in the world.  She read the newspaper and wrote to her Representatives quite frequently.  She was patriotic, too, in that Frank Capra romantic/idealistic way.  It was her passion for politics that I inherited, even if we approached the issues differently in our adult lives.  She was a wonderful barometer for my education, providing nuances of understanding when my teachers presented things in black and white (even though her tendency to be verbose could get trying… and, guilty as charged, myself).

She took me to the old world when I was just a babe.  I was 13 years old when she took me to Europe and that changed me in profound ways, and changed the direction of my life.  It was an irresponsible decision, beyond her means, and we suffered for it financially for several years after.  But would I undo it?  NOT A CHANCE and I’m afraid I inherited her philosophy on some things being more important than money, and her greatest fear and common quotation haunts me as well, “time and tide wait for no man.”

Similarly, she started taking me to the theatre when I was five years old.  We had season tickets to the Los Angeles Civic Light Opera, and I looked forward to those shows, as I looked forward to nothing else.  Our house was foreclosed on when I was 11, but to the theatre we continued that summer… and it was at the theatre that I felt like I was a princess.  That’s not a bad way for Cinderella to feel, even if only for one night.

As she was fond of saying, “they can take our car, our house, and all our possessions, but no one can ever take our memories from us.”

She had a very hard life--different from her picture.  From that, I s’pose, I learned empathy and compassion, and developed a steely-resolve in the face of catastrophe.  You couldn’t make her quit, no matter how hard you hit her.  She had to surrender by her own accord, on her terms, and with her conditions. 

I didn’t want to “end up like her” as many daughters feel about their mothers, when their lives don’t turn out the way they hoped.  Had Dad never left her, she’d have probably been elected to the school-board or some other public office.  Her public achievements were quite astonishing--always the head of whatever philanthropic organization she was associated, and received numerous lifetime achievement awards.  She was a tough act to follow.

But that wasn’t the mother I knew, as my memories of Mom were after the divorce, since I was so young when it happened.  She was really mad at Dad, and rightfully so, and her desire for justice was never sated.  She really did get the wrong end of the deal, and he was a first-class asshole. My mother, the one I knew, was the anonymous one… the lady who became fat, jaded, and depressed a lot.  She was the one who got up to go to work everyday, in a job she really hated, and did it because she had to put food on the table for us.

Being the way-youngest of 4 children, she described me as her “desert after a good dinner.” That was incredibly sweet, never referring or thinking of me as an OOPS!.

She thought of suicide a lot, but didn’t because of us and me.  That counts.  Some things are more important than ourselves, and our responsibilities more pressing than our (often) petty, individual problems.

I don’t think she wanted to be a mother, although she loved babies and loved us.  She wanted to be an actress and an artist, and encouraged us in those pursuits for her (I suspect) vicarious pleasure.  That’s not a bad thing and my experiences in that arena taught me valuable lessons for life… how to speak my mind, how to deliver lines, how to stand tall.

In some of her darker moments she would sing Rose’s Turn from Gypsy!:

I had a dream.
I dreamed it for you, June.
It wasn’t for me, Herbie.
And if it wasn’t for me
then where would you be,
Miss Gypsy Rose Lee?

Well, someone tell me, when is it my turn?
Don’t I get a dream for myself?
Starting now it’s gonna be my turn.
Gangway, world, get off of my runway!
Starting now I bat a thousand!
This time, boys, I’m taking the bows and

Everything’s coming up Rose!
Everything’s coming up roses!
Everything’s coming up roses
this time for me!
For me! For me! For me! For me! For me!
For me! Yeah!

And then she’d get over herself, and go to work the next day for a boss who treated her like dog-shit.

She lived in a fantasy world of “wanting to travel the world and write about it” but that was a vicarious pleasure she could only get from me after her death, but I thank her for it.

Mom asked that her ashes be put in a Parmesan cheese shaker and that I carry that bottle with me, spreading her around in places I travel to, that she might like.  I haven’t been able to do that yet (not quite willing to let her go), and 1/3 of her still sits in the box.  How much more glorious could someone’s view of their afterlife be than wanting to continue to travel, trusting that your daughter would know what you’d have loved to see and where you’d want to spend eternity?  That’s how much she trusted me, and how well I knew her.  I also loved the irreverence of a reverent act, which is the dichotomy of her in a nutshell.

She’d have had a blog, but would have been more upset than I when people made pithy or rude comments.

She loved my baby girl and talked to her so much that she started speaking when she was five months old… and as she had done for me, my daughter knew she was loved, adored, and so capable of setting the world on fire.

She taught all the grandchildren about humor and satire… and taught them hard lessons, too, about having to be good people and respectful of her, or she would withhold her affection, even at her death.

She was an unprincipled woman of high principles and ideals, and you couldn’t help but love her, couldn’t help but feel empathy for her, couldn’t help but allow her to drive you absolutely nuts with her inconsistencies and dramas, and can’t look back at your life with her and want it to have been any other way.

She taught me something invaluable, that has served me better than any ever lesson could:

The show must go on, baby.

And it does, and I do, Mommy.

None.  That has nothing to do (whatsoever) with its legal status, nor if it is the best choice, given the other choices/options available.

This is a difficult question, but only in explaining it.  Far too many people think of marriage as a “right” as if you have some inherent right to make society condone your actions, or approve/support your relationships.  You have no right to society’s approval, nor their support of your choices. 

Marriage is not a “right.” It is a “privilege.” That’s why, like driving, you have to get a license to do it.  You can choose to live with whomever you want (and hire a lawyer to create legal documents that declare your intentions and property), and you can make any sort of commitment or oath to another person you want.  What two men or two women cannot do is have a civil marriage.  That’s true regardless of their sexual orientation or how they were “born.” It applies equally to all, but we’re all not the same, so there is only the suggestion of some sort of “unfairness.”

If the gay marriage advocates were to get their wish, what would that look like?  Would it be correct to say that only two gay men could marry?  What about two straight men?  If the condition of birth or “born that way” was the condition for society’s approval, what litmus test or invasion in the privacy of the conscience would be required to validate the request for marriage of two straight men?

That’s Orwellian and goes beyond reasonableness, invading our Freedom of Conscience.

If we say it’s “none of our business if two straight men marry” then what IS our business?  Why do we have a license to marry at all?  Why not just scrap it entirely, and allow others to do whatever they want, calling it whatever they want, and deriving the same recognition, respect or benefits?

And then you get to the answer of why gay marriage advocates are such a strange assortment of bedfellows.  That’s the Holy Grail, the brass ring, and the slippery slope.  The foundation of a civil society is the institution of marriage, the only true allegiance we have to anyone (taken of free will), and if we treat it carelessly and casually, dismissing its importance and significance, then all we have that binds us before the eyes of society is government… and I don’t think I need to explain what happens then.

A person’s condition of birth has no bearing on anything.  If someone is “born” a psychopath, we don’t have a special “get out of jail free card” for them to escape the death penalty if they become a serial killer.  Their condition of birth, which may have pre-ordained their actions, is irrelevant to public policy decisions, and making the laws apply equally, and blindly, to all of us.

I am opposed to identity politics of any kind, but I’m keenly aware that we are often having to serve two masters:
1.  The majority’s interests
2.  Preventing the tyranny of the majority on the minority, or the one.

In this case, however tragic it might be for the few who are truly deserving of society’s respect, they’re simply out of luck.  Society’s long term interests trump.

Relate to the Iraq War?  Hmmm… Got me stumped there. 

I have a hard time with that one, because it is the same (to me) as asking “Why isn’t food free?” It seems so self-evident.  Since food doesn’t fall out of the sky, you have to pay for it. 

You have to pay for medical care, because it doesn’t fall from the sky, just as you pay for food and housing.  Risk of dying for being unable to pay is also a great motivator to get and keep a job that comes with medical benefits, just as risk of starving to death is a great motivator to get someone to work. 

I believe, strongly, that people have a right to associate with fellows of like minds, and have whatever government they want.  I have no desire to “fight” Californians, nor limit their freedom to have whatever form of government they want.  I was the odd man out, so I left.

(Greg is my dear brother, who died of HIV/AIDS in 1995.)

I don’t know, nor do I care, nor did it have any bearing on how I felt about him.  He was my rock, my Knight in Shining Armor, my best friend, my big brother (with all that means), and the kindest/smartest man I’ve ever known… until I met Kim.  And they would have been best friends.  His relationship with David was the model I used to recognize a loving relationship and how adults should treat each other. 

Greg had a terrible singing voice, but he sang anyway (another reason to love him to death).  Once, he sang this to us, and there were tears in all of our eyes when he was done:

It’s not that easy being green;
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold…
or something much more colorful like that.

It’s not easy being green.
It seems you blend in with so many other ord’nary things.
And people tend to pass you over ‘cause you’re
not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
or stars in the sky.

But green’s the color of Spring.
And green can be cool and friendly-like.
And green can be big like an ocean, or important like a mountain,
or tall like a tree.

When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why?
Wonder, I am green and it’ll do fine, it’s beautiful!
And I think it’s what I want to be.

Greg said he was always gay, and knew he was different when he was a toddler.  I have no reason to doubt his explanation about that, or any other explation he gave me for things.  Greg never lied nor had a single dishonest or illogical thought.

I don’t think everyone should travel the world, but some should.  Some folks shouldn’t leave their houses, let alone go to another country, as American Ambassadors.

If people feel out of place, perhaps out of step with their fellows, or have questions about who we are, how we got to where we are today, and where we’ll go in the future, there is nothing more satisfying to those ends than traveling.

It allows you to be humble for the things we do badly, to appreciate the things we do right, and to recognize that there isn’t always one way to do anything.  We’re not alone in the world and traveling allows you to see that, better than any other activity.

Even my bad trips were a net-gain, although I wouldn’t go back to those places again. 

My mother once told me about a study she read (and this is another example of how interesting she was as a person).  It said that folks who live in places where you can’t see far (such as cities with high-rises or country settings encircled with mountains) were dwarfed.  They’re literally emotionally challenged and it becomes a pervasive way of looking at oneself and possibilities.  They can’t think out of the box, literally and metaphorically.

That’s why it was so important for me to take my children on my travels… so they could stand on the precipice of history, from the top of a cathedral or castle, from the edge of the Alps and see a never ending horizon… and be a person who sees infinite possibilities.

We know that the earth is round so it becomes something more akin to an mobius loop, leading us always back home, to where we began… back to the womb of our mothers, back to the soil of mother earth.

And that is why we travel and others should… to take us home, to where we began, and then we return to do it another day, as soon as we can… because time and tide wait for no man.

Latest from:

American Farmer

by American Farmer

American Farmer may now be read on his own domain:
americanfarmerBLOG.com

Blogroll

Blogroll Archive (Zipped)

From the U.S. Constitution...