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MEET THE DOTARDS

Do you know what I discovered this week with great amusement?  Most of our news anchors had never heard of the word “dotard” when Kim Jong Un rocketed the word as an insult against Trump.  What was even worse is that most of them couldn’t even pronounce it.

I was screaming at the TV every time Joe Scarborough bastardized the word on Morning Joe.  Even this poor Black child, born in the ghetto, knew what “dotard” meant and how to pronounce it, but I guess that’s what happens when one has read Chaucer, Shakespeare, Agatha Christie, and J.R.R. Tolkien. (Thanks Cleveland School System; maybe you weren’t so awful after all.)

Dotard 1 Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

By the way, in case you haven’t been brought up to speed regarding Kim Jong Un’s vocabulary lesson to the English-speaking world (albeit, outdated English):

MEANING OF DOTARD ACCORDING TO MERRIAM-WEBSTER:  “a person in his or her dotage,” which is “a state or period of senile decay marked by decline of mental poise and alertness.”

PRONUNCIATION OF DOTARD: dō-tərd (as in DOE-turd)

Since the word has gone viral (#dotard), I thought I’d look around for some examples to add to the online chatter about this hilarious choice of wording from one crazy-ass dictator to his wannabe counterpart.

I didn’t have too far to look.

I have retired to a town that is a haven for retirees.  It is a lovely town—extremely bucolic—with a world-class university, lots of educational and social opportunities, wonderful restaurants, and easy access to major metropolitan areas to partake in wonderful theater and museum events.  But for all its positive aspects, I have found a place where the dotards go to hang out.  It is the back page of the local newspaper (the only part of the local paper that I read because the rest is too boring for words), and they use it as if it were a communal Twitter and/or Facebook page.  One can call, fax, or email the editor of this newspaper and all the dotards are allowed to remain anonymous, which I think emboldens them.  Each message has its own stand-alone title.  I thought I’d feature a few of the more dotard-like examples to show my readers that dotards are alive and well—probably someone in your family, even—or at least a Trump voter who is mad as hell at everything and everybody.  I daresay, if any one of these dotards had access to a nuclear bomb, my lovely retirement town would have gone up in smoke a long time ago.

old man yells at cloud

GET OFF MY LAWN BACK PAGE

(From the Retirement Mecca Gazette)

Name of newspaper and its back page have been changed to protect me from becoming one of the local dotard’s anonymous attacks

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WHEELIE TERRORS

Well, I see another day that the roads are all screwed up…for a damn bicycle race.  It never ceases to amaze me how something that pays no taxes to use the road can screw it up for people who do pay taxes.  I can’t even go to the grocery store without encountering a two-wheeler.  If God wanted us to ride bicycles, he wouldn’t have given us cars.   Down with bicycles, I say!  Up with tax-payin’ diesel mobiles!

DAMN YOU RAIN GET OFF MY LAWN

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YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE

Read your article about car thefts on the rise.  Couldn’t help but notice that many of the cars stolen didn’t have their doors locked.  If you leave your car doors unlocked, what do you expect to happen?  There is a fool born every minute is all I have to say. 

YOUNG WHIPPER-SNAPPER

To the young woman who passed me on the road the other day, I couldn’t help but notice that you had two little kids in the back seat observing you breaking the law.  Now it is true that I was traveling below the speed limit (when I make a mistake, I own it), but that was no reason for you to pass me and give me what looked like “the finger” (although, I’m not quite sure it was your finger because I didn’t have on my glasses which is why I was driving so slow).  Do you hug your mother with that hand?  Shame on you…and to think your children saw you do that.  You owe me an apology, young lady!

RAZZLE-DAZZLE

Orange is my favorite color, but not on accent panels on the design of buildings for the rebuilt/redesigned shopping center, let alone red and yellow, too.  Why not some blues and greens?  Planning commission wants “edgy.”  What’s next?  Digital signs on our main road?  Who bamboozled the city planners into this?  I bet you it was that pesky Obama.  He’s out of the White House (thank God!), but still causing problems…roaming to and fro seeking whom he can devour with his foreign communist ways.  I heard on Fox News that he pops up all over the place, and the next thing you know, Confederate statues are being removed and towns are tryin’ to go all “edgy” in their color schemes.  He’d be the one to push red and yellow colors on our historical town just to get back at President Trump.  I’ll be keeping a close eye on this—you bet your sweet biffy.

Grumpy Old Woman

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DREAMERS

Last week, the Retirement Mecca Gazette ran an article that stated 23 college students at our very fine upstanding university are part of the 800,000 protected by the executive order President Obama signed in 2010. These so-called “dreamers” were given short-term protection…What’s puzzling to me is that 23 legal citizens were denied entry into the college because our state college chose illegals over my granddaughter.  Are illegal immigrants a protected minority class in the USA?  If so, are they more protected than struggling Black families?

DREAMERS CONTINUED

I’ve got one thing to say to the so-called “dreamers”:  Get out of my country.  Go back to Africa with the man who brung you—your savior, Barack Hussein Obama!  Worst president ever!  Good thing President Trump is going to make America great again and kick you out.  President Trump—best president ever!

DACA John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: John Cole, The Scranton Times Tribune

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ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA” MOMENT) REGARDING THE WORD “DOTARD”

I am discovering that dotards are everywhere, because being a dotard is a state of mind.  They are in our families, our churches, our communities, and our government.   A dotard is anyone who is afraid of change, intransigent in thought, and hard of heart when it comes to his or her fellowman.  Dotards have to be right even when the entire world knows they are wrong because to admit they are incorrect would involve a streak of humility that no dotard possesses.  All dotards fear things getting out of control (people moving too fast, ideas changing too quickly, the status quo vanishing before their eyes).  The most recent dotards have popped up on the Right-Wing Christian horizon proclaiming that the Rapture will start on Saturday, September 23rd because God is judging America for its wicked ways.  That’s the day when God will “snatch” all the Christians (all dotards) up to heaven and leave the rest of us sinners on Earth to be tormented by the likes of Kim Jong Un, the winds, the rains, and the earthquakes until Jesus comes back and sends us all to Hell.

They haven’t mentioned whether Trump will be one of the snatched.

Personally, I’ll take my chances with God as to the state of my soul, but I sure would like to see all the Christian dotards (and Trump) vanish on September 23rd.  I need some peace.

End is Nigh Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

Dotard Trump

WANT TO READ MORE OF THE AUTHOR’S WORK?  CHECK OUT HER LATEST BOOK:  “THE FETUS CHRONICLES: PODCASTS FROM MY MISEDUCATED SELF” ON SALE NOW AT AMAZON!

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR? CHECK OUT HER WEBSITE: www.eleanortomczyk.com

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ADDITIONAL READING

http://www.cnn.com/2017/09/22/asia/north-korea-dotard/index.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2017/09/21/a-short-history-of-the-word-dotard-which-north-korea-called-trump/?nid

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/21/world/asia/kim-trump-rocketman-dotard.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=first-column-region&region=top-news&WT.nav=top-news

http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/the-world-is-going-to-end-%e2%80%94-just-probably-not-saturday/ar-AAskITR?li=BBnbfcL&ocid=UE13DHP

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on September 23, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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GOD IN THE DARK

Recently, a self-described “heathen” asked me, a self-described “God-fearing woman” (her words—not mine) what hope could I offer her in response to the overwhelming anguish and despair she felt in the midst of all the racial, political, and natural disasters that have recently descended upon Americans as to why God was allowing all this devastation.

Dreamers David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

 

Did I agree with the loud-mouthed, ignorant Christians who were proclaiming the hurricanes to be the wrath of God against a nation that allowed homosexuality and abortions to exist?

 

Gods Wrath Larry Wright CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Larry Wright, CagleCartoons.com

 

She said: “If all the mayhem is God’s ‘wrath,’ as your Christian peeps would try and lead me to believe, then why is he punishing the innocents by drowning or displacing them while patently evil characters of our world seem to run amok freely and God seemingly looks the other way?”

 

Evil Others Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star Tribune

 

I told her that she was asking the wrong questions.

 

Hurrican Treaty Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

 

There is only one question that brings any comfort and perspective in the midst of a storm—man-made or nature-born:  “Where is God in all this pain and devastation?”  I am not in the path of a hurricane today and agents of racial hatred are not burning crosses on my lawn at this moment, but in my lifetime of almost seventy years as an African-American, I have been almost consumed by so many relentless personal storms that, in the heart of them, my anger against God was palpable and almost Job-like. 

 

God Fearing Religion John Darkow PoliticalCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission:  John Darkow, PoliticalCartoons.com

 

But as I told my heathen friend, God always showed up for me in the dark through the love, grace, heroism, comfort, helping hands, and mercy of human beings—and sometimes angels.  Many times I had no idea that they represented the presence of God to me when it was happening.  It was only in looking back all through my copious personal storms that I saw God in my darkest hours, and finding God in the dark has always obliterated the so-called prophets of doom, as well as strengthened my faith and trust in a higher power.  I agree with the wonderful Mr. Rogers when he asked his mother how to deal with the awfulness of tragedy, and she said:  “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” 

Mr. Rogers

 

…and I would add, look for God in the midst of the helpers…I’ve always found him to be there, not only in my life but in the storms we are facing today as a nation.

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WANT TO READ MORE OF THE AUTHOR’S WORK?  CHECK OUT HER LATEST BOOK:  “THE FETUS CHRONICLES: PODCASTS FROM MY MISEDUCATED SELF” ON SALE NOW AT AMAZON!

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR? CHECK OUT HER WEBSITE: www.eleanortomczyk.com

***

ADDITIONAL READING ON WHO TO BLAME FOR ALL OUR PAIN

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2017/09/10/theres-no-one-else-you-can-point-to-how-disasters-elicit-talk-of-gods-wrath-and-end-times/

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on September 10, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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ONE FAMILY IN GOD’S EYES

Do you know what I discovered this week?  Charlottesville and Houston had similar “aha” moments for me.  I’ve basically been sitting in sackcloth and ashes for several weeks—unable to pray to God or write a blog—ever since the hate-filled murderous march of the KKK/Neo Nazis/Alt-right in Charlottesville.  Back when I was a child, they wore hoods to hide their faces—now they are unashamed to commit murder with open faces and lit torches to illuminate their visceral hate.  I have been numb ever since—barely able to breathe and scared stiff for every Jew, African-American, Latino, and anyone with the slightest melanin in their skin.  Worried sick that this hatred would wash up on the shores of my children and grandson’s lives.

At first I just put on a shapeless, itchy, sackcloth dress (think burlap coffee sack) while still wearing full diva makeup to signify my mournful state, but when Trump refused to issue a full-throated rebuke to the KKK/Neo-Nazis/Alt-right demons who proclaimed their racist hatred in his name, I stripped my face of makeup and smeared my body with ashes like the old biblical characters.  I also expected to hear a loud thunderous rebuke from the Christians who support Trump about his lackluster rebuke of our domestic terrorists, but all I heard were crickets.  White Christians I once knew who once upon a time said they loved me “in the Lord” were now justifying the actions of the White Supremacists on their Facebook pages.  I was so hurt that I sat down on the ground and proceeded to engage in an African death ritual.  In the dust I mourned the passing of truth, the manifestation of the love of Jesus, as well as my naïve concept of our national unity.

Trump and his many sides rebuke Daryl Cagle CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Daryl Cagle, CagleCartoons.com

Then Hurricane Harvey struck, and I really started crying.  Not just crying, but sobbing—that ugly hysterical kind of crying, which turns you into a Tammy Faye Bakker replica.  I cried because I couldn’t see God anywhere in all this horrible devastation.

But on the third day, I noticed something that gave me hope that he might be on the move:  American men and women of all stripes risking their lives to save people of all stripes and not one of them asked if the other were something they weren’t or didn’t like.  Christians rescuing non-Christians, straight rescuing gay, immigrant rescuing life-long Texans, Blacks rescuing Whites, and vice versa.  They all were elated to help and be helped.   It was then that I got up out of the ashes, and started writing letters of observation to God because it looked as if he had showed up in the storm.

National Uniy Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

DEAR JESUS:

It’s me—Eleanor.  You know, the one who is constantly nagging you day and night about the sorry state of our human affairs.

I’ve been wondering where you’ve been.  The scientists are saying this situation in Texas is a 1,000-year flood event unprecedented in scale, and places in and around Texas may never recover.

You’ve been awful quiet of late.  Were you dealing with the severe flooding in Asia which I hear has caused a couple thousand deaths, and there may be more to come in the monsoon season?  Or were you preoccupied with the despair in Africa over the severe famine that may starve out 20 million souls before all is said and done?  Oh, I almost forgot about Syria—maybe you were there.   I feel kind of wretched having barely noticed those other tragedies, but when it comes to my own country, I can’t sleep over the devastation in Texas.  I know I should be more global thinking and feeling, but these are my countrymen and women, and it is in the country where I live.  Right now the devastation in Texas is breaking my heart.  The police don’t know how many still haven’t been rescued and the poor (who always seem to bear the brunt of these disasters) may not be able to recover—ever.  Please help, please save, please deliver, and please restore my sisters and brothers—my human family—in Texas!

Houston Flood Bob Englehart CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Bob Englehart, CagleCartoons.com

DEAR JESUS:

It’s me again.  I’m sitting here scratching my allergic reaction to my burlap bag and wondering why you allow so much suffering to happen to us.  I know that humans have been asking their gods this since the evolution of man, and it has always remained a very squishy topic and a mystery.  It would be a lot simpler if you sat down for an interview on CNN or with the NY Times and did a Q&A on the subject.  You could start out by making yourself visible (not being able to see you creates more problems than you can possibly imagine) and letting us know that you are more than our pathetic miniature concepts of you as a god.  Maybe we could withstand the trauma of the journey better if we understood the “why” of the destination.  There are a lot of precious people in Texas who are never going to be able to put their lives back together again.  The rich might be able to, but the poor won’t.

Before I fled Oz (the Christian Church), I used to glibly look at disasters like Texas and equate it to your will—your judgment for some sin that had gotten on your nerves—as if you were a petulant Greek god.  (I’m sure you’re appalled to hear that attributed to your character, just as I am horrified to admit it.)   Let’s just say I had been taught about the essence of your character by some very ignorant people, which is why I no longer attend church.  At least I’m “woke” now.  Now I know you are a God of love and spewing destruction is not in your wheelhouse.

But do you know what will probably make you vomit?  When Hurricane Sandy hit the New York area, Christian leaders like Dobson, Robertson, Franklyn Graham (and many Texan Mega-Church Christians) blamed it on your wrath for the liberal ways of those “northern elites” who supported abortion and gay marriage.  Two Texas (born-again Christians) Republicans tried to block relief and recovery aid to New York and New Jersey.  When Hurricane Katrina practically wiped out New Orleans, those same folks blamed the gay and lesbian communities.  Houston has at least 37 mega churches and 53,525 Christian adherents per every 100,000 persons.  Yet, I haven’t heard one Christian conservative call Hurricane Harvey—the worst disaster in American history—an act of God’s will because of some perceived sin(s) committed by the Texans.  Isn’t that ironic?

People of Houston David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Cartoon used by permission: David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

DEAR JESUS:

Okay, I did find an egregious sin in Houston that warrants your immediate smack down.  There’s this dude who claims to know you and speak for you.  His name is Joel Osteen.  He has a church of 43,500 attendees and a facility so huge that you could show up one Sunday in all your glory surrounded by 10,000 twelve-foot angels, and no one would ever notice you were there—that is, if you ever deigned to set foot in the place.  His church is the biggest in Houston.  Osteen is reportedly worth $40 million and lives in a $10 million mansion in Houston’s River Oaks neighborhood, and all of it gotten by trying to sell access to a prosperous life via you.  (Is this bringing up shades of you ridding the temple of the money lenders back in the day?)

Anyway, I’m writing to squeal on Osteen’s behind.  While furniture stores were opening up their businesses to house refugees, sporting goods stores were housing entire emergency rescue teams, and ordinary people were taking in strangers in their homes, this dude shuttered his church (your so-called house) doors.  Twenty-five mosques opened their doors immediately upon the onset of the storm to become centers of refuge for their fellow citizens—regardless of religion. Meanwhile, down in the flooded streets of Houston, people were using whatever would float to rescue others, and I even saw a couple guys wearing hats with the NWA logo (“Niggas with Attitudes”) carrying a little ol’ White lady through the flood water to safety.

Now Osteen says he didn’t really close the church (there is a video that shows otherwise). His church is open now, but only because Twitter went all, “Hell to the no, Joel Osteen–you should have been the first in line to rescue your fellow Houstonians after all the money you’ve soaked them for.”   HOWEVER, he later contradicted himself and said he didn’t initially open his church because he was never asked to open it as a rescue center.  (FYI—none of the thousands of volunteers who showed up were asked, they were simply being human.)

May I suggest you talk to your boy, Lord Jesus, and get him to straighten up and fly right. Cause if you don’t, Houston is getting ready to open up a can of whup ass on him for being so “un-Christlike.”  While you’re at it, would you mind schooling Osteen on the fact that the “prosperity doctrine” he pushes in your name (God will make Christians rich if they give at least 10% of their money to people like him so he can have a house the size of a hotel and a private jet) is pretty obscene, and it has nothing to do with you?  Osteen and all the rest of that prosperity gospel gang (most of whom are ardent supporters of Donald Trump) are really giving you a bad rep.  By the time they are finished, you won’t be able to pay people to become Christians.  Just looking out for your reputation.  Love and Kisses, Eleanor

Joel Olstein Meme

Joel Osteen, Christian Empathy Award Winner of the Year

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ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA”) REGARDING GOD IN THE MIDST OF PAIN

I am discovering that the spirit of Christ is always in our midst no matter how dark the night or how deep the pain—if we choose to acknowledge that presence.  If there is anything good, or lovely, selfless or kind, there Jesus is. That’s what I got woke to years ago, and I hope and pray that if I am ever caught up in a disaster such as the one in Houston, or Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, or September 11th, that I’ll be one of the people God can count on to administer his love, his grace, his mercy, and his comfort to those around me regardless of who they are and without hesitation.

Melania had right idea RJ Matson CagleCartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: RJ Matson, CagleCartoons.com

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES

 “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”John 15:13

“Nature is value-free. It can’t tell the role between the deserving and the undeserving. God’s role is not to decide where the hurricane goes and how severe it is. God’s role is to motivate people to help neighbors and improve methods to predict hurricanes. God is found not in the problem, but in the resilience.”Rabbi Kushner, author of “When Bad Things Happen to Good People”

“You, me, and the citizens of this country carry a special burden in 2017. We have to do what our president has not. We have to uphold America’s values. We have to do what he will not.”Vice President, Joe Biden

***

WANT TO READ MORE OF THE AUTHOR’S WORK?  CHECK OUT HER LATEST BOOK:  “THE FETUS CHRONICLES: PODCASTS FROM MY MISEDUCATED SELF” ON SALE NOW AT AMAZON!

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR? CHECK OUT HER WEBSITE: www.eleanortomczyk.com

*** 

REFERENCES

http://www.thedailybeast.com/joel-osteens-prosperity-gospel-made-him-houstons-hurricane-pariah 

http://www.cnn.com/2017/08/29/opinions/joel-osteen-hypocrisy-harvey-filipovic-opinion/index.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/joel-osteen-lakewood-church-houston-harvey_us_59a6ac7fe4b084581a148cef?ncid=inblnkushpmg00000009

http://www.salon.com/2017/08/30/religious-leaders-like-joel-osteen-are-a-big-reason-why-americans-are-dumping-religion/

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
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Posted by on September 1, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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RECLAIMING MY TIME

Do you know what I discovered this week?  #1.  Trump is here to stay for a very, very, very long time (no matter how much I try and wish him away)—he ain’t never gonna change, and his supporters’ support for him ain’t never gonna change.  #2.  Trump does and will occupy our media cycles 24/7 until he leaves office, probably through 2024.  #3. No matter how much I try to remain vigilant against what columnist Ruth Marcus calls this “one-man assailant against the rule of law,” I still can’t get through to the people I know who are supporting Trump, because they think I’m—at best—a purveyor of “fake news”—at worst—a spawn of the anti-Christ.

I sure do miss President Obama because you really don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.

Missing Obama sign seen in DC

Recent sign pasted to street post in Washington, DC

Everyday there is some stupidity visited upon us by “President” Trump, and as I spend hours upon hours trying to decipher what this all means in the scheme of things—the end of the world as we know it—I am made painfully aware that his reign could outlast my life, and then what good would all that worry and fretting get me except an early admittance ticket to the grave.

This was brought to my attention by my ophthalmologist just the other day.  I am 69 years old and have to get my eyes checked every six months to see if I have glaucoma (an inevitable rite of passage for someone with African/Cherokee Indian heritage roller blading through old age).   Apropos to nothing, my sanguine 45 year old eye doctor started spewing his views about aging.

DOC:   You know, I don’t want to live past 75.

ME:  Oh, why not?

DOC:  Because nothing good really happens to your body after 75—like nothing good happens after midnight, so you might as well leave the club, go home, and get some sleep.  Most of my patients are 65 and older.  The ones up to 75 seem to be treading the water of life very well, but the ones between 75 – 80 start disintegrating on all sorts of levels.  They wake up one day and suddenly they need a hip replacement here, a knee replacement there, or a quadruple bi-pass here, maybe a prostrate extraction there, a cataract surgery here or macular degeneration therapy there, not to forget a touch of dementia here or full-blown Alzheimer’s there . . .  It is not a pretty sight.  Generally, my patients tell me that by the time a person turns 85—95, their best friends are usually their doctors because they are the people the octogenarians/nonagenarians see on a regular basis, since most of their social connections are usually dead by the time they are in their late eighties.  Obviously, there are exceptions to the rule, given one’s DNA and all.

ME:  You know I’m 69 right, and you’re telling me this scary shit?  You don’t know my life.

DOC:  How long did your mother live?

ME:  Mom died at 70 and her sister died at 75.  So what are you saying to me?

DOC:  Hum . . .  I’m not a fortune teller, but if I were you, I wouldn’t waste your life because it is probably going to be shorter than you think.

Shakespeare Wasted time

By the time I left the eye doctor’s (eyes so dilated from five different drops in my pupils I could barely drive home), I felt like I had been in an underwater episode of Scrooge with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come as my spirit guide of things yet to behold.  It really made me think:  If it is true that I probably have only six good, strong years ahead of me before body parts go spinning off in different directions like the wheels of a poorly made go-cart (I’ve already lost a uterus), I better start changing my ways—no more wasting time.

So I started making a list of things that are time sucks in my everyday routine:

#1.  Scary news about Donald Trump 24/7

#2.  Abscessing about scary news about Donald Trump 24/7

#3. . . .

Just as I was about to type in my third example of a Trump time suck, my cable system imploded.  I promptly got on the phone, waited 20 minutes for someone to answer at my local cable company, told them my problem (“My internet is down for the 20th time since the beginning of the new year when one of your incompetent installers didn’t put in the most up-to-date modem”), at which the operator on the other end promptly replied:  “Yeah, he was an independent contractor—not one of our ‘real employees.’  You’re going to need our new super-duper, panoramic WiFi system which is guaranteed to solve all of your internet needs.  A ‘real’ technician is scheduled to arrive sometime between 8:00 – 10:00 a.m.  If the tech doesn’t arrive within that time frame, we will reimburse you $20.00.”

Waiting for Cable Man

My local cable company arrived thirty minutes late.  “J,” originally from Barbados, was very nice and fed me the script that I learned must be part of the cable company handbook:  “I will definitely get everything running—not going to leave before I do.”  After two hours, “J” had installed a new fancy-dancy WiFi system and made sure I understood that when I got the survey about his work performance that I gave him all “10’s” because anything less was considered a failing grade in the company.

When husband returned that night, he discovered that his computer could no longer receive WiFi, both TVs could no longer access Netflix, and, although the company would send us a technician the next day (between 10:00 – 12:00), we could not get our $20.00 late-show fee because we needed to phone it in at a certain time which happened to NOT be the time we were phoning it in.

The next day, the technician “R” from Mexico arrived 30 minutes late.  I could speak better Spanish than he could speak English, AND I CAN’T SPEAK SPANISH!  He could say the prerequisite:  “I will definitely get eberything runnin’—not goinna leave befo’ I do,” but little else.  It was his first day on the job.  After much hemming and hawing, he announced:

“Oder tech not do good job.  Ju need (how ju say it?) a stender and two new ebrything.”

“Is that going to cost me any more money?  I’m already paying extra for upgraded Wifi.”

“Asck billin’—I jes tech.”

Tech stayed all day, then finally fled five hours later in complete frustration, promising to return with his supervisor to finish the job, but had to get to next jobs or he’d get fired for not completing his tech log that day.   I skipped three errands, cancelled one appointment, researched nothin for my next book, never meditated, and almost blew a gasket from frustration.

The cable tech never returned.

Somewhere between the entry into Cable Company Hell and the fourth level of Dante’s Inferno, a cheery customer service person called:

Good afternoon, Mrs. Tomczyk.  This is your local cable company calling to see how our service was today.  Did everything get completed to your satisfaction?  You know, service is our game, and excellence is our aim!”

“ARE YOU SHITTIN’ ME!?!”

Cable Company Screwng Me

Husband returned home that evening expecting everything to be in tip-top shape and made the mistake of asking me how my day had gone.  I assaulted him with a stream of dragon fire, turned the cable company files over to him, and before abdicating my position as Internet Project Manager, I informed him that “R’s” manager (“M”) would arrive between 6:00 – 8:00 that night to fix the debacle his “first-day-on-the-job-non-English-speaking-employee” had left behind.

Sometime during dinner, “M” from Virginia by way of Morocco showed up and Hubbie and I threw up our agitated, frustrated word salad all over him which basically came down to the meaning of four words:  “FIX IT, CABLE DUDE!”

“Absolutely, Mr. and Mrs. Tomczyk.  I am the supervisor of 15 techs.  If I can’t fix it, no one can.  I will definitely get everything up and running—not going to leave before I do!”

Two hours later and two cold dinners left uneaten, after “M” extracted a promise that we’d give him all “10s” because “anything less is a failing grade,” he left the scene of the crime.  Ten minutes after he’d gone, I discovered that the phones (land lines), which run through the cable system, didn’t work.   After staying on hold for thirty minutes (thank God for cell phones), Hubbie was told by the cable company, not to worry about our phones, it was an outage in the area (not our specific problem) that would be corrected by them in a couple hours.

They lied.  None of our neighbors’ phones were dead.  Only ours.  AAUUUGH!

Dead Cable Guy

The next day, “A” from Russia, by way of California arrived and said that all the rest of the techs had screwed up the repair job.  He was a senior technician and announced that the cable company should never have sent a novice employee—the job was extremely complicated.  The entire system was not getting enough signal, parts that had been added had to be removed, and parts that should have been included were added.  Hours later and several drilled holes into my newly painted house siding previously not there, the Russian tech left after pleading that we’d give him all 10s because anything less would mean a failing job.  He then added:

“The survey’s first question will be what you think about my cable company.  Although you’ll be tempted to give them a zero rating after the experience you’ve had over the past several days, PLEASE, PLEASE give them a 10, because even though I wasn’t the tech that caused your previous problems, they will give me a failing mark for not convincing you to give the company a stellar grade.”

Two hours after the tech left, I noticed my back-up laptop couldn’t receive a wireless signal.

Recalling all the previous machinations I’d observed from each of the cable techs over the last several days and unwilling to waste any more of my precious time, I fixed it myself!

Cable company laughs

ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA” MOMENT) ABOUT WASTING TIME

I am discovering that I have a new heroine:  Maxine Waters, The International Finance System Committee’s ranking Democrat.  She’s Black, she’s old (78), and she suffers no fools.  Recently when Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin was testifying before the committee about why he had not responded to a letter from her regarding Trump’s financial ties to Russia, he tried to “play” her and not answer her questions by slathering her with platitudes and compliments, apparently trying to run out the clock since each committee member only gets a strict amount of time for questions.  Girlfriend was having none of that bullshit.  She kept repeating— ad nauseam —“reclaiming my time, reclaiming, my time, reclaiming my time . . .” Auntie Maxine Waters kept repeating her declarative statement until the committee chairman silenced Mnuchin.

Maxine Waters Reclaiming My Time

Congresswoman, Maxine Waters “Reclaiming her time!”

I am reclaiming my time from all things that are wasting it—especially from things that I can’t control.  I have become a slave to the 24/7 news updates as I comb the Internet for any indication that Trump is going down in flames and that his supporters finally “got woke,” as the kids say, and are abandoning him—relieving us from this national nightmare that this cartoon of a President has thrust upon us.  I realized the other day that none of this may happen anytime soon—if ever.  I have no doubt that Trump will go down in history as the worst president we’ve ever had, but even when his supporters are completely scandalized and demoralized by him, the majority of them will never admit they were wrong because their identity is so tied up in his success.   In the meantime, my life is rapidly moving toward the exit door.

I will continue to pray and fight the good fight, BUT, I have put reading, viewing, and listening to the news on appointment:  a couple hours in the a.m. while I exercise and then shutdown.  No responding to pinging news updates on my phone or bedtime news updates that rob me of my sleep.

As to my local cable company’s time sucking enterprise, the next time my Internet implodes, I’ll go sit in one of the bucolic areas of my house or deck and read a wonderful book—knowing that my local cable company is incompetent and will be here for days, so I might as well chill and reclaim the time by improving my mind.

Wasting Time I

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES ABOUT WASTING TIME

“If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be the greatest prodigality.”—Benjamin Franklin

“There’s no good way to waste your time. Wasting time is just wasting time.”—Helen Mirren

“I’m not a big sleeper. It just feels like wasting time. If I wake up, and it’s after 5 A.M., I stay up.”—Margherita Missoni

“Ditto, Margherita Missoni!”—Eleanor Tomczyk

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THE AUTHOR’S LATEST BOOK:  “The Fetus Chronicles:  Podcasts From my Miseducated Fetus Self” is on sale now at Amazon!

THE AUTHOR’S LATEST MAINSTREAM ARTICLES:

“What Humans Need to Know Before Being Born”

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

***
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 
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Posted by on August 6, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

Do you know what I discovered this week that drove me to take up meditation? 

Donald Trump, Jr. did something nasty with the Russians and he’s lying through his teeth about it

The John Birch Society (that racist, uber-conservative, far-right group of old) is on the rise again

Trump threatening to harm millions out of pure spite by sabotaging healthcare markets

The 81% of White Evangelicals who voted for Trump say he’s the Chosen One

Game of Thrones is back—winter is here, and the war is coming

Game of Thrones

Fan made Game of Throne Posters/www.ablogofthrones.com

I’m a HUGE “Game of Thrones” fan!  Not that I can keep all the names of the characters straight, but I do know who the bad guys are versus the good guys.  I also know that the characters in the show specialize in betrayal, lying, cruelty, corruption, arrogance, intimidation, and violence.  Kind of like our 45th president and his cronies—especially “Putty” the Vlad Putin.

While I was watching the first episode of the 7th Season of GOT, it increasingly dawned on me that we Americans are living in our own “game of thrones.”  81% of White Evangelical Right-Wing Christians voted for Trump, are not swayed by any of his misdoings (they think the negative stories about him are fake news), and they make up a solid core of the 36% that will stick with Trump even if he does shoot someone in the middle of 5th Avenue as he once promised.  When I heard those stats, I knew eternal winter had come to America.

Trump's base Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Cartoon used by permission: Rick McKee, The August Chronicle

Since the election, I’ve been holding out in hope for courageous men and women to stand up against our “game of thrones” leader and expose the emperor with no clothes.  But when I obtained solid confirmation that the family values voters planned to stick with Trump until the bitter end because they believe he was “raised up by God to be the 45th president,” I knew that the long proclaimed culture war was coming, and much as I suspect will happen in Game of Thrones, it will be long and brutal, and there will be no happy ending.

After a bunch of very clueless ministers encircled Trump last week, and prayed for him with the “laying on of hands” (Greek: cheirotonia – χειροτονία, literally, “laying-on of hands” is both a symbolic and formal method of invoking the Holy Spirit primarily during baptisms and confirmations, healing services, blessings, and ordination of priests, ministers, elders, deacons, and other church officers, along with a variety of other church sacraments and holy ceremonies—Wikipedia), I knew I was either going to become a drug addict and stay stoned for the rest of my life just to keep from going insane, or I was going to have to figure out a non-narcotic type of sedation no matter what happens to my beloved America.

So I took up meditation.

Green Tea Truth Theory

Thus far it has been a struggle.  I practice my breathing, I’ve got my mantra (“save us from DT, deliver us from DT, oh God, OMMMMM-MM-MMM…”), I can even get one of my fat-assed thighs into a half lotus position for five minutes until the leg falls completely asleep and I fall over onto my right side.

I used to watch the news as soon as I woke up (Morning Joe)—usually around 6:00 a.m.—and by 8:00 a.m. I would be so agitated and depressed that I could barely function.  The day I realized that the poison of Trump and family was going to go on for a very, very long time—possibly with irreparable damage, like the march of the hordes of the undead in Game of Thrones that was the moment I knew I had to do something to save my sanity.  For the last three days, I’ve been going onto the deck and doing my meditative exercises, and they seemed to be calming me down and giving me a more peaceful day until… my mind started messing with me.  Like this morning… when Angelica and Deviloneous showed up.

Simpson Devil and Angel on Shoulder meme

Homer Simpson Meme, Devil vs Angel

ANGELICA:  That’s my girl, you can hold that pose… easy, steady—now breathe! Start your mantra…

DEVILONEOUS:   Damn, Girl, ain’t your ass on fire, right about now?  You know you’re too old for this shit.  You’d be better off gettin’ a cup of coffee and eatin’ that leftover apple turnover in the fridge.

ME:   Saveusfromdonaldtrump,ohgod,deliverusfromdonaldtrump,ohgod,OMMMMMMMMM…

DEVILONEOUS:   Morning Joe is on now, Cutie.  Ain’t you jes a bit curious ‘bout what’s goin’ down out there in the real world?  I mean how can you get through the day unless you know what stupidity 45 is up to?  What if he does somethin’ really bad, and you’re not there to see it unfold on the TV?  How you gonna take control?

ANGELICA:  Stop it, Dev.  You know, she’s only human and this mess is out of her control.  Best she can do is “self-manage” and pray.  God has to fix this mess.

DEVILONEOUS:  Oh really, so where is yo’ God? Pray? Pray what?  From where I’m perched looks like everybody is chatterin’ at God.  You got yo’ folks like chubby-ass here prayin’ for God to deliver America from Trump’s evil, then you have Trump’s Christian supporters prayin’ he will destroy people like her because he’s like Neo—The One!  The GOP and the Conservative Evangelicals love 45!  They just adore his chubbie ass.

Emperor no clothes II Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star Tribune

ANGELICA:   Devi, I hate to be rude, but you need to shut your trap.

DEVILONEOUS:  Psst… hey ET, you know what I heard on the news last night while you were tossin’ and turnin’ in yo’ sleep?  The Trump administration is already underminin’ the healthcare market so that Obamacare will fail and leave millions without insurance.  They pulled help from 18 cities that had set up computer centers in libraries, businesses, and strip malls to help people sign up for insurance who don’t have access to the internet.  That should kill off an easy million or two bottom feeders thinkin’ they deserve to have medical care just ‘cause they alive.

ANGELICA:  Devi, I swear to God, I am going to smack you up side your head.  You need to leave her in peace.  Let her be.

DEVILONEOUS:  Seriously?  Why?  She needs to know that the political party she used to belong to—inspired by the Right-wing Christian churches—are 100% behind this Prez repealin’ Obamacare which will leave 32 million people without insurance.  I love death by mass destruction, don’t you?  Remember the bubonic plague?  That outta worry her to death.

ANGELICA:  ET, don’t listen to him.  Devi, how does losing her mind help save 32 million people from losing insurance?  She has a family to stay healthy for and a few good years of life to enjoy.  She needs to remain calm.  Leave her alone, Devi!

ME:  SaveusohGod,deliverusohGod…OMMMM—MMMMM.

The Death Dealer Milt Priggee www miltpriggee com

Cartoon used by permission: Milt Priggee, http://www.miltpriggee.com

DEVILONEOUS:  Okay, okay, okay.  I’ll leave after I tell her this one last news tidbit.  Hey, ET, yo’ peeps…

ANGELICA:  Her former peeps…

DEVILONEOUS:  Yo’ former peeps, are never, ever gonna see the light about Trump. You know why?  They believe that he is a modern-day King Cyrus—Cyrus the Great (c. 600 or 576 – 530 BC).  You know, the dude from the Old Testament of the Bible who supposedly freed the Jews from the Babylonians and restored their Jewish kingdom by letting them rebuild Jerusalem.  You see, those peeps that you used to break bread with take the Bible “literally,” and they believe that Donald J. Trump is Cyrus the Great incarnated.  Ain’t that somethin’?  Angels and demons alike are crackin’ up ova this latest Christian stupidity.

ANGELICA:  Our girl does not believe that nonsense, and you know it.  She takes the Bible “seriously,” but not “literally.”  She has not fallen under the spell of Trump, but nothing she says seems to wake up her ex-friends who have.  She’s tried, but they only listen to Fox News or Conservative Talk Radio all day long.  She has to just keep calm and carry on, because, whether you believe it or not, Devi, only God can save America from this wolf in sheep’s clothing.

ME:  SAVEUSFROMTRUMPOHGOD,DELIVERUSFROMTRUMPOHGOD… OMMMMMMMMM

DEVILONEOUS:  Well, I’m bored!  So, I’m gonna make like a banana and split.  But before I do, I thought I’d read you a couple of Facebook quotes, prayers, and Tweets from some of the White Right-Wing Evangelicals who think God is on their side and who are gonna ride the wave with Trumpee, no matter what.  Kind of like the Civil War.  Preachers prayed that God keep slavery intact and help the South slaughter the North, while the North prayed the South would be burned to the ground.  Wonder whose prayers will get heard this go round?

Religious Right and Trump Pat Bagley Salt Lake Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Pat Bagley, Salt Lake Tribune

DEVILONEOUS:  Check these out…

Pastor Rodney Howard-Browne wrote on Instagram: “Highlight after all these years of fighting for America – standing in the Oval Office with @realdonaldtrump and @vp and @paulamichellewhite and other leaders – listening to our great President talk about America – Great Job Mr. President- Great Job.”

Pastor Howard-Browne wrote on his Facebook that he was asked by Paula White to pray over Trump and the pastor asked God for “supernatural wisdom, guidance and protection.” “Wow — we are going to see another great spiritual awakening.”

How about this one by Mark Collins who is a John Bircher/pastor at a Baptist church…

“God has sent America a new, powerful leader. He’s a good man, a moral man. God has delivered Donald J. Trump to save the United States of America.”

Deviloneous:  And you gonna love this ET—it will set your hair on fire…

The Donald, who once confessed to be a non-reader said this in March as he compared himself to King Cyrus of the Bible:  “Cyrus the Great, a leader of the ancient Persian Empire, famously said that ‘freedom, dignity, and wealth together constitute the greatest happiness of humanity. If you bequeath all three to your people, their love for you will never die.’”

ANGELICA:  I wonder who fed Trump that convenient bit of “history?”  Yep, America is fucked!

DEVILONEOUS:  Ooooh, Angie, you gonna get in so much trouble for swearin’!  Hey, what happened to ET?  She fell over on her right side.  Dang, looks like she’s asleep.  Oh well, guess my work is done.

Meditative Stillness meme

I am discovering that we are truly screwed as a country with 45 as our leader.  This situation is going to last a lot longer than any of the resisters and anti-Trump folks ever thought, and it is going to take years to recover from the damage that will have been done to the country by Trump and his right-wing, misquided, delusional zealots.  Save us, Oh God, deliver us, Oh God…have mercy on us, oh God!

Russia Bear Biting Trump's Butt

Cartoon used by permission: CagleCartoons.com

SCARY QUOTE

“Many Evangelicals who voted for Trump continue to have an abiding faith in his presidency. Just as Cyrus returned the Jews to Jerusalem, and restored their wealth, so Trump, they fervently believe, will restore a lost world of personal safety, psychological security and material prosperity.”—James S. Gordon, The Guardian, “Does the ‘Cyrus prophecy’ help explain evangelical support for Donald Trump?”

******

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

BOOKS WRITTEN BY AUTHOR AVAILABLE ON AMAZON

The Fetus Chronicles: Podcasts from My Miseducated Self

Fleeing Oz

Monsters’ Throwdown

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

*****

REFERENCES

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/mar/23/cyrus-prophecy-evangelical-support-donald-trump

http://www.rightwingwatch.org/post/leader-of-trump-cabinet-bible-study-god-only-hears-prayers-of-righteous-christians/

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/once-again-the-silence-of-the-republicans-has-been-profound/2017/07/12/1b158ca6-6742-11e7-a1d7-9a32c91c6f40_story.html?hpid=hp_no-name_opinion-card-d%3Ahomepage%2Fstory

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/get-off-the-trump-train-before-it-crashes/2017/07/12/6e0959e2-673d-11e7-9928-22d00a47778f_story.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/under-trump-us-has-lost-its-moral-authority-down-under/2017/07/14/00dae05c-680a-11e7-8eb5-cbccc2e7bfbf_story.html?hpid=hp_no-name_opinion-card-d%3Ahomepage%2Fstory

http://www.cnn.com/2017/07/12/politics/trump-prayer-photo/index.html

http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2017/07/16/the-john-birch-society-is-alive-and-well-in-the-lone-star-state-215377

http://www.theamericanconservative.com/dreher/christians-tempted-by-trump-idolatry/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/as-pat-robertsons-former-executive-producer-nothing-about-his-interview-with-trump-surprises-me_us_5967b182e4b0d6341fe75c51?section=us_contributor

 

 
3 Comments

Posted by on July 20, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , ,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA!

 (Story repurposed and updated from a similar post from 2014)

Do you know what I discovered about American teenagers regarding Independence Day? I ran across a survey where some of them thought it was a really cool movie (okay, I guess I can see that, given the charisma and popularity of Will Smith and all). But in another survey, when gently nudged towards the topic “History,” 14% of them said that July 4th was the day we declared our independence from. . .wait for it. . . wait for it: FRANCE! And according to a dude named Colin Campbell, head of the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, 5 million teenagers didn’t have a clue as to the meaning of why we celebrate July 4th. (Parents, you got some splainin’ to do!)

Happy 4th Beeler Cagle Cartoons

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

Egads!  Our founding fathers must be rolling over in their graves. Of course, I can’t be too hard on our teenagers when the adults aren’t representing the true meaning of Independence Day well with the state of our partisan politics these days.  We have a seventy-year-old man-baby, chronic liar as president who probably has never read the constitution (or at least acts like he hasn’t), who I am convinced is trying to destroy at least the First Amendment*—especially the fourth estate (the press) when it doesn’t agree with him, and will eventually wipe out the preamble to the constitution by the time his reign of terror is over:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

Truth vs Trump Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

I actually can’t completely blame these knuckleheads for their misinterpretations and stupid declarations of political terrorism. Do you want to know who I blame? I blame our founding fathers. Although I love my country very much, and I truly appreciate all their hard work and sacrifice, I don’t think we’d be in this place today if they had made several unorthodox (for their time) changes when they declared our independence in 1776 and wrote the Constitution some 11 years later in 1787.  What, you say? They were already laying their lives on the line—what more could we have asked of them? (Hmmmm, because they were all white, male, landowners who couldn’t see past their own aristocratic noses to include other people and gender groups to give them a broader perspective.)

I’ve always fantasized about becoming a time traveler and going back in time to influence history. Can you imagine the heart-attack scenario if I had the ability to pop into the Founding Fathers’ midst in Philadelphia on July 1, 1776?  (Yep, you read it correctly: the Declaration of Independence wasn’t signed on July 4th. Twelve of the thirteen colonies voted on the declaration on July 2, 1776, and then they spent the next two days massaging the language.  In fact, most of the delegates didn’t sign the document that kept us from having British accents until August 2nd).

constitution-jeff-parker-florida-today-and-the-fort-myers-news-press

Cartoon used by permission: Jeff Parker, Florida Today and the Fort Myers News

Can you imagine a sweltering, hot room full of sweaty White men in Philadelphia with all the windows closed and shutters latched (due to the treasonous nature of their activities) as they tried to function in woolen clothing and wigs—most of them scared shitless at what they were about to engage in?  And “poof,” out pops my chubby-21st-Century-ass into the middle of the room.

Original Intent Christopher Weyant The Hill

Cartoon used by permission: Christopher Weyant, The Hill

SCENE ONE

ET, THE TIME TRAVELER:  Yo, yo, yo FFs—how’s it hanging?

(Several of the Founding Fathers faint dead away, but the rest remain stupefied.)

ET: Robert Livingston and John Jay of New York would you please administer smelling salts to Edward Rutledge of South Carolina and Richard Henry Lee from Virginia, and make sure they are awake and listening? I don’t have much time, and I have a lot to say. Besides Livingston and Jay, you aren’t going to have the gonads to sign this document: I know it and you know it, so you might as well make yourselves useful by resuscitating your comrades. No judgment here—just the historical facts.

Gentlemen, I am from the future: 2017 to be exact. My name is Eleanor Tomczyk and I am a writer and a blogger. I just published a book called The Fetus Chronicles: Podcasts from My Miseducated Self (a mostly true memoir).   You’ll never get to read it, but you should know that even though you didn’t insure my unalienable rights as a descendant of a slave/a Cherokee Indian/a woman—I am free, I am educated, I am intelligent, I’m actually married to a white man… Who just fainted this time?  Livingston, was that you?

Anyway, slavery ends in 1865, and I pontificate on everything from soup to nutty politicians on something called the World Wide Web that the entire world has access to.  All this communicative power is mine because you will provide me freedom of speech in the Bill of Rights that you’re going to pass on August 21, 1789. Thanks FFs—I am forever in your debt because of that.

Fourth of July Bill Day Cagle Cartoons

Cartoon used by permission: Bill Day, Cagle Cartoons

ET:  But I just wanted to let you in on a secret that unless you pull in some women, some Black folks, some Native American peeps, and some new kinds of immigrants with Spanish accents, before you write the Constitution, you’re going to set up our beloved country for a world of hurt in the future. Lots of things are going to change by the time 2017 rolls around. Actually, you can go on and pass this declaration thingie because it is the Constitution in eleven years that you’re going to really need to expand your horizons on that really needs inclusion of the aforementioned groups.

Right now that foolish 2nd Amendment is causing all sorts of mayhem. It needs to be changed because you didn’t think it through well enough. When you pass that in the Bill of Rights, please note that thousands of precious children will be murdered in the future, and scores of foolish men and women will demand to open/carry their guns in our “marketplaces” just because they think that is what you meant by their “unalienable rights” and the “rights of individuals to bear arms.” What you meant then and the nutty shit we’re doing with guns now would cause you to weep. Also, can you add a little note that the Constitution was not written by God, America is not the New Jerusalem, and you could be wrong on at least a couple of things in the Constitution (ahem: slavery and a woman’s right to vote)?

guns-target-steve-sack-the-minneapolis-star-tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune

ET:  Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, and Hamilton (you can catch George Washington up to speed once he takes a break from the war), there is a line that you’ll put in the Constitution that bears fleshing out, if you ask me—if you really want to know:

“WE HOLD THESE TRUTHS TO BE SELF-EVIDENT” (so far so good), “THAT ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL” (should read “that all men AND WOMEN—no matter what their color or position in life—are created equal”) “THAT THEY ARE ENDOWED BY THEIR CREATOR” (should read “whomever you deem your creator to be”—leaving this open to interpretation will cause the lack of freedom of religion you fought so hard for because hardcore Christians will demand it to be their God, and the Materialists, the Deists, and the Atheists who most of you declared yourselves to be, will have Hell to pay) “WITH CERTAIN UNALIENABLE RIGHTS, THAT AMONG THESE ARE LIFE, LIBERTY, AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS” (should read “no matter what your gender, color, race, or social status in life”).

 ET:  My time is up—wish I could stay longer. Just one more thing: we elected a Black president in 2008 for two terms. Half the country didn’t make his reign as President an easy one, but he’ll probably go down in history as one of our greatest.  He certainly puts the petulant man-baby that followed him in the White House to shame.   I want you to know, I prayed daily that one of those 2nd Amendment right-wing nuts wouldn’t assassinate President Obama when he was in office (believe me, they tried). I breathed a sigh of relief when he left. Your 2nd Amendment has been grossly misinterpreted. It took on a religious fever against our first Black president with talks of revolution to overthrow him and his political party. Once you pass the Bill of Rights, by 2017 there will be more than 20 attempts to kill sitting and former presidents; 4 sitting presidents will be assassinated, 2 sitting presidents will have attempted assassinations on their lives, and every president from John F. Kennedy on will be threatened with assassination.  Surely, my dear Founding Fathers, that is not what you intended when you dreamed up our Declaration of Independence and our Constitution.

LET US CELEBRATE-parker-florida-today

Cartoon used by permission: Parker, Florida Today

ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA”) MOMENT ABOUT OUR COUNTRY’S WELL-BEING

I am discovering that our independence is a lot more fragile than we ever imagined.  Since Trump was voted into office and set up a Leninist—Steve Bannon—as his consigliere, while being carried in on a golden carriage by the religious right, I have been rereading every dystopian novel I can get my hands on. It seems as if every move Trump makes, every tweet he states is eroding our precious democracy and could destroy the very framework that our Founding Fathers laid their lives on the line for.  I am currently reading The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood.  In the introduction (written about her time in West Berlin five years before the Berlin Wall fell), she visited several countries behind the Iron Curtain and experienced the wariness and fear the citizens portrayed living under a totalitarian system, the author wrote:

“Having been born in 1939 and come to consciousness during World War II, I knew that established orders could vanish overnight.  Change could also be as fast as lightning.  It can’t happen here could not be depended on: anything could happen anywhere, given the circumstances.”

This Fourth of July, I will celebrate with a stronger sense of urgency the wonderment of the incredible independence I have been given.  I, along with millions of other Americans, made the mistake in thinking that we’d always keep building on that marvelous Declaration of Independence and its sister, The Constitution.  We never once imagined that there would ever be circumstances that would pull the rug out from under our right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  I always thought our constitutional foundation was strong—something that could always be improved upon for all its citizens, but still strong.  That it would never be destroyed, because it couldn’t possibly happen here . . . until one day a loathsome, misogynistic, constitutionally ignorant, man-baby crawled out of the sewer with a tweeter feed and became our 45th President.

Our Founding Fathers are rolling over in their graves.

Offal Office Pat Bagley Salt Lake Tribune

Pat Bagley, Salt Lake Tribune

INSPIRATIONAL QUOTES

“The assertion that ‘all men are created equal’ was of no practical use in effecting our separation from Great Britain and it was placed in the Declaration not for that, but for future use.”Abraham Lincoln

“The legitimate powers of government extend to such acts only as are injurious to others. It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.” Thomas Jefferson

“You can protect your liberties in this world only by protecting the other man’s freedom. You can be free only if I am free.”Clarence Darrow

“When the public’s right to know is threatened, and when the rights of free speech and free press are at risk, all of the other liberties we hold dear are endangered.”Christopher Dodd

Independence Day End FB Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA!

REFERENCES

*http://talkingpointsmemo.com/edblog/priebus-trump-considering-amending-or-abolishing-1st-amendment 

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

Eleanor Tomczyk is the author of Monsters’ Throwdown, Fleeing Oz, and her latest memoir—The Fetus Chronicles: Podcasts from My Miseducated Self (a mostly true memoir)

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on June 29, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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PLEASE BLOW SMOKE UP MY KEISTER

Do you know what I discovered?  Trump taught me something recently.  (I know!  Aren’t you amazed!)  He taught me how a person can get people to blow smoke up his or her behind, and it can sometimes be a good thing.  I’m sure you all saw it or read about it.  He called his first cabinet meeting and after touting his royal greatness, he had his cabinet sound off one-by-one about what a fabulous job he’s been doing and what an incredible leader he is.

Trump Cabinet Steve Sack The Minneapolis Star Tribune

Cartoon used by permission: Steve Sack, The Minneapolis Star-Tribune

BINGO, I thought.  This is sheer genius!  Trumpee has taught me something I can use.  Why don’t I apply this methodology to getting reviews for my new book, I thought?  You see, I just learned from my publicist that if I can get 50 reviews from people who have read my new book, The Fetus Chronicles: Podcasts from my Miseducated Self, Amazon will list my book in its newsletters and other promotions.  Isn’t that cool?

BMProof-FetusChronicles

“The Fetus Chronicles” Book Mark Proof: Su from Earthly Charms

 

I bet you’re saying to yourself, “I’d love to write a review for you Eleanor, but if the truth be known, the thought of typing something into Amazon cares me to death.  How do I go about it, and what if I get tongue tied, or in this case, finger tied?”  Don’t be afraid.  It is quite simple.  You don’t have to be Hemingway; you can say as little as, “I liked this book,” and all you have to do is follow these very simple instructions:

How to Write a Review

In the meantime, while you are thinking about how to “blow smoke up my ass” on Amazon (if you hate my book, remember that my name is “Smeegle Klondonovich”), please enjoy a redo of my first published writing that started it all.  I got beaten by the writing bug, so to speak, after I wrote this.  This story will hopefully remind you what a “brilliant, talented, outstanding, deeply profound writer I am”—don’t you agree?

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WILL HIGH SCHOOL EVER END?

(Repurposed post from 2013)

Why is it in real life, as in high school, we exert so much energy trying to impress people we don’t know, won’t ever see again after our season of random internment, and who have no financial or emotional investment in our future?

I have beautiful, White girlfriends who won’t go to a swimming pool while on vacation because they don’t have the figures they had in college anymore, and the strangers across the pool from them, who they don’t know and couldn’t care a rat’s ass about, might become scornful of their cellulite or less than perky boobs. When in reality, they should be embracing Joy Behar’s classic observation of things that shouldn’t matter one iota:  “So what – who cares?”

All my baby boomer girlfriends have better bodies than I, but even though I’m at least 50 pounds heavier (when I’m telling the truth), I have a black woman’s sensibility about this issue: accent the positive, suck in the negative, and skirt the thunderous. Then bedazzle the shit out of your goddess self with a rhinestone cover-up and rhinestone flip-flops, and “drop it like it’s hot, baby”!

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Author Doing Her Bedazzled Thing: Photo Credit–J. Tomczyk

Not too long ago, my husband and I took an extended cruise in the Mediterranean.  It was the trip of a lifetime. Everything was better than we had fantasized: the weather was picture perfect, the people were warm and accepting, the 3,000 passenger ship was outstanding, the food was superb, and we were like newlyweds reveling in each other’s company. The only thing that seemed to cause just a tiny bit of consternation was the very aggressive touring itinerary (4 days of excursions, 1 day at sea, 3 days of excursion, 1 day at sea, 2 days of excursion, 1 day at sea) that we had been given. But I wasn’t overly concerned because even though I’m a “fat-bottom girl,” it doesn’t mean I’m not in good health. I’m a daily exerciser and had trained for this trip for 8 months.  I added strenuous hills to my daily, treadmill workout, climbed the stairs at work in the afternoons, and special ordered shoes a triathlon athlete would use.

What I didn’t expect and what my research never revealed was that all of our 10 touring sites were perched on the top of ancient hills or mountains with steep inclines to protect the antiquity inhabitants from marauders.  Most accesses were like scaling a wall.

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Port of Malta: Photo Credit–E. Tomczyk

Every evening we were given an overview of the activities for the next day.  In between the instructions for the cake decorating class and the marzipan demonstrations was listed the information the cruise director felt we needed in order to survive our shore excursions.

Ship Brochure: It takes 600 steps to reach the top of your fabulous destination.  There is a cable car if you prefer or you can employ a donkey to transport you up and down the ancient stone stairs.  Wear comfortable shoes. Cost: $100 – $400/person. The ship departs at 5:30 – if you miss the departure, you will have to make your own way to the next port to meet the ship.

Translation: The 600 steps are straight up the face of a mountain; the cable car often has a two-hour wait, and you will miss your ship utilizing that mode of transportation. The stairs are shared by donkeys that slip constantly on the descent and leave slippery “pooh” all over the staircase from Hell. No manner of footwear is capable of keeping you upright once you lose your footing going down – you might as well kiss your sorry ass goodbye. Before you leave this beautiful island, the tour guide will make sure she dumps you in the shopping area that has only one way in and out to the stairs or the unreliable, overly-crowded cable car system. The shopkeepers will try to help you by relieving you of as many Benjamins as possible to lighten the load of your descent. Trying to balance yourself on a donkey while your hands are stuffed with chotzkies however will be proof-positive that you have lost your ever-loving mind – once and for all. Good luck, silly over-weight Americans!

DAY THREE TOUR:  On day three, my husband (the Energizer Bunny), a gay couple (the extremely handsome, not-one-ounce-of-fat-on-their-bones Neil Patrick Harris and his partner David Burtka look-alikes), a lesbian couple (50’ish with similar body frames as mine whose bodies had each born children in their former lives), an octogenarian grandmother from Iowa sporting a recent double-knee replacement, and an old dude of an age somewhere between 90 and Methuselah began our shore excursion.

Because I temporarily lost consciousness, I can’t remember at what point I lost my mind and reverted back to high school.  I do remember approaching a sky-high escalator in a museum with hundreds of other people in sweltering heat and watching the escalator break down right before my group got on.  Because there was a wall of people behind us, we were forced to go forward and mount a circular ramp that seemed like twenty flights of stairs that shot straight up to the heavens. The lesbian mothers, the grandmother from Iowa, the Methuselah dude, and I stared at each other in total horror! Hadn’t we just climbed 300 steps the day before and 200 steps the day before that, as well as an unexpected 100 steps in a museum that wasn’t listed?  Didn’t the brochure assure us there would be no more steps to climb on this tour? I could have sworn someone said we’d catch a break today.

Carnival Dave Granlund Politicalcartoons com

Cartoon used by permission: Dave Granlund, Politicalcartoons.com

All I know is that my husband, who has the ability to walk faster than most people can run, took off up the ramp to find the tour guide who was nowhere to be seen.  As the rest of our group began to ascend the inevitable, the gay boys began telling us about a rather large, fat-bottomed woman (whose ass was the size of Cleveland) who couldn’t make it up the last ramp in the previous city, and they just couldn’t understand why people didn’t read the ship instructions about the strenuous nature of the excursions.

(Had they seen my ass, I wondered?  Was this a veiled hint about moi?)

“I mean, really now, why can’t these people ‘just say no’ if they’re too fat to complete the course without looking like they’re going to die,” said our Neil Patrick Harris look-alike cruise mate. “Personally, I feel like making an announcement tonight at dinner over the PA system.  ‘Really people – know your limitations; because you need to cut the rest of us some freakin’ slack!  We’re having heart attacks here just wondering if you’re gonna have a heart attack right in front of us’”!

The lesbian couple, the grandmother, the tremulous old man, and I gingerly laughed along with the boys, but we silently heard the “Rocky theme song” roaring in our ears (or was it the blood rushing to our heads before the onset of major strokes as we secretly wondered if they were ridiculing us?).  We took off up the incline like thoroughbreds at the Kentucky Derby trying to match the gait of the Adonis boys, leaning almost at a 45 degree angle to balance our bodies on the slope. As I passed the old man at my road-runner pace, his eyes widened in terror as his lips mouthed, “What the fuck?” but my team and I had to leave him in the dust.  Keeping up with the Adonis-looking critics was all that mattered, even if it meant moving at the speed of light and losing a soldier along the way.  These bodies had born children and nursed babies, goddamnit! The fat on our asses, our low-hanging breasts, and puff-n-stuff stomachs were badges of honor.  Maybe the gay boys had children, but they sure as hell hadn’t “had” children!

The octogenarian dropped out about two-thirds of the way (clutching her side) and gasping for air. My lesbian sisters and I made it to the top without dying, but I had a Charlie-horse in my ass that wouldn’t quit. As the girls and I high-fived each other (sisters, hangin’ tough!), I could see (being the chubbiest in the bunch) that I had impressed the boys. What they didn’t know was that I couldn’t say more than two words without gasping for air or I would keel over and die.  I didn’t dare speak without great measure.  I knew if I tried to articulate more than one five-word sentence without pausing, I’d be the gay boys’ prophecy come true: one fat-bottom woman careening into their perfectly fit, athletic bodies and knocking them back down the slope like a giant chocolate snowball from on high.  So I took out my Blackberry (remember those?), nonchalantly leaned against the museum wall, and pretended to check messages as if I were some high-muckety-muck at a Fortune 500 company and the business couldn’t live without me.

Uphills Meme

Runner Meme: Courtesy of @ Cook in Canuck

“Some hike, huh?” said one of the gorgeous boys.

 “Uh, huh. . . .” I whispered, while trying not to lose consciousness as my heart almost exploded in my chest from over-exertion.

“Great ship, isn’t it? said the other Adonis boy. “What’s on your agenda tomorrow?  We’re going rock climbing.  Isn’t that exciting?!”

 “G-r-e-a-t!” (tap) “Me doing” (tap) “pool” (tap) “water volley-ball tournament” (tap) “against a bunch of twenty-somethings” (tap)—”gonna make them eat my” (tap) “dust.”

“Excellent!  You go, girl with your bad self!”

Clearly, I had impressed the boys.

The next day found the quivering old man with both hands glued to a walker while arduously climbing into the hot tub (he was still there at dinner time with a smile on his face).  The lesbian couple, the grandmother, and I met up at the spa first, and then we subsequently waddled to our separate “quiet” corners around the adult pool (cellulite, thunderous thighs, and saggy tits on full display).  We spent the afternoon sipping rum punches and napping the day away in rockin’ bathing suits while our mental health applauded our goal-setting activity of just being ourselves and being proud of the hard-earned battles won by giving and sustaining life with our amazing bodies.

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ELEANOR’S SELAH (“AHA”) MOMENT

I’ve discovered that if my girlfriends (old and new) and I ever want to shake the specter of high school, we need to finally travel at the beat of our own drummers in our old age, because it’s the condition in which we arrive at the final destination, not the opinions of others, that really matters.  Joy Behar really is an oracle whose mantra we should adopt when the high school spirit tries to tear us down and make us forget the amazing women that we have become in our mature years: So what – who cares!

Write a Review FB

Writer’s Meme: Courtesy of LianaBrooks.com

WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR?  Check out her website at www.eleanortomczyk.com

HAVEN’T YET READ ANY OF THE AUTHOR’S DISCOVERY SERIES?  CHECK OUT HER AUTHOR’S PAGE ON AMAZON!

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on June 20, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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