Experiences that don't actually happen to you

I've been tuning into the hearings lately and I keep having two recurring memories that are DEFINITELY skewing my perspective of MY TAKE on what's going down.

Here is the deal.  This entire saga is completely bipartisan.  Any way you look at it.

We all feel like we want to feel based on the testimony from both parties, with just a PINCH of our own political beliefs.  I am not a political person and I normally shy away from either a political or religious debate.  That being said.  This is different.  This feels PERSONAL.

I have no AGENDA other than to give a human perspective to this very heated political debate.

Here is how I feel, and I will give you some anecdotes and situations along the way so that you may empathize with the conclusions I have come to.

I was never raped.  Nor was I ever sexually assaulted.  Thank God.  I did, however, volunteer at the Rape Crisis Center during college.

Contrary to popular belief, if you know my personality, you would assume that I was a major player in high school and college.

Writing that just made me giggle.

My point is that I think that because you are outgoing and raw at times, that you are sexually active. 

I was a MAJOR virgin queen before I met Brad.  I guess his obvious virulence changed all that.  But, for some reason it was always a fear of mine that I would get raped before I lost my virginity and truly even after that. 

I don't know where this fear came from - maybe it was a combination of my Catholic upbringing and my Mom's insistence that she was a virgin on her wedding night.  My brother was born nine months to the day of their wedding, so once I was old enough to do the math, I realized she was a liar, but STILL.

In undergrad and graduate school, I volunteered for the Rape Crisis Center.  You went through a weekend long training and then you were assigned 12 hour shifts when the center was closed where you would be "on call" to answer any calls that came in from "clients" during that time.

We were taught as counselors that there are three rapes after an assault - the crime, the evidence collection and the cross examination if it ever went to court.  Rapes were notoriously hard to prosecute and sexual assault was just downright impossible.

You were assigned either the night or weekend shift a few times per week.  I usually took weeknights, but like any job, they would schedule you as they needed you.  I don't know WHY I am remembering what I am remembering but I guess it has been residing in my "brain stem".

Mostly, I would get young girls or women who needed to talk out experiences they had had, involving RAPE or SEXUAL ASSAULT, that had happened weeks or decades ago.

They were all the same.  Terrified to admit it really happened. That was a common theme.  But once the flood gates opened, they remembered every sordid detail.  EVERY FUCKING DETAIL of the RAPE and it's aftermath.

They would often describe how they left their body, both during the act and after, as if it were happening to someone else.

But they could tell you the smell and the other tactile parts as if it were happening in real time.

So let's switch gears to my OTHER recurring memory in my sorority house. 

There was a group of us that used to all do our homework and projects in the dining room on the weekends and whenever there wasn't a meal about to be served. 

We had these expansive floor to ceiling windows on all sides of the dining room and we would work together on our various majors and bullshit.

I was a Senior and there was this Sophomore in the house that I was particularly fond of.  My mom made me live in the house for three years so that she just had "one bill" to pay so I was in a house at time with 18-year-olds when I was 21.

There was a world of difference between us, but there were some underclassmen that I just ADORED and she was one of them.  I can only describe her as a hippie that lit up every room.

She was short and gorgeous and kind and smart and on this fine Sunday afternoon, confiding.

She was upset because a boy that was being nominated for Class President had tried to rape her at a frat party when she was a Freshman.

It was just the two of us in that big room, she was working on an Art project and I was doing some phantom advertising campaign for a pregnancy test that no one in my class would understand.  I could have picked ANY product or service in the universe and I was working on a story board for a commercial where (and hand drawn might I add) a couple who did NOT want a baby who was taking a pregnancy test and they were relieved so that they could resume their AWESOME childless lives.

At least I had them married, right?  Saturday Night Live would spoof this very same scenario years later, using casual daters, but at least I was ahead of my time.

https://video.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?fr=yhs-pty-pty_speedtest&hsimp=yhs-pty_speedtest&hspart=pty&p=snl+pregnancy+test+commercial#id=1&vid=1033c1f46ef4add5a168d52e4c5f700e&action=click

I got a C from my perplexed Octogenarian professor.

Anyway, we are alone in the late afternoon in the dining room, she at a large table all to herself, and me, with a table catty corner to hers toward the front.

"I'm just upset," she said, as we leaned over our respective dining tables with the chairs stacked up neatly in the corner. "I KNOW what I should do, but who will believe me?  I never thought he would make it this far.  I've watched him ascend through the ranks, and I have kept quiet, but now he might be PRESIDENT and he should not be making decisions for the rest of us, when he is a dirtbag.  It has been making me SICK."

She proceeded to tell me how she was at a party with a bunch of people and they were drinking and playing pool and somehow she and the Presidential candidate were alone and he locked the door and forced himself on her and she was saying "NO!" and then she was saved when someone interrupted and knocked on the door which startled him and she got away, unlocked the door and fled the house.

I advised her to do nothing, that the ODDS were against her.  I was scared.  Scared that she would ruin her life and he would prevail anyway.  The ol' boy network in Lexington was a strong one.

She agreed, and did nothing and I do not remember if he became President or not but my takeaway is  that I gave her shitty advice.  I should have promised to be her ride or die, her chief advertising counsel, instead of her non-I'm just trying to graduate friend.  She reached out to me and instead of being a support system and a champion, I was complicit and a coward.

She, now, is an artist in New York City and we follow each other on Insta.  I don't know if she reads this blog or not, but if she, YOU are, consider it an apology.  I wish I had been stronger and more mature and a better friend.

Back to The Rape Crisis Center.  So, it was pretty RARE that during your shift you would have to meet a client at the hospital to act as a representative for a RAPE victim because NO ONE EVER REPORTED ONE at the time of the assault.  However, one night on my shift, I was called to act as a liaison from our center to a victim while she waited for backup from family or friends.

I do not remember any other clients but HER and this is what I remember.

She was a prostitute.  The smell was unbearable.  I held her hand while they performed the exam.  She was inconsolable. I vomited.  She was treated like shit by the cops taking her statement.  The medical team was amazing and kind and respectful.  She acted EXACTLY like the women who relived their RAPE to me on the phone.  And no one ever came to be with her besides me.

I guess just watching Dr. Ford testify was enough to conjure up these memories.  So much so, that I cannot stop thinking about the juxtaposition of these two events in my life and my recollections and feelings associated with not only those events but my REACTION to those events.

There is a whole "I Believe Her" movement going on today and so do I.  People are saying that it DID happen, just not as she remembers it, specifically relating to the aggressor.

It IS unusual that a perp would exhibit this behavior in adolescence and not adulthood.  Studies support that.  I get it.

But, in my teeny tiny experience as a Rape Crisis Center counselor a billion years ago, she is not only telling the truth but she is risking EVARYTHING that she has accomplished and transcended by drudging up her past. 

During the hearings, at best she seems unstable, but this is just a snapshot on the national stage of who she is and what her life is like. I would think that I would appear emotional and stricken if I had to admit to a sexual assault 30 years ago.

Again, she is risking EVERYTHING.  She may have been an unknowing cog in the political machine, and I am talking Democrats here, but in my experience, she is telling the truth.  And her recollection is accurate.

I just wish I had had the courage to support my young sorority sister when she confided in me, but I didn't.  I was thinking about the publicity and the heartache and the repercussions of standing up for yourself and not the bigger picture.

It IS a big deal, y'all.  A Supreme Court Justice is for life.  Shouldn't he/she be beyond reproach? I don't care if you have affairs.  Maybe you are in an unhappy marriage.  I would LOVE it if you didn't and if you were a family man/woman that kisses babies and nuzzles puppies on the campaign trail and you reveled in every second of it,  yet that is not very realistic, is it?  But the one thing I won't and we shouldn't all tolerate is a sexual predator.  They ruin lives. 

And finally...are there no other candidates?

That is what I thought in the last election.  Have we gotten to the point where it is the lesser of two evils, again?  Only who are the two evils, here, Democrats and Republicans that just confuse the issue to each's own gain?  At the expense of what and who? 

I do not believe that Ford is some means to an end for some political party's gain.  She may be a pawn between the two but it doesn't matter.  The issue and the allegations are real. 

I have been vocal in the past about it being unfair to reach into someone's history and then defining that person by one moment.  This is the exception.  You cannot abuse someone and become a Supreme Court Justice.  You are held to a higher standard and you should be.

If you have gotten away with it in the past, then that's on us.  It has GOT to change now.

Guidance:  Don't watch Fox News.  I had never watched it before last night.  It is pure VITRIOL.  No reporter should have an opinion on it's subject, let alone MOCK it.  It is the reporter's job to RELAY the facts. Point Blank Period.  When did this become a THING for a newscaster to verbally eviscerate a story or specifically it's subject?  I don't know what they are teaching journalism students nowadays, but in ancient times, they just used to squash your creativity, not create media monsters.

I've been thinkin lately...about this blog

So I really DID Google myself and this GURL came up under Johnna.  Apparently, she and her husband took their 7-month-old on several break-ins recently.  Childcare proved to be more evasive than they are.

Today I was thinking about what I REALLY want out of this blog as I Googled myself for the 45th time and checked the stats on Blogger.com.

I don't have Facebook on my phone anymore, although, I continue to have BIG BOTHER (intentional spelling) send me notifications, which my kids pronounce NAWT-if-fa-KAY-shuns, and I told them it sounds like "Not a vacation" which you NEVER get from Facebook.

I stopped going on it because my middle daughter, we'll call her Mills, wiped my ENTIRE existence off of the iCloud and thus my IPhone.   We are talking contacts, photos, apps, EVERAYTHANG.  So now FB is just on my laptop and I only look in when I post.

Wow.  That made me sound so cool, right?

Not really, you miss out on the stuff on FB that was sweet, like a friend's daughter graduating from Cosmetology school or a buddy's 18-month-old daughter playing piano with her great grandmother.

I just decided I had the opportunity to make some technological choices and Facebook was what the racetrack calls a SCRATCH.

Subsequently, I was infiltrated by the Dark Web, and I became locked out of my password on my computer.  This happened when I tried to set up my wireless printer.

Beware of pop up windows.  Even on LEGIT sites.  It's all about what has already come in the backdoor to your computer that are attached to games and other stuff your kids download that presents the OPPORTUNITY for you to get completely grifted and humiliated.

MeeMaw has had a rough time with the TECHNOLOGAAAAY as of late.

But, it was a new start.

For instance,  I just ADORE getting a random text and I have to respond, "New phone. Who dis?"

Especially when it is the school Principal or nurse.  BOTH have been blowin me up lately.  Just kidding.  Half truths.  For a laugh.  Or IS it?

Who cares?  Right?  That is the conclusion I keep coming to.  The only way this blog can work is if I have no expectations.

Let's be real.  Do I want to go viral?  Do I want sponsorships?  Do I want to end up on the Today Show with Matt Lauer - oh, oops.  I mean, Hoda and Ryan?

Now, I KNOW Hoda and Ryan aren't together on a show.  But they may as well be.  It's all the same.  Keep up.

What do you want out of this?  I thought to myself as I twittered a half nude pic of myself advertising my new and IMPROVED blog.

That's just the thing.  You literally have to give ZERO fucks and then the World will respect you.  But then, what is the cost?

I don't want my family to suffer.  That is the only consequence I foresee for  being MYSELF and for using this to pontificate on all things that irritate or intrigue me while offering my opinion.

My goal is to try and keep it clean, and by that, I mean that I will not directly HURT anyone or DEMEAN them in the process of writing.  I will not use this soapbox in a negative way.  Unless you count the posts where I am irritable and rip on everything I see and hear.

Legacy is too strong a word.  But on a small scale, it is, as long as you keep it small and REAL, right?  As long as you are true to yourself and to your storytelling.  Even if it is all exaggerated and subjective and inappropriate.

I like to write what I know and think and experience and then process.

This blog has "guidance" in the name and I often refer to myself as a Prophet, but let's be REAL, I don't really expect anyone to be anything but entertained.  And if I present a case for something, whether it be the Death Penalty or the most economical eyelash procedures...at the end of the day, I am just shootin' the shit and there is nothing more to it than that.

Sooooo, going forward this blog is going to be named Gratuitous BULLSHIT because that is my mission statement - to BULLSHIT as I please, WHEN I muthafuckin' PLEASE , about ANYTHING I please and you can read it or not read it and react or don't react.  I DON'T CARE.  This is for ME.  It is my outlet.  And if you get anything out of it - a chuckle or the courage to leave your spouse, that's on YOU, beaaatttchhes.

I'm just a vessel.

Anyway, thanks to those of you for sticking with me. Nothing is as it seems anymore, in terms of media, and I guess I wanted to make sure that I was blogging for the right reasons.

Naomi Osaka, Serena Williams and TAGLINES

This is the Martin Luther King statue Hal and I went to, in DC.  You don't always have to STAND for something.  But when the moment arises.  It's OK.  If I worked for Adidas right now, or if I were a Real Housewife, I would make my tagline, "Stand for something.  Not EVARAYDAY, but when it WARRANTS it.  Point, Blank. Period." 

I haven't been PROPHESIZING on everything going on in the media with the #metoo movement and Trump and fake news and Facebook and suicide survivor shaming and Op Ed's and families being separated during the immigration "process" and everything else that when I look in, makes me sad.

Therefore, I have been just concentrating on what is in front of me.  And then I get tidbits of how the World is going to HELL in a handbasket thru Instagram and my girls and my friends and my husband and then I investigate said tidbit and stop because it is too easy for me to go down the rabbit hole when something intrigues me, and then something like TODAY happens.

I just sat down to watch the U.S. Open.

Up front, I will just say that I LOUUUUVEEE Serena Williams.  So, I, hands down, wanted to watch her win the title and a grand slam, after becoming a Mom.  But, really after she starred in Beyonce's video for "Sorry".  No apologies and no pun intended.  She is the fucking I Ching.  Again, no specifically Asian pun intended.  I just like the term.

Another thing I LOOOUUUVEE are the Japanese.  I've been there twice and have friends there and I was JUST talking about them today with Hallie, before the match, and ALLLLL of my kids want to go there one day because I love the people so much.

(I have a couple of posts in my archive that I know I am supposed to link here but I don't care.  Look it up.  Search Japan or houseguest, I don't know.)

That being said.  I sat down to watch the match and didn't sit the entire time.  Before the match started, the commentator stopped each in the hall where they had to take their Beats (for Serena) and ear buds (for Naomi) out to be interviewed in the white corridor right before they reached the court.

Serena got a glaze over her eyes and said all of the things that Kevin Costner's character tells Tim Robbin's character when he is interviewed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeVca9MwDX8

Naomi, a virtual deer in the headlights was fresh and gracious and awestruck.

They put their headphones back in and proceed to the court.

Serena for all intensive purposes gets SMOKED in the first set. It lasted like 30 minutes.

Then, the proverbial SHIT hits the fan.

In a series of three fail swoops, Serena gets penalized two points and a game because the ref accuses her of being coached on the sidelines, which according to Chris Everett, "happens all the time" with EVARAYONE.

Serena didn't even see it.  Or maybe she did.  But this blog is about the rules applying to SOME and not ALL.

An exchange ensues.

He accuses her and swiftly punishes.  She is surprised and then processes.  She defends herself.  He flexes his Man muscle - the EGO. She is perplexed and shocked that this is happening.  She slams her racquet and he gives her a second strike. She goes at him again, not during the match, but on break, defends her honor.  He penalizes her again.  She is enraged and will not back down.  He gives her opponent a GAME.  She calls in the supervisors. They are stunned,  and yet hog tied as she is as she pleads her case.

The match proceeds, Osaka is stricken, but wins the match fairly easily with one game to go. I felt like she might have given up a game after the penalty, because the Japanese are so accomodating, but I'm not sure.

Serena is balling.  Naomi is balling.  The crowd is booing.  Serena asks them to stop, not ONCE but TWICE and she hugs Naomi and concedes to her like Beyonce did when Solange beat the shit out of Jay Z in the elevator.

End scene.

How FUCKED UP is that?

The World is going to HELL in a handbasket.

Let's switch gears.  I have long LOATHED the male driver when taking my kids to school.  They are so aggressive and they don't think the rules apply to them, but if you bend the rules as a woman, they will literally eviscerate you with their body language and their eyes.

And that's fine.

I just flipped off a good friend of mine, let's just call her Christen, because she was trying to play chicken with me on Northstar, a road riddled with jankily parked cars on each side feeding out to the road my CVS is on.

Side note:  My family and I have been sick with various ailments for a two weeks.  CVS and it's amazaballs Minute Clinic are now considered HOME in my google maps.

To be fair, cause Im DOWN with the #METOO movement, I am an equal opportunity offender and flipped the bird at a Dad, dropping off my kid at the high school.  In my defense, I was dropping off Mills for practice and apparently she took too long and he HONKED AT ME.

My point is, that MALE EGO muscle has a mind of it's own.

But so does the post-partum ego. And by post-partum, I mean any woman who has gotten pregnant or had a period.

Hell Hath No Fury than when you FUCK with Momma.  ESPECIALLY when she is RIGHT.

It's just that "What the fuck is WRONG with you?" reflex.  Am I RIGHT Ladies?

But, then again, you KNOW what is wrong.  He done flexed his ego muscle.  And then it's ALLLL OVER.  There ain't no comin' back from THAT.  He done LOST his MIND.

That is what happened today.  At The Open.  It might as well have been the Billie Jean King Battle of the Sexes all over again.  Only it was a not an equal playing field.  Ya dig?  Let me break it down for you.  He had all the power and he knew it.  Ultimately.  I'm not burning my bra, here, mostly because it would not be a real statement, considering I rarely wear them and I look forward to Fall because I can wear sweatshirts again.

I DID, however,  just get some AMAZING bras from Aerie, American Eagle's lingerie and intimates counterpart, that are soft and lightly padded and basically a sports bra with ZERO sex appeal other than their color that are SOOOOOO comfortable.

My point is, that I would never burn them, but might, if provoked, burn my underwire, heavily padded lace ones.  They don't fit anymore anyway.  Is that still a statement?  I think SO.

AIIIGHT, let's go back to the Match and it's implications.  Serena was NOT gonna put up with his shit.  In the moment, she was the proverbial Tina Turner, when she confronted IKE.  For the last time, that is.

I kept thinking as I watched it, "She can't BELIEVE this is happening." And if you watch it, you will see that in her eyes.

It was genuine DISBELIEF, and then ANGER and then RESOLVE.

She got a HOLD of herself and that is more than I can say for the Ref, that betta get hisself into
witness protection STAT.

Think of the bigger impact, though.  This will make history.  All of it.  And all of the outcomes.

This is NOT the open.  I just Love the pic.

You made history, tonight, Serena and Naomi.  You showed the World what a lady looks like.  We are complicated.  We are emotional.  We are introspective.  And we are resolved.  Right, ladies?

Disclaimer:  I write this as my husband is in Vegas and we have been sick for two weeks and I probably should have some carbs.  But, whatev.  Girls RULE!

The CLIMATE of Sexual Assault and Washington, D.C. and my MAD RESPECT for Veterans

Remember when people even engaged in conversation about morality?

The Jefferson Memorial.  My fav quote of all time.

Aiight, I'm going to admit right up front that I get all my news from The Hollywood Reporter.  I clicked on something like an old person and now I get literal ALERTS from the Hollywood Reporter on my phone.  Whatever.  Every time I get a notification on my phone which is a gazillion times a day, it is from the Hollywood Reporter.  I shit you not.  So right now my whole world is SEXUAL HARASSMENT. It's one outing after another.

And how does this make me ANY different than someone who only gets their news from say CNN or FOX?  It is skewed.  I admit. But at least I am willing to admit it. I RECOGNIZE that my news source has a special filter.  So what?  So does everyone else's.

Call me crazy, but is sexual harassment NEW? I can site two MAJOR BLATANT sexual harassment instances in my work life which to every one's amusement centered on my breasts and I guess I'm a douchebag, but like it happened a hundred years ago and even though I am totally gonna OUT them here, I do not in any way mean to empower anyone.  I just wanna tell a good story.  And then you can take away what you need to take away from it...a laugh, recognition, empathy and then awareness, I guess, if I am being honest with myself.

Up front, I will say that I DO feel that there is a TRUE delineation between a Perve with minor power and a distorted sense of self and a lineage of misogyny versus a genuine sexual predator.  Let me throw some names out there:

Bill Cosby
Louis C.K.
Harvey Weinstein (duh)
Brett Ratner
and apparently Kevin Spacey aka President Frank Underwood

and then there's DUSTIN HOFFMAN, NOT a predator, but perhaps just a product of his generation and upbringing and let's not forget CHARACTER, which I'll get to later.

Could this BE?  I actually ENJOY the work of all of the above and they are DIRTBAGS?  How do I get my BRAIN around this?

Oh, I already have.  Woody Allen.  LOVE his work.  His films speak to me.  He is a TRUE artist.  Right?  STILL watch his films and look forward to each premiere.  He has MUSES.  It's fascinating. Diane Keaton, Mia Farrow, Mariel Hemmingway...Scarlett Johanneson. He likes 'em young. And as I am writing this, I am conflicted because I literally LOVE his work, but he married his step daughter.

Ol' Woody's gotta be shitting his pants right now.  Given the CLIMATE and all.  Wonder if Bill Cosby is sweating?  Or have we forgotten about him?  He has over 40 women accusing him of drugging and raping them and he is a free man.

On the other hand, you can literally TWEET that someone sexually harassed you two decades ago and it is NEWS.  I am not discounting these women and men, I am simply trying to achieve a balance.

I was just in D.C. and took a few tours and basically, J. Edgar Hoover would just ADORE social media.

You can annihilate someone with a single post.

My goal, here, is twofold. And this is something I am struggling with...to, first, look at the inequality of everything and to examine if it is OKAY to ENJOY the work of someone who is a DIRTBAG?

And for those of you who are intellectuals, NO this is not an analogy for the current Presidency. Although, the recording of him saying to just "grab that pussy" came out BEFORE he was elected.  Put that in your pipe and smoke it.  Bill Clinton did.  Maybe it's better for you if you VAPE it.

OK. Back to my sexual harassment follies.

1. Mr. Taylor:  He would summon me to his office TWICE a week to turn the pages of house specs (They were huge.  Imagine like the ancient books in Raiders of the Lost Ark) that he had to initial in the corner and he would look down my blouse and laugh about doing such act to all the other males AND females in the room.  This was 1992.

2. Gary:  He was my boss at a newspaper and HE used to call me into his office and BULLSHIT for HOURS while he stared at my breasts and I fake laughed at his jokes that emanated out of his crooked, antibiotic stained front teeth (I asked him about it once. Couldn't help myself. Or maybe he offered it up. They were LOOONG seshes.)

Now, with GARY, I actually brought it up when Corporate came in to give us one of those "workshops about sexual harassment in the workplace".  His wife was HR.  Nothing happened.  I knew it wouldn't.  I don't mean to be a defeatist here but it was a different time.  He was, in his mind, just being HIM.  I offered up a hypothetical at the conference table during the seminar where he was not present, but his wife was.  It was MY way of fighting back, making he and his wife squirm, and I did it because I was ANGRY.  Angry at the fact that I had to ENDURE his bullshit to continue on with my day.

That being said, not ONE boss or interview I had ever had ended with a man masturbating in front of me or touching me, unless you count the Mexican restaurant I worked at in college where they would regularly press themselves against me when they handed me my Spanish homework.  I'm joking.

They TOTALLY pressed themselves against me, just not after they handed me my Spanish homework.  Just when I had to lean over to get chips out of the warmer and pretty much any time we were in a small space.

I had this conversation with Hallie, my eldest, on her sixteenth birthday trip to D.C., her happy place, besides Disney World, that is.

"Make no mistake," I said, over lunch at The Old Ebbitt Grill, an institution in Washington, "There is a distinct difference between someone who made their employees uncomfortable by being a PIG 20 years ago, and an actual PREDATOR that masturbates, gropes and rapes it's victims because they are in a position of power."

Gawd their food is good.

Look, dialogue is important, and it raises awareness,  and a predator is a predator is a predator, but let's spread equality and fairness across our swift persecution and be sure to include predators past.

I just LOVE that inappropriate bosses are forced to reexamine.  It doesn't really bother me that retired folks are being self-reflective.  You have to understand, too, that this was a different time.  When I look back, I am more disgusted by Gary than Mr. Taylor.  You know why?  Because everyone in the room with Mr. Taylor understood that he was never going to change, including his son, who would also be in the room from time to time.

I wonder if HE does the same today.  Sitting in his father's big, imposing desk, ripping people off who can barely afford to rent, with the dream of a big, prefab house.  Maybe he's listening now because the CLIMATE has changed, but let's not tarnish his father's memory by all this talk of breasts and pages and laughter, right?

See how powerful that can be?  It reduces a person to a moment.  My inner turmoil comes from those that were a product of their time and they were extremely inappropriate and those that are TRULY damaged and dangerous.

So, in D.C., Hallie and I went to the night tours of the Capital.  You go in a bus and you have a tour guide that gives you both important and anecdotal information on all of the nation's most famous landmarks and memorials.  It is a MUST DO if you go.  We lucked out and got an amazingly young black tour guide.  They all know each other, as they would high five each other in passing. 

Chistopher explained, " I am new at this so please, please review me on Trip Advisor.  It is a tour guide's life blood." 

He was hip and energetic and involved and informed.  He is the epitome of who I want the next generation to be.

It is awe inspiring.  It really is.

At one point, we were outside the White House on one of the last stops, late at night, and a dude with dreadlocks and ear buds buzzed by during one of Christopher, our guide's, soliloquies, with his music blaring and his middle finger in the air as her strolled by the fence separating the President's residence and a park and we all had to laugh, right?  Our tour guide was all, "Welcome to the White House".

We also went to the White House, BTW, through our Congressman's office and I was detained, of course.  It was very dramatic.  I was almost executed.  Ask Hallie.

If I am honest with myself, I was compliant in the sexual harassment.  Sure, I may have staged a small coo, but at the time, the "law" was not on my side.  I appreciate that everyone is so open now and I applaud those that are speaking out, but you cannot speak out of both sides of your mouth.

You CANNOT, say, ENJOY the mighty who have fallen and still respect the work, or can you?  JFK.  He had orgies in the White House pool and was an infamous womanizer, yet he is lauded and did great work.  He literally changed the social landscape of this country.

Obsessed.

Are you uncomfortable yet? Because I am.

Equally obsessed.  What a STRONG ASS woman.  This was at the NEWSEUM.  I MUST SEE. The exhibits are mesmerizing. A definite highlight.  We spent HOURS there.  I could not get ENOUGH.

By reaching back into history, and outing these people it is empowering, and it is informative, but it can also be unfair and I'm talking harassment here, not assault, because the person you are accusing is on the cross, unable to defend themselves and the time.

In today's world, we TWEET transgressions and then the transgressions TWEET back and then no one stands a chance.

Is it any coincidence that Ronan Farrow is leading this charge?  Woody Allen was in his family.  He has an ax to grind. And he should, but we need to level out the playing field.  It appears persecution via social media has replaced the good ol' fashioned justice system.  And why is THAT?  Perhaps it is because the justice system has failed victims in the past and social media is the victim's new platform. And that is FIIINNE, as long as it is fair.

Everything has changed so quickly, yet stayed the same.  We are all so paranoid, and we should be, it is our new reality, whyyyy I was just at Reagan Airport when Hallie and I were in the bathroom and an officer yelled in to "GET OUT!   There is a threat! And brought his bomb sniffing German Shepard in while we waited in line to wash our hands.

Now there is nothing more filthy than an airport in my mind and as I laid my hand on the small of Hallie's back and told her to run, not walk as far away from the bathroom as we could get, I couldn't help thinking of all the smut on my hands.

It is a new World order.  In every sense of the word.  Constant information and stress and confusion about what is real and what is not.

Think about the word THREAT and what feelings that conjures up.  It makes me feel vulnerable and exposed because it is VAGUE.  With social media, anyone can do anything they want to do to you with total anonymity.  And that is not fair.  It is not JUST.  And Justice is what our nation's very principle was found on.

The Constitution is a set of laws that was put into action because people needed to know what to trust.  Something to refer to, when they feel THREATENED.  Something to believe in. I don't know about you, but I don't trust anything anymore.  I have always been the eternal skeptic, but today's world has brought this to a whole new level.

I have three girls and they TALK.  They tell me everything.  I know shit about people I don't even KNOW and I always ask them when they offer up some salacious anecdotal information to consider the source.

But what source do YOU trust these days?  The Hollywood Reporter?  The New York Times?  CNN? FOX? The President? Your Congressman?

I'm going to leave you with a few quotes on the walls of the Martin Luther King Memorial that struck a cord with me.  What a visionary.  Truly.  He was a THINKER.  He was a REVOLUTIONARY.  And best of all, he was a DECENT HUMAN BEING in his personal life and that used to mean something.

He had CHARACTER. Remember what that was like?  More than formidable, more than distinguished, more than even respected and respectful.

Character is defined as "the inherent complex of attributes that determines a persons moral and ethical actions and reactions."

Conversely, PREDATOR is defined as "a person or a group that ruthlessly exploits others".  That is pretty broad.  Does the word "ruthlessly" make that person more menacing?  Or do his/her BEHAVIOR define the action?

Here is what Doctor Martin Luther King has to say:

I think we all want justice, don't we?

They left this one.  The memorial is three stones.  His memorial of his likeness is the middle one.  The others rough.  Magical to see.  Poetic, really.

I like pics with people in it.  Hallie was happy to oblige.  This is her favorite memorial.  The detail is unparalleled.  

Words to live by.  Who thinks like this anymore?  It is all just rhetoric at this point.

They have since removed this quote because "people felt it was too arrogant".  I don't know who these people were.  I am assuming it was the family.  If it was anyone else, they are assholes.

GUIDANCE:  Go to D.C.  Take your children.  Take your parents.  Everyone has a different reaction, but a reaction just the same.  Not the kind of reaction you get from a twitter feed or an Instagram post, but a visceral reaction to all that affects the senses.

All of these people died for you.  Respect their memory.  Be a better American.  We are extremely lucky to live in this country, but ultimately it is up to us to make it a country we are proud to live in.  We owe it to THEM and we owe it to ourselves and our children.  It's LEGACY time, y'all.  Look backward and look forward.  My daughter has hit REFRESH for me on how important HISTORY is and I am truly grateful for that.    Thanks Poppy for the hotel points.  We wish you could have been with us.

Massage Parlours and Blankets on a Lawn

I'm making out like the whole night was a big buzzkill...quite the opposite.

Soooooo... recently I made the mistake of telling my tennis pro about getting a massage at a "massage parlour" that just popped up in our neighborhood.  I should have left that image to his imagination, but on not ONE, but TWO occasions during what should be a typical middle aged clinic on a Tuesday at 1:00, turned into me SIMULATING said massage, only THIS time, Keith was ME, and IIIIII was the tiny Asian woman who accosted me on that FINE Sunday afternoon.

Allright, let's back up. I sometimes like to mess with people on Facebook at night when I am bored. (Not as much, anymore, considering how SENSITIVE everyone is) but from time to time I will post shit that entertains me, or make fun of people who I encounter on vacation, or whatever.  Who cares, right?  I ain't looking' fo' no JOB! Not yet, anyway. Still waiting to be discovered like a super model in an airport.  Where do all the literary scouts hang out?  Not blogger.com, apparently.

Aaanyway, a little bit ago I was avoiding my kids by going by myself to PIADA at 2:00 in the afternoon on a SUNDAY, and this sign caught my eye, as it had a hundred times before, when I was escaping my family to hang out by myself on a weekend.  

A new Asian Massage place had opened up in between the neighborhood toy store and deli at the twin strip mall beside Piada's. The shades are all drawn, and they have this cheesy banner announcing their new residence, flanked by Easy Living, this German delicatessan that makes my stomach turn, but my husband finds both nostalgic and delicious, and then there is like a BOUTIQUE toy store.

My neighbor and I were discussing it one day and he (this is second source, y'all, a source close to the subject) had been binging on Shameless as of late, and suggested that the "relaxing massage place" was run by Easy Living employees and they would run over in the middle of making sandwiches and give massages.

Which brings me to my SOURCE.

A professional writer NEVER reveals a source.

Not too long ago,  my source and I went to Louisville together to see The Lumineers.  The venue was amazing.  I was in my HOMETOWN,  and we had an absolute BALL!  It was fun to show someone I really care about where I grew up.  I don't get to do that very often anymore.

I kept telling my source that we needed to bring blankets because it was a grassy knoll type sitch, and the bitchy source ACTUALLY said to me, " I can't REMEMBER the last time I sat down at a concert."

And then we exited my Dad's car, cause he gave us a ride, natch, and it was a SEA of fucking  blankets and quilts creating a picturesque patchwork on the grassy knoll disappearing into the Ohio River.  I am talking LIT bridges in the background, and various boats docked in the bay to the right, all partying and listening to the free music.

"In MY opinion," I pointed out to the boats, addressing the source, "THAT is the best seat in the house.  And you were wrong about the blanket.  Big Time." I said for what would end up being forty-five times that evening.

The source then got us two vodkas a piece and we sat down on  a square of grass in between all the blankets and I bitched intermittently for a good 30 minutes about my drinks melting and the rash I was about to get.  Good times.

The venue boasted various food trucks and liquor stations at every turn. It was magical.  I can't wait to go back.

 I still bitched about the blanket whenever I could.  I would ask those of us around us what fabric their blanket was made of and if it felt good on the backs of their bare legs.  I was relentless.

Finally, the source tried to buy me a Lumineers blanket (that I was told I could also"drape over my couch" by the douchy couple behind us, which also admitted to "owning a blanket for  EVERY concert they had ever been to" because it was "their thing"), but they were SOLD OUT to every OTHER dumbass source that FORGOT theirs, OR needed another reminder on their furniture that they went to a concert.

SOOOO naturally I needed a massage after I got home from the Lumineers concert and my belly was full of Piada, sooooo I thought I would finally stake out our new bordello and, in turn, take the untraceable cash I had earned from my ticket sales from the concert (I had extra) to get an otherwise undocumented massage. Until now.

I'm exaggerating.  I had been super curious since they opened, boasting their "relaxion" when I was just trying get a birthday present for a kid that was having a party in 10 min.

At first, it was RECON work for Facebook, but then it turned into something DARK and UGLY, or SPONTANIOUS...AMAZING...and eventually, HABIT FORMING.

I went in and asked if they had any specials, like ANY investigative journalist would do.  The young girl at the podium deferred me to the madam, I mean, the proprietor. She showed me the price list which is published below.

I went back out to my car after taking the pic.  I sat there a full five minutes, I shit you not.  And then finally I was like, FUCK IT, I REALLY want a massage.

I go back in and I am matched up with a 60-year-old Asian lady.  I get necked.

Let me break this down for you.  You have a, I don't know, HAND towel covering your ass, and then the front when you flip over.  She totally manhandles you in the sense that there is no "comfort zone" type conversing, like you might get at a resort.  You just kinda do what she says and you hope that the place does not get raided while you are there.

This all sounds sexual, but it wasn't at all.  It was, um...how should I put it, both mortifying and gratifying at the same time.  Wait. That is sounding sexual again.  Being that we are in the throws of  another Fifty Shades moment and all.

It was a great massage without the pomp and circumstance of it all.  There was a plastic rose on my pillow when I first entered the room for Christ's sake.  There were no candles and you could hear the Lane Avenue traffic outside because YOU GUESSED IT - there was no music.  I'll just bring my earbuds next time, I thought to myself.

I went to a back alley massage, without having to lock my car with the freshly purchased kite and one of those stuffed animals with the big eyes in the front seat from the adjacent Toy Store, as my cover.  "See these presents, muthafuckas," I think to myself, the baby oil segregating the baby hairs into clumps at the nape of my neck as I get into my SUV, "that's my muthafuckin' ALIBI."

I've got layers of guidance today, y'all.  Check out CAAMP, the BAND.  It is not a new obsession of mine, but one that needs to be shared and appreciated. They are still relatively small so they go to really cool venues.
Click HERE: http://www.caamptheband.com  

They also have a Insta, so you can track them like I do, like the filthy cougar I am.  They are being billed as an "organic" band  (because they are just two guys that came together to write and perform really great music as opposed to be "manufactured" by the industry, I guess) and they have been on a serious tour of the South and the East Coast for the last six months with the equally cool Rainbow Kitten Surprise.  The next leg of their tour is West. Follow them any way you can.  They are worth it.  

Just give me street cred when they make it BIG!

And while I'm on the subject, make plans to sit on a lawn this summer, under the stars, while you listen to great music, but don't forget your blanket, or you will regret it, especially if you bring me.

Oh, and get a back alley massage, especially if you can find one in full view of the most popular pizza place in town.  Be sure to do it on a Sunday, too, when said pizza place has a line out the door.

And then post THIS to make it seem like the last hour never happened.

Just covering my tracks.

You have to PROCESS before you heal

Okay, so I have been wanting to post for a long time about the election and whatnot, but NOW I have just posted on every social media I know a rather political statement, even though I am not in the least bit committed to either of the previous candidates.

I got a bunch of LIKES, boo.  It's AAIIGHT.

B made me take it down on Facebook because he has "clients" and the like.  He said I could do INSTA and TWITTER, so I did.  That's a lie.  I just UNTAGGED him for like 6 hours, and then deleted.  RUUUSPECT!  To the middle class, y'all.  Am I RIGHT?

My friend, we'll just call her, Jen, and I were going over the election last week and we send each other GIF's and twitter memes all the time and shit and she sent me one that was as follows:

I can't wait to see the finale of America

Isn't that TRUE?  Our fucking president became FAMOUS by hosting a reality show.  He is an amazing businessman, I mean, that's what EVARAYBODY says.  But, ultimately we have now become a bonafide product of our fucked up society.

Don't get me wrong.  I am not mad about Trump and I do not stand with Hillary.  I'm NOT with her.  You know why?  Because I don't RELATE to her. But I sure as hell am not with HIM either.

My only hope is that Donald Trump realized a long time ago that the Kanye West promotion plan was the one that would elect him president and that underneath it all he has a "publicity side" and a practical side.  We will just have to see, I guess.  My glass is half full.  You have to go forward with what you have, and what you have been given, or you will drown.  

Okay, let's review.  Here are the things that peaked my interest during the election, especially right down to the end.  And so bare with me here because what I focus on, and what the media and most other people concentrate on, are entirely different.  I basically view the World through a SNL filter, and am constantly scripting skits I want them to do on the following week's episode.  My focal points were as follows:

The people in California and the celebrities that represent them have NO IDEA what is going on in the rest of the country.  

They may TOUR, or have Twitter followers from other states, but in general, and I just LOVES to generalize, they REALLY have NO IDEA that the REST of the country are all thinking, feeling human beings with various circumstances, opportunities and hardships that may affect our views on politics and human nature.

I mean, I would be MESMERIZED by incessant Instagram Posts and Netflix shows (Chelsea) that just made the ASSUMPTION that America was going to elect Hillary.

They underestimated the amount of rednecks that would crush their Budlight tallboy, throw it into the fire with the ball of asbestos they just found, to you know, "boost the engine" and peel out in their American made pick up with a mess of their friends and VOTE GAWDDDAMMMIT!

I can say this.  I was raised in Kentucky.  I just KNEW, like all of us rednecks know, that there was a shift in the air, and that Trump was gonna pull this off. Only,  I feel like I was just dropped into the middle of Ricky Bobby's dinner, only THIS IS REALITY, y"all!  

But, it was not just THIS group that came out in droves.  It is the silent Trump voter (many of them close friends and family) that also helped Trump surge in the election.  Thoughtful, FEELING human beings that I respect and value their opinions, that voted for Trump.  They just will never admit it in a public forum.  

They just whisper and nudge each other, trying to feel each other out at parties and games, and then they are either rebuked and slink away or they are bonded to those people, well, at least for the next four years.  I've seen it happen time after time, with my OWN friends even.  Silent Trump voters hated Hillary so much and were so sick of her bullshit that they were willing to roll the dice and see what happens.  Two terms of Obama have just sucked the life out of them and they are looking for a good time.  

It's kind of like the parties you have after finals week, where you made bad decision after bad decision, but you don't care because you are ready for a change and everyone else is doing it.  You are about to break up for the summer and everyone will forget how wasted you were the night before you went home from college.  

What I am saying is that the Silent Trumpers' reasoning was not that Trump was the OBVIOUS choice, he was the ONLY choice in their minds.  And I get that.  I do. She is a career criminal, like all politicians are, and that is why we elected Trump.  We are sick of the status quo.  We want to shake things up!  We are intrigued.  We want to be entertained.  And we are gamblers.

This is who we are.

I feel bad for Hillary, I do, because she's dedicated her life to becoming President and politics and public service and she is DONE. I would say for GOOD, this time.

Just don't forget that she has been in the public eye for a reason.  She has been not only in politics, but in Government, her entire adult life.  

I keep waiting for my kids to learn in school about Bill Clinton and the impeachment and the red dress and the cigar and Kenneth Starr.

That is when everything turned in America and paved the way for a voice over of Trump, our President Elect, to profess to a very nerdy, desperate Billy Bush, that he liked to "grab that pussy".

The cigar in the oval office paved the way for the media to report the bus conversation, in regard to politics. 

My point is that the media is to blame for how disgusting and nasty everything has become.  The media is the reason why we KNOW about Monica's dress and Trump's pussy comment, because they CHOSE to report it as NEWS.  And if they were doing it to inform everyone about the nature of a candidate's integrity, then I understand. But was it really that?  Or was it sensationalism.  Sex sells.  

It's no longer, if it BLEEDS, it leads.  It is a matter of if it tantalizes, it boosts ratings. Kennedy was a womanizer.  Our beloved Reagan had Alzeimers his last term.  These are FACTS.  But, they are immortalized and heralded.  

You wanna know why?  Because of their policies.  That is why.  

Sooooo, at this point, moving forward, how does America keep it KLASSY?

Any ideas?

I'm at a loss.

That reminds me.  Sully is a great movie.

Oh, WAIT, we have Melania, who is a dead ringer for Svetlana on Shameless.  (And if you don't watch it, you should.  It's on Netflix for Gawd's sake.  No excuses.)  

She, and her character are amazing.  I follow her on INSTA, natch.

Ol' gurl gonna GLAM that White House UP!  Apparently, Cyberbullying is her platform.  She is the silver lining on this whole thing. 

So funny.  I have a picture similar to that with each of my babies.  I just couldn't WAIT to put my heels back on.  I used to breastfeed in heels, with EACH one of them, I assure you.

I might just dedicate an entire four years of blogging about Svetlana, I mean, Melania.  Can you imagine Michelle Obama's garden next Spring?  Svetlana ain't gonna plow.  I hope she excavates it and creates a pond for exotic fish for her weirdo Droid-like son who wears monochromatic suits.  That's mean.  It's not HIS fault.  He wasn't BORN into this life.  Oh, yes he was.

AIIGHT.  She didn't choose this life.  She just thought the Don was a meal ticket out of Slovenia, not the President of the United States, Ruler of the Free World.  She just wanted jets and gold and clothes and a warm bath.

Now, Miss Slovenia will be hosting State Dinners and decorating the White House.  It's ON.  She no speaka da Engleeeas.

She's fat.

Here's ANOTHER point of interest, what about Alec Baldwin?  He was Trump on SNL for the last, like eight weeks.  He HAS to continue.  WE NEED IT.

Oh, Oh, here's another thing...Trump has had THREE baby mommas!  Remember when you could assassinate someone's political character because they weren't married or were getting a divorce?  Hilarious.  For some reason Trump is exempt from all of that scrutiny that his supporters and voters (they are two separate groups, see above) have previously subjected all other candidates in history to. 

Remember Howard Dean's red faced rebel yell that had him lose the election?

Remember Palin and how uninformed she was?  She would've been LEADER OF THE FREE WORLD, y'all, if something happened to Cain. 

What about Cain and his creepy Hersheys Syrup or catsup airess wife or whatever who seemed to me had not had a real conversation with each other in a decade, let alone a real marriage.  

Wait, I'm not done. Mitt Romney basically lost the last election because he was caught on video telling rich voters that the rest of the country isn't like THEM - the THEM being the rich and powerful.  Well, the rednecks HEARD that loud and clear and now the new THEM is the Trump supporter.  

CHANGE.  This is what Obama promised.  And this is what TRUMP promised.  And we crave it.  Everyone does.  It is the American way.  We get bored and tired and we need to change it up, beeaches.  

It's just the Redneck's turn.  Truly.  They have fist pumped their way to the White House and they are enjoying their moment.  Let them.  They are fucking OPRESSED, y'all.  And they have a voice, a voice that demands attention...and it did.  


Baldwin has put a few things up on his Twitter about moving forward and shit.  I'm pretty sure New York City didn't have a clue about the unrest in this country, either.

At any rate, whether you were Pro Hillary, Anti-Hillary, Anti-Trump or Gawd forbid Pro-Trump, we are at an impasse.

We just have to adjust.  Daddy and Momma are splittin' up and Daddy got a new FIIINNNEEE FIANCE and they moving' into a NEW HOUSE, y'all.

I have heard from people that I respect that the Trump you see on TV and the private Trump are two different people.  Pence is one of those who professes this, for whom I have tremendous respect.  JK.

I don't know.  I am in AWE of Joan Rivers and she and the DON were TIGHT, right?  She won one of his seasons.  

My advice today is to learn to PROCESS, before you heal.  No matter WHO you are, but I guess if I am being honest, I mean hard core LIBERALS and hard core HILLARY supporters.

Obama shook EVARAYTHANG up, and the country is not ready for a woman president.  Not her, anyway.  If that were the case, then she would have WON because we women would have come out in DROVES to support her.  We currently represent FIFTY-FIVE percent of the total vote in this piece.  

She wasn't RIGHT.  Obama WAS right for the black vote.  It was the perfect match of intelligence and behavior.  And he was a STELLAR representation of what KLASS looks like in the White House, no matter how you slice it.  

Oh well...let's just hope for the best.  We're 'Merica y'all!

The Night of...and Feeling Uncomfortable

He is such a BABE.  Big, BIG career after this.  Amazing performance.

I've recently just diagnosed myself with GSAD.  Otherwise known as Generalized Social Anxiety Disorder.

I'm not sure if this is specific to myself, but I would be willing to bet, that it's not just me.  Again, you are WELCOME.

I am going to divulge something that you all feel at one time or another, but you can secretly read this and relate in the privacy of your own bathroom.

Anyway, with GSAD, there are definitely TRIGGERS.  Situations, people, some say outfits...whatever, PRIOR EXPERIENCES shape your consciousness and then BOOM, something is THRUST upon you and you just DEAL the best way you know how.  MYYYYY coping mechanism is inappropriate ANYTHING.  You name it, from  giggling to falling asleep... there are a plethora of reactions that I am not proud of when coping with GSAD.

Look, I am FINE, when I am with my people, but when I am subjected to being in a crowd of people I don't know very well, and don't know me-I have a hard time.

I tell my girls all the time that the most attractive thing about someone is confidence.  If you can achieve that, then you are golden.  But then again, if you have an insecurity, come sit by me, because I will instantly make you feel better.

How do you instill that?  Better yet, how do you achieve that?  Is anyone familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy?  If you studied Psychology, you do.  You see, basically he invented a PYRAMID in which you try and "climb the ladder" to self-actualization in order to be the best version of yourself.  The problem with all of this is that it is a universal model and we are all so different, aren't we?  Or are we?


When you live in a suburb, it feels like EVARYONE has the same set of circumstances, No?  But, we don't.  We couldn't possibly.

I still want EXPERIENCES, don't you?  Or do you?

HBO has a new series that makes me uncomfortable.  It is called "The Night Of".  I have actually read articles about it, it is so powerful.  It is a social commentary, at the very least, and at it's best, it is a work of art.

I know what you are thinking.  Seriously?  I have Netflix to get back to.  But, this is different.  And disappointing.  And UNCOMFORTABLE.

Now, look, I feel like a get a free pass, here, because I was a social worker in Denver for a year.  This was the TRENCHES, yo. My clients were literally the people that hold signs up on the exits of inner city belts.  I know this because they TOLD me that if they stood on the corners of inner belt exits to neighborhoods they could make the most money - more than I made, they would laugh.  They were mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, and grandparents, and children. None of which, and consequently, ALL of which, has influenced the way at which I view EVERYTHING and NOTHING.

I was there when the penal and justice system were at it's BEST, and also when it was at it's WORST.

It's just a great experience to have, though, because it gives you perspective.  Being a server at four Mexican restaurants impacted me about the same, I'll be honest, but I digress.

I quit when a sixteen-year-old heroin addict inadvertently killed herself.  That was the end.  I could take no more.  The telephone call with her father following the funeral was too much for me to bear.

I didn't go to the funeral.  I found out after the fact.  She had gone off of my radar and my caseload was immense.

They had struggled with her for years.  She was what they call a "Dual Diagnosis" which means that she self-medicated because she struggled with mental illness.

When I met her at intake, she was in the Psych Ward at a local hospital because she had tried to commit suicide with a pair of dull scissors.

She didn't stand a chance.

But what if this was YOUR child? Hallie is about to turn 15 next month.

Her father was remarried and a surgeon.  They had had subsequent children.  She was unsafe, volatile.

It seems a world away now.  But, I bet it isn't for him.

She made him and his family UNCOMFORTABLE.  And so was I.  You never knew what she was going to do.

Given this social psychology experiment in my mid-twenties,  it gave me great empathy with a healthy dose of skepticism.  Almost ALL of my clients were on the take, but then there would be that ONE or TWO that made your job worth it. I am not judging the ones on the take.  It was learned.  And they were SURVIVING.

While I was a social worker, my boss's teenage daughter was in a car accident with some friends in the mountains when she thought her daughter was staying at a friend's house.  In her defense, not that she needs one, she had just been fired because apparently she was "inappropriate  at the office."  (We were social workers.  No less than 10 inappropriate things happened or were said on my watch.)  She was also a recovering addict - 15 years sober - and was probably "looking the other way" during her termination when her daughter asked to stay the night at a friend's house.

I'll never forget HER former boss expressing concern about her sobriety during calling hours.  She'd just "been through so much" the asshole lamented.  She looks "medicated".  This coming from a woman with zero children and zero addiction experience, with the exception of text books and seminars.

When I think back upon it all, it makes me sick.  But it also makes me STRONG.

Because that is what adverse experiences do to you.  They make you stronger.

That is, if you choose to internalize them.  And if you don't, then I can't relate.

So, if you have the chance to watch "The Night Of" on HBO.  Do it.  It will make you uncomfortable.  And not in the way that Parent Night does at the middle school, where I can't figure out if I should do a clasping wave or a prom queen wave in the hall to the other parents, but in a way that life can turn on a dime, and people change, and adapt, no matter what their upbringing or specific set of life skills.

It is a WhoDunIt with a message, so don't miss it.  You just never know when life will take a turn and the repercussions reverberate outward, and then each person with their own special set of circumstances are then affected, and it is up to them how they will cope.

This set of coping mechanisms defines us, and thus, creates a trajectory upon which we internalize and then project our feelings about a specific situation.

To dumb it down, and it is what I am always telling my children when they approach me with some bullshit (again, THREE GURLS, here), I ask them to consider the source and where the person is coming from.

We are all very complicated beings.  With all of the hoopla and the posturing that goes on society today, it is difficult to discern what is real.

"The Night Of" is not only an exploration of the judicial system, but an exploration of Mankind, and how we are so quick to label people based on the situation they are in.  There is a big bad World out there that is absolutely wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time. I would rather explore it and examine it for all of it's horrors and ecstasy.

Looking back, I wish I had been a better social worker, better equipped to deal with what was thrown my way, but at the same time, I am so grateful for the experience.  Not a "through the looking glass" type of experience, but a REAL one, where I got to have a real understanding of people and what makes them tick.

No matter how different we all are, we are the sum of our experiences.  You may embrace them or reject them.  That is your choice.  It basically is about what you are willing to let in, and what you need to protect yourself from.  Everyone's thresholds are different. And that doesn't make anyone better or worse for the battle.

I try not to throw stones when I live in a glass house, and I prefer that you do the same.  That is, if you are being honest with yourself.

Insert MIC DROP here.

Coincidentally, posthumous, Gandolfini produced the series.  I hope
Turturro isn't up against Nas for a Globe, because Nas will lose.