the feminization of the american male

someone needs to write a handbook for the american male. clearly he has no ability to figure things out for himself. please list the what’s appropriate when where . . . he doesn’t need to know why, he is clearly unable to understand the whys of anything. then require men to memorize these rules before he can go out in public. women can do all the jobs and they can take care of the men. men can stay home and be barefoot in the kirchen. hail to the women who now rule america. what do men have to do with anything anymore except to understand the correction given frequently and swiftly by women.      i take it as a given that men can no longer instigate sex, but must wait for the woman and then must always comply?


The Future Looks Good

I substitute teach once in awhile. Yesterday I was at a high school and was impressed by the serious students I encountered.

At lunchtime two young ladies, who are seniors, were discussing how happy they are this year. I asked about their plans for next year. Both are interested in Pediatrics. Both of them want to become Pediatric doctors . . . one even spoke of being a surgeon, while the other spoke of working with Doctors Without Borders. (I have a map of the world on my wall at home that I got from the    organization. It says they go where conditions are worst . . . places others are not going). Can you imagine a young person with such aspirations?

Sometimes I’ve worried about the future of the world. If you look at outrageous things that are posted in the news . . . if you think about how Serena Williams behaved and the effect it must have had on her young opponent’s enjoyment of her own “win”, you wonder . . . but then Serena is not a young person with aspirations and dreams. She’s found her niche and played well. The young person who beat her in the competition . . . look at that . . . while I remember Serena’s name, that young person’s name has eluded me. Let me look it up.

Naomi Osaka

And in finding that, I read that Naomi Osaka interviews well. She does sound that way to me:

Consider Osaka’s demeanor and think about the two young women I spoke with during lunch yesterday, and you will know that the future looks bright.

Relax and don’t worry about the earth and your grandbabies’ future. There are still plenty of young people who exemplify greatness and great dreams. There are millennials who are far better than the older folks give them credit for being.

The Minimum Wage has stagnated for nine years. It was last raised to $7.25 an hour in 2009. Could you live on $290 a week? Do you blame millennials for complaining? I do not. Even the ones who go on to get a College Degree end up with such large loan payments per month that they also cannot get ahead. Those payments are often higher than the graduate’s car payments.

But in the midst of all this, there is hope for the future. It’s time to let these shining young people carry on.


I had an English Shepherd. Her name was Magic. I moved my three children and me to a house next to some woods. I came home one day from work . . . it was on a Saturday and I was working at NCCU as a tutor. I worked Monday through Friday as a teacher with Durham Public Schools and Saturdays as a tutor on the campus of NCCU. On Sundays I did laundry. It was a grueling schedule.

I took the English Shepherd, Magic, out before I left and told my sons not to let her out. I’d take her when I got back. She was in heat. I know I needed to have her spayed, but believe me, there were things far more needed for a single mom than to have the dog spayed at that time in my life. She’d been in heat before. I’d been careful. She’d be fine.

Magic came running to greet me when I pulled into the driveway. I was not happy. I brought her back in the house with me and fussed with my sons for her being outside. The oldest was in charge that Saturday. I thought he knew better. He said she really wanted to go out. I told him I bet she did.

Fast forward nine weeks later, and Magic had the prettiest litter of puppies I’d ever seen. I kept the black one. My youngest wanted to name her “Moon” for the crescent moon shape she had on her chest. I intended to do that, but my mother had had two dogs . . . a brown one she called Brownie and a white one she called Whitey. So, to tease my son, I said I was going to call her Blackie. Problem was, the name stuck.

I’d had that dog since the day she was born. She was my dog and she only wanted me. She would go for a walk with my sons, but she’d glance back at me as they left the house like we both knew I should be walking her.

She was born in August 2000. I mentioned the woods beside the house because most of the puppies appeared to be products of Magic and hunting dogs. Blackie’s dad must have been small because she only grew to be half the size of Magic.

I moved to this house in 2011. About a year after I moved here, I bought a rosebush and planted it by the front porch. Every morning when I’d take Blackie out, she’d go to that rosebush and pee on it. Sometimes she’d walk around it and pee three times. I fusssed (gently) with her and told her she was going to kill my rosebush. To my surprise, it flourished and had the most beautiful roses every summer.

On June 4, 2018, I lost Blackie. She was old and sickly, but she’d have good days and we still went for short walks. She continued to pee on my rose bush every morning and it continued to bloom.

Since Blackie died, the rose bush has almost stopped blooming. I tried watering it and cutting off the dead roses. I think like me, it misses Blackie more than it can bear. She was seventeen, almost eighteen years old. I had her since the day she was born.

I just realized, as I sat here grieving . . . I just took my other dog out and glanced at the half dead rose bush. “Oh, Blackie, if you were only here to pee on it,” I said. I imagine it will die soon. But she’s been gone four months today. It seems like such a short time, but I guess it’s really been four whole months without her. I don’t think I’ll ever adjust to not having her with me.


Everybody’s Time and Place Is Not The Same

I get tired of reading about people who make stupid mistakes and then feel like it’s their lifework to make sure the rest of us don’t do what they did.

I don’t need that woman whose baby drowned in the pool to tell me that if there’s a pool in the backyard, knowing exactly where my toddler is at all times is necessary. I already know that one.

Then there’s the folks who leave their kids in the backseat to bake to death while they do whatever caused them to forget the child was with them when they got out of the car. I got that one covered too. For one thing I was always a verbal mother. I talked to my kids because I had things to tell them, and what better way than when they’re trapped in the car with me? But I knew to get them out of the car when I got myself out.

There was a young boy who dived headfirst into two feet of water when I was a child. He lived in my hometown. The first few times my grandmother told me about him, I “got it”. She didn’t have to (but she did) tell me every time she’d see him in his wheelchair what had happened to him and how I should never dive into water unless I’d stood in it and knew how deep it was. Ok. Got it. Got it the first hundred times.

One recent thing that’s happened and been in the news is about women who have waited 30 or 36 years to tell about being sexually molested. Hopefully this is a reminder to all women/girls not to wait that long to tell it. For one thing, especially if there could be another reason you’re just now bringing this up, it makes you less credible. Hopefully that has been figured out without my having to say it, but the way other folks state the obvious . . . maybe not?

Does It Matter When You Sleep?

Not if you’re retired.

I just awoke from a delicious nap.  I woke up tired and cranky and feeling poorly this morning.  I struggled through the morning thinking that when bedtime came, I would be GLAD.

And then I took a nap. I had 2 or 3 hours of uninterrupted, high quality sleep and find myself back up singing and dancing in the kitchen as I cook dinner.

One of the things no one told me about retirement was the value and availability of naps.

Emotional Manipulation

I’m so tired of trying to find out what’s going on in the news today and instead being met with what I call emotional manipulation . . . or the attempt thereof.

Here’s the first one. Hurricane Maria’s death toll rose last year after the hurricane ended. This is to make me mad with Donald Trump for saying the death totals from that hurrican were exaggerated. Note the date of that hurricane. It’s been over a year. The hurricane, according to what is trying to pass as a “news” article, hit September 20, 2017. Many of the folks being claimed as “victims” of the hurricane died from bedsores. They were already sick and bedridden, but somehow the hurricane caused them to die from their ailments.

Looks like they’re expecting Tiger Woods to improve his golf game. That will rock my world, I’m sure.

Here’s another one. A ferry in Tanzania collapsed two days ago and they are pulling dead bodies still from it. It was overloaded with probably 300 people. Well, I would expect they’d still be pulling dead bodies from it. Their President is ordering the arrest of those responsible for its sinking. I would assume it was caused by all those people who crowded onto it and caused it to collapse. I’m sure he’ll find a scapegoat.

Then there’s the Minnesota Lawmaker whose daughter is saying he touched her inappropriately 12 years ago, so he’s quitting his campaign. And Ronald Reagan’s daughter says she was sexually abused 40 years ago. Then there’s the un-ending saga of Christine Blasey Ford who claims a Supreme Court nominee groped her at a high school party when they were teenagers 36 years ago. She can’t remember where it took place or how many people were present . . . sounds like it was her and four or five drunk boys, according to her story. It was all their fault that it happened, she says. She just was there for the party.

Here’s someone who supposedly had sex with a 16 year old girl and is being flown back from Taiwan to the US to answer charges.

Carrie Underwood is pregnant with baby number 2.

I wonder what’s happening in Russia? I wonder what the Germans are doing?

I saw Japan had landed a rover on an asteroid. I didn’t even know they had a space program. First I’ve heard of it.

How about China? Once in awhile they’ll tell us China is angry with Trump’s new tariffs, but that’s emotions again. IF they’re angry, what are they doing about it? Or am I to be angry with Chinese because some writer says the Chinese is angry with my country?

He said, she said, writers said and take our word for it is the news today. I miss current events. Do the rest of you remember how we’d discuss current events in school? If I’d brought in the article about Carrie Underwood being pregnant with her second baby, my teacher would have said “what’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?” Well, I dunno . . . you’d need to ask Trump about that.

I’m not being willfully ignorant. I’m just not able to find out what’s going on in the world today. It’s a scary feeling.




Do You See What I See?

You may have cataracts. You may have failing vision as you age. But you will be able to see things so much more clearly when you’re old that you did not see well before.

No one wants to listen to the “wisdom” of the aged population, but if they knew what we could see about life at the end of ours, they’d be begging to know what we can see now.

Do you see what I see? if you’re an older person, you probably do.