reality bites

i have been on a hiatus until recently- life has a way of getting its own way- and consequently, have been out of the loop. and, i have been a bit tired of late and not always on the top of my game- but even i honed in on this one:

associated press demands bloggers cease using excerpts

bush and brown dine with rupert murdoch

rupert murdoch appointed to ap board

if that doesn’t spell out where freedom of the press went, i really don’t know what does.

father’s day was this past weekend- and i want to go on record as saying i hate all holidays. no, i am not a killjoy- but every single holiday comes with a gift attached. it isn’t about celebrating- it’s about spending. i am beyond angry with my inlaws right now because they made a point to tell my sister-in-law that they didn’t think my husband was going to call for father’s day. why? why would he be such a horrible son? i have no idea but i think it’s because their card is late. i say tough sh**. my husband calls them for every single occasion and event and we send them something for every occasion and event. he goes and visits them once a year and they come here once a year. he talks to them weekly. beyond moving to florida, there isn’t much else he can do to share and be there. because it all boils down to an american holiday that morphed into yet another profit making venture.

meanwhile, i suppose it never occurred to my inlaws that there are thousands of dead fathers killed by american bombs and bullets. i am sure it never occurred to them that there are thousands of fathers- many innocent men locked away in the various secret prisons that are paid for by american tax dollars. i am positive they never gave it a thought that probably thousands of fathers are being tortured on a daily basis in the middle east at the directive of american orders. they were pretty lucky to have an over all healthy son who had some birth defects that were fixed when he was young. there are fathers who have buried children or have had to watch their children suffer the aftereffects of dirty bombs- used by american forces.

so, i am a bit angry that these typical, middle class americans spent the day canoing with their other child and her family after having ruined my husband’s day- all because of a capitalistic society who ruined what was supposed to be a day to honor the nation’s fathers. like many americans, they are content to not think too deeply or pay attention too closely- so as not to mar their fantasy of what life is supposed to be like. i don’t have that luxury. someone has to pay attention and think deeply. i look out into my new back yard with the wildflowers blowing in the breeze and the birds chirping like mad while a big fat bunny hops into the windbreak- and i have the luxury of peace. those millions of displaced fathers and mothers and families- those millions dead or maimed for life- they don’t have that luxury. and i don’t take it for granted. but millions in this country, like my inlaws,- do.

Sphere: Related Content

FATHER’S DAY

PraetorOne is having his very own  first Fathers Day today.~Dusty
By PraetorOne

The recent death of Tim Russert in conjunction with Fathers Day has me thinking about the relationship that I share with my own father.  My father and I did not always have the best of relationships.  I was fathered when my dad was in his mid teens and I lived with my mother who slept around, went homeless twice, and dated a man who molested me on a regular basis.  Through all of this my mother blamed my father for our circumstances.  So when I went to look for my father at the age of 17 it was with a sense of hate and vengeance.  At no time did it dawn on me that my mother had lied,which is bizarre because she had lied about so much and on such a regular basis that I never should have trusted her about anything.

The day we met my father and I got into a knock down, drag out fight which required my stepmother and several neighbors to break up.  I guess you might say that I was an angry  kid  with  a  huge  chip  on my shoulder.   Luckily   there were  several people  on the scene who  knew  my  father  well  and who  were  willing  to intervene.  My father’s uncle-in-law took me aside and explained that my father  frequently became depressed because I was not a part of his life.  My step mother had to explain how much he loved me.  My dad’s best friend explained that my father had spent the past several years missing me and blaming himself for what had gone wrong.

Somewhere along the line I began to listen and my dad and I began to talk.  Much to my surprise I began to realize that my dad was actually a very kind,gentle, and loving individual.  This was a man who loved animals, who would do anything for anyone, and who forgave easily, always showing a willingness to turn the other cheek. Does that mean my dad is a push over?  Not at all.  But he is a gentle soul who was perfectly willing to take me into his life and offer advice about life in general.   Today my father and I couldn’t be closer.  We hang out together, we share the same political views and we work together on political issues.  I love his warped sense of humor and I seem to be picking it up myself.

More importantly I have learned to love this  man.  He tells  me that there  isn’t  anything  he  wouldn’t  do for  me and  the  feeling is mutual. It took a long time but I learned that this is a man who I can believe, trust, and love.

Sphere: Related Content