Hey, You Have 200 Posts

This was in a text I received a few weeks ago from my brother, my biggest fan. (after whoever lives in North Bergen) I hadn’t even noticed. So often I sit and write just to work out what is going on in my head. Other times, I read an article or hear a news story that hits me. Whether it is a sweet feel or anger or frustration I have to get the feelings out. Being in the world I am so surprised at the diversity of people and it always makes me want to work out the feelings I have when chatting with people. Life has a way of doing that especially these days with all of the divisiveness in our world.

What I like most about a blog is the control. If I get a nasty comment, I can just delete it. I am the master of my domain. I love that phrase. Seinfeld fans will get it. But my meaning is entirely different. I am Canadian and so naturally many words have the British spelling. Colour, favour, labour. Americans leave out the U. Or the colour grey. Gray below the 49th parallel. Then there is cheque. Check down south. Which probably isn’t used much since no one writes cheques anymore. And there are words like kilometre. The US is kilometer. Although it is used both ways in Canada due to the influence of our southern neighbour, most commonwealth countries use the British spelling. Why Americans would even care or notice is questionable since they are one of three countries in the world who have not adopted the metric system. The others being Liberia and Myanmar. Now Liberia has an interesting history with the United States. Look it up. And Myanmar has bigger issues than the metric system. Anyways, I digress. One day I had a comment from a man, obviously American who suggested that if I was going to write a blog and put it out there for all to see I should at least run a spell check program. I was tempted to educate him on the differences between Canadian and American spellings and then…I thought, why educate him. Let him continue to reveal his ignorance. (To be fair I often have spelling mistakes. But I think intelligent people can catch my drift)

While I say that I can control comments, I have to admit that his was the only comment I deleted. Frankly most people don’t comment. And if they do, it is kind. My own private social media. I am not on social media but I subscribe to quite a few newspapers. I recently made a comment on a New York Times article regarding parents being reported for allowing children to venture into the world alone. I was immediately told by other readers that I didn’t understand the article. My view was that people are nostalgic about their own free range childhoods while limiting their own children. The commenter reminded me that parents are afraid. So they can’t allow kids to walk home from school alone or ride their bikes alone. That was the point of the article. My point was that the parents who idealize their own youth are the same people saying that life is so dangerous today. They created the overprotective environment which is now punishing all parents and restricting their rights. See, I can say what I want here. Agree. Disagree. Doesn’t matter.

Sometimes if I write about something controversial I wonder if I go too far. And I admit that I am passionate about some things. But the metrics I use here are related to real life. Would I say this to your face? If so, I will definitely expound on my thoughts on this page. Now the difference is really in my approach. The blog allows me to be a little more direct. Face to face I have a few ranges to guide me based on my relationship. If you are someone I care about or respect my delivery is softened a great deal. The less the relationship matters in my life the more direct I can be. In fact, I can be quite a bitch. For example it is very clear my views on transgender rights or in fact protection for anyone residing along the beautiful rainbow of LGBTIAQ2S+. Recently during a discussion regarding transgender athletes, my friend asked how I would feel if my daughter lost out to a transgender woman who won Gold in weight lifting at the Olympics. What could I say but the truth. “THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN”. You see stories get started but over time they morph and change until they are completely unrecognizable. Her name is Laurel Hubbard by the way.. The evil weight lifter. Go read her story. But I will say a few things. The IOC does not set rules and regs for individual sports. In this case the IWF (International Weightlifting Federation) sets the requirements. Laurel did compete. She came in last in her group. But that story isn’t as good is it. I care for my friend and I love our discussions so I could tell her outright. Bullshit. That’s what she was passing along. I would want to know if I had something completely wrong so I didn’t look stupid.

I find that being in the world I am inherently an observer. Oh yes I am very vocal but for the most part my instincts are usually to go with the underdog. Frankly they need champions. As I watch the world change I have come to realize that most people admire people who have wealth or power. How else do you explain reality TV or Donald Trump. I met a girl living in a tent behind the woods near where my Grandson was playing baseball. I was heading back to my car to get my sunglasses and I stopped to chat. She was from England and upset with the Canadian government that their social programs didn’t pay enough for her to get off the street. I wondered how she ended up there in the first place. She wanted to go to the States for the winter. I mentioned I hadn’t been there for years and wouldn’t return until the politics changed. She praised their current leader and when I pointed out I was always surprised at women who supported him, Jean Carroll came up. Her views? She had no doubt they had sex but the woman was not raped. After all. He was rich. He didn’t have to rape anyone. He could have any woman he wanted. I didn’t argue. Luckily a group of his peers disagreed. Not my biz. I guess the moral of the story is that people with little admire those with more. Doesn’t matter how they got it or how they act. They are raised onto pedestals. Look at the Kardashians. A famous Daddy, a sex tape. Voila. And those receiving the adulation come to believe in their own superiority. Maybe that explains the rise in malignant narcissism.

Life is an interesting journey. We are born blank slates and then the people of the world seek to transform us into mini versions of themselves. I understand the biological narrative. Millions of years ago people needed to be safe. So the tribe taught the young. We do the same today. In fact generations of people live as their ancestors did. Few people go way outside the realm of their personal history. Political values, medical ideas, child rearing, sports, education, money. All either taught to our young or shown to them through actions. We become what we live with. I can’t help but think of my own siblings here as we are so diverse. I am amazed we all had the same parents. That being said, we did not have the same upbringing. Regardless of our early years, society shapes our views long after our parents disperse their ideas. My Dad used to say you are finished raising a child by the time they are twelve. After that you hope they take the good you taught and carry it into your life. My youngest brother is over four years older than myself. He likes our Alberta Premier and I think she is a moron. He does not care for the Prime Minister of Canada and I think he is great. FYI. I am not a liberal. I voted liberal. There is a difference. Liberals are typically centrists. I am much further left leaning. But I know voting NDP is strategically incorrect. Anyways, my brother and I just leave it at that. We had different journeys yet we aren’t too far apart. And we love each other so… respect right.

Bias not only shapes our views it keeps us from searching out other viewpoints. The reality is that being an outlier can be hard but it is better to be true yourself. I live in an extremely right wing province. I don’t belong. My Grandmother on my fathers side was a mean old bag to my Mom. Dad was her only child and she saw Mom as a threat I think. Yet I learned a lot about how to treat people in this world from my Farmor. (Father’s mother) My religious education was very much shaped by her as well as my views on money, charity, helping those less fortunate and of course humility. I am not so good at that last one. For all of her bad parts, she was a woman whose actions in so many ways were very admirable. Her faith in God was never shaken and my personal relationship with God has much to do with her teachings. I am grateful. I am an outlier in so many ways and yet I seldom feel alone or put upon. With age comes perspective and I have met and experienced so many people that I am better able to blow away the chafe while I keep the grain. My father showed me how to do that as a small child as he tested the wheat. It is a metaphor for aging I think. Learning what to keep and what to blow away. And for me this blog is very much a written record of my journey through this world. When I am gone I hope my Grandchildren will be able to know me a bit better as they read my thoughts. After all that is who I am writing for in many ways. And while 200 is the number from awhile back, trust me, there are many more swirling in my head. In fact, there are over 40 blogs I haven’t posted. I just put them aside sometimes and then move on. I am grateful that my cousin in law Jude and my friend Samantha encouraged me to write. It soothes my soul and gives me peace. Thank you. I have learned that having people like that in your life is all that matters. There are few true friends, but they are worth more than all the gold in the world. The rest is just chafe.