But I don't want to go among mad people

I'm appalled at the precedent the California Supreme Court set Tuesday: That the rights of a minority protected class can be altered or revoked by a simple majority vote.

By upholding Prop. 8 as a valid Constitutional amendment, they basically said that voters can add discrimination and inequality into our State Constitution as long as more than 50 percent of people voting want to.

What?!

To make things even more ridiculous, the Justices also ruled that the gay marriages performed before Prop. 8 was passed are still valid.

So, now we have three classes of citizens? Gays who can be married, gays who can't be married and heteros who are free to marry and divorce and commit adultery and fornicate all that they want without any legal restrictions "to protect the sanctity of marriage" because they are in the majority.

Because 51 percent of people who voted last November think gays should not have the right to marriage, that means they get to take the right away from them?! Oh, unless they've already exercised that right. Then they get to keep the privileges and responsibilities related to that right?

Again, I am reduced to a stunned, "What?!"

Substitute "gays" for, say, "Catholics" or "women" or "blacks" or "left-handed". Now substitute "marriage" for "voting" or "driver's license" or "due process" or "free education".

Maybe then you will see how disturbing and wrong this precedent is.

Fundamental rights should not be up for popular vote. Ever. Equality means that everyone is treated equally under the law unless there is an overwhelming reason not to. As soon as we start carving out certain rights for some and not for others, we put all of our rights in danger.

One of the most basic premises of our legal system is that the rights of the minority are not subject to the whims of the majority.

Until this week. When The California Supreme Court said the exact opposite.

I can't believe that people who claim to be in favor of "small government" think that the government should regulate which of it's citizens get to exercise their legal right to enter into a personal contract of their choosing.

How far down the rabbit hole do we need to fall before people realize that they are only hurting themselves by insisting on creating haves and have-nots?

Will you only realize the damage you have done when it is your rights on the chopping block?

"If everybody minded their own business,
the world would go around a great deal faster than it does."
~ The Duchess, Alice in Wonderland

Still

My grandpa died today.

And even though I knew it was coming,
I'm still hurting.

And even though he lived a long and wonderful life,
I'm still angry.

And even though I'm glad he's no longer in pain,
I'm still selfish and want him here with us.

And even though we spent most of the weekend with him,
I'm still missing him already.

And even though I feel like I should be moving and doing ...
I'm still.

Moments in a Life Well Lived

"There's a shadow on his x-ray."

In my mind, I can see the photographs that have lined my grandmother's bookshelf for as long as I can remember: My grandfather ... in three-quarter profile, looking impossibly young in his Army uniform ... standing ramrod straight in a simple suit next to his beautiful young bride ... in front of the family car with his two strong boys, his brightly smiling daughter, and his baby girl in his wife's arms ... Standing behind my grandma, his big hands resting on her shoulders, celebrating their 50th anniversary.

"It started in his lungs ... "

I am seven years old and my Grampa is a giant with a booming voice and constant grin. He tells funny stories and teaches us to play card games ... He pulls quarters from behind my ears ... he "sneaks" me extra cookies from grandma's jar ... he sets me on his knee and we shell nuts as we watch Star Trek on the tiny TV in his living room ... He picks me up and dusts me off and sends me back into the game to "show those boys what you can do."

"... but it's spreading."

He's in his overalls and worn work boots, a holster on his hip, straw hat shading his eyes. He's mounting his big red horse, more at home on the farm than he would ever be in a city.

He's in a suit for my wedding day and he tells the whole room how I was an ornery little tomboy and "then she finally got boobs" and shoots me a joyfully wicked grin when I blush to my ears.

"Considering his age and medical history ..."

He's lying in a hospital bed after surgery. He's tired and in pain, but he's still giving the surgeon a hard time and flirting shamelessly with the nurses.

He's sitting in his backyard on a sunny Spring day, smiling as he watches his children's children's children run and scream and play.

"... there's nothing they can do for him."

It's his 80th birthday and he's holding my tiny two-week-old son, smiling so proudly you'd think it was his first child rather than his 10th grandchild. "You done good, Sis," he tells me with a wink.


You too, Grampa.

Thank you.

Made of Awesome

Checker at Target, looking at the two preschool boys in my cart:
"I bet you boys will have fun with this."

Me: "Uh, yeeaah. The boys. That's who it's for."

Mighty Muggs: Made of 100% Recycled Awesome

(Psst, ScifiDad, They have Boba Fett!!!)

ETA: Ooooh, they have them on Amazon, to. :)

Nothing to see here

Nothing to see here, today.

Instead, you should go read about my friend Jen's run-in with Ronald McDonald. :D

ETA: You should also go Read DaddyGeekBoy's McRant against The Ronald.

Apparently, it's a bad day in the blog-o-sphere for corporate fast food.

Who I Am

My blog has identity issues.

I mean, "What's your blog about?" should probably have a more interesting answer than, "I dunno. Stuff I like. Or don't like. Or think about. Or do."

Yeah. Not exactly riveting, eh? Or specific.

So: What is my blog about? Me? Okay ... Who am I?

• I'm a Mom-Who-Blogs. But I don't think I fit the MommyBlogger profile.
• I have moments when I think I'm funny. But I don't think anyone is ever going to mistake this for a Humor Blog.
• I sometimes mention my work, but this is definitely not a professional blog.
• I like to talk about books and quotes. But this isn't really a Book Blog.
• I sometimes comment on current events. But this isn't a political blog.
• I like to share my love of all things geeky pop-culture. But not (I think) in an obsessive sort of way.
• Some of what I write is probably pretty boring to some people, but I would hope that is not a blog-defining characteristic. :)

Ironically, in my super-secret alter-ego, I'm a public relations professional. My job is all about defining my goal ... identifying my audience ... directing my message .. targeting my communications.

But, here ... in my blog ... I don't have to do that. It's not so much that I'm missing my target as that I've just declined to identify one. As a marketing plan, that's a great big FAIL.

But that's just it. This blog isn't a job. And I don't want it to be. If I start "marketing" my blog ... trying to make it fit some niche definition ... well, that kind of defeats the purpose for me.

I love it when new people find my blog and have something to say about it. I think it's fun "meeting" people, getting feedback, engaging in conversation ... but that's not what drives me. That's not why I'm here. That's not "Who I Am".

Who I Am ... is a writer.

I write because I have to. Because I love to. Because I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't.

I'm lucky enough to get paid to do what I love, but that's not enough.

Don't get me wrong, I love the writing I get paid for. I really do. But, that writing is ... limited. Defined. Bound. Here, I have no restrictions. No rules. This is where I come to write about whatever happens to be on my mind.

I write about what inspires me, confuses me, amuses me, frustrates me, excites me.

I write about what I know, what I think, what I want, what I feel.

I write about what I love.

I write ...

Because I don't know how not to.


And that is Who I Am.

For Jen

Because they just do not make a Hallmark for this. :)

Promise me that you will blog about your run in with the burger-pushing clown?
Because I'm laughing my ass off right now just thinking about it.