Sweet Fantasy (Mariah Carey)

When I was a kid, I had the biggest crush on a guy I called “Senor Hotness.” It was because in my 16 year old opinionation he was hot and spicy. He had hair that was either dyed blood red or icy blue. He was tall, thin, and wiry with several piercings. Senor Hotness got his name because the first time I laid eyes on the most perfect man on the planet I was leaving Spanish class. When he walked by I thought, “Heaven Walks on Earth!”

When you have a teen crush, it means planning a massive future with a stranger you don’t have the guts to talk to. This meant I was marrying Senor Hotness, having his 2.5 children, and putting my future on hold to be the future Mrs. Hotness. What could possibly go wrong?

The man I created in my mind was utterly perfect. He loved history as much as I did, and didn’t think my dreams of being onstage with puppets and creating my own work were stupid. Like the characters in Felicity we would be in New York together making it happen, me with my writing and performing and him with a skill he would later discover.

Sweet, sweet fantasy baby.

I would feed my addiction to this stud muffin by walking past his lunch table just to hear him laugh with his friends. I would walk past his locker to see him socializing with his friends just to hear his voice. There was a shorter way I could have gone to class and the detour always made me just get in the door when the bell rang, but any time with Senor Hotness was worth it.

Then he got a girlfriend. That mutherfucker! He broke my heart. She had jet black hair, a nose ring, pale skin, and a banging perfect little body. They were always holding hands and sucking face by his locker. I prayed for her to be hit by a bus or taken out tragically. Or he would find out she was the tawdry tramp we always knew she was and Senor Hotness would come running into my arms. Then we could begin our love affair.

Each time I saw her, and I will call her Skankola McFee, I looked to see if there was anything wrong with her and painfully measured myself up against my perceived competition. I was blonde and gentlemen prefer blondes, right? Her skin was pale and made her look dead, but flawless. I had bouts with cystic acne. Her nose ring was probably a nuisance when she got a cold but she was cooler than me. And she had the perfect body and I struggled with my weight. I had heard Skankola McFee wasn’t on the advanced track like I was. So at least I was smarter than the tramp. But guys don’t care about that. They want it now and they want it easy and she was entrapping him with her feminine wows.

They say God does for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Senor Hotness was spending so much time socializing and was consumed by the face sucking going on by his locker that I guess he forgot to get his books because he was failing all of his classes and wasn’t set to graduate on time. And he got fired from his after school job, and this meant his ladyship had to pay for everything. That got real old real quick and she dumped him. And to top it off, I heard from other people that he had been a controlling shithead to her and that she was actually a sweet person. And the worst part was, when I finally talked to Senor Hotness was the biggest dufus ever. I had fallen out of love as quickly as I had fallen in.

After high school I forgot about all of them. I went to college, had actual relationships with losers that I sadly did not make up, and moved towards happy destiny in a life I carved for myself. However, facebook makes us all curious about parts of our past that we unearth at our own risk. So I decided to see what Senor Hotness and his old flame were up to.

His old flame was married with two kids and working as a legal assistant. She looked happy but strange without the jet black hair or nose ring, but I suppose motherhood will make you grow up. I felt bad about hating her with no basis for my hate, and regretted calling her Skankola McFee. We had been kids. We were all stupid. She grew up. The guy in the center of this struggle I had in my mind was no prize anyway. I was glad life seemed to be working out for her.

Then I went to the page of Senor Hotness. He is now living in Texas and is a member of a white separatist group. In one singular facebook post that began with, “White pride worldwide,” he used slurs against lgbtq people, immigrants, and blacks. And he even misspelled them too. What a charmer and a mind. Trump should give him a job. I also want to add that he had gained about 100 pounds and had a ZZ Top beard. Back in the day I could justify this idiot because he was Senor Hotness, but now he was as ugly on the outside as he clearly was within. 

He had two kids because as he explained, “I need to keep the white race going.” They were dressed in camo and looked like future school shooters. His wife was nondescript and you could tell she spoke only when spoken to and perhaps had a suggestion box when she needed to express grievances against her husband. Behind them the family had their Confederate flag as their father proclaimed liberals, “LOSERS!”

Well Sir, if you would have taken your books out of your locker you would have known Robert E. Lee had to surrender. And you would also know how to spell. Sigh, all of this could have been mine.

It always blows my mind when a young person cries about a crush or love affair that doesn’t work out. I know it feels like the end of the world, but it isn’t. If there could be a crystal ball to show the future and they could see stuff like this, they would not only embrace it not working out but they would celebrate. Alas, it does get better. But you got to go through it to get through it I suppose.

An Open Letter to the Muslim Doctors Who Helped Me

To the Muslim Doctors That Helped Me:

I would like to open this letter with my gratitude. Not only for your service and commitment to science, helping others, and the advancement of technology, but for treating me with compassion during one of the worst personal/medical times in my life.

A year ago, I was in a bad living situation. I was living with bed bugs and mold. Instead of taking care of it, my landlord thought he would run me out. That way he could jack the rent up in my apartment. One which I had lived in without incident for 10 years. When I called The City on him, he proceeded to torment me through the legal system. I was in court once a week with this man. He proceeded to follow me around the neighborhood, until one day he told me that he wouldn't stop until he saw me homeless. While in court, he attempted to burn my apartment down after going through my things. He knew where I was going to be. This was the perfect opportunity for his wish to come true.

Due to the stress I had to endure, my health began to fail. My hair was falling out, and I was so stressed I could not digest my food properly. I could not sleep, and when I did I feared bugs were crawling all over me. Often I was so weak I couldn't make it up the stairs, and routinely fainted/passed out. Not to mention I had problems breathing. Do to the stress and poor diet as well as lack of self-care, a test for cancer came back for a certain virus that causes a certain type of cancer. Often, abnormal tests are triggered by stress and a broken down immune system as was the case in my particular situation.

During my first visit to the doctor, I was scared. You often are when you fear they will find something deathly wrong with you. I told the nurse this. Then you walked in. Yes, my Muslim doctor. You heard I was afraid of doctors, and to put me at ease walked in without your robe. In order to get me to relax, and made me laugh. Then you asked what brought me to you. I told the truth. You listened with compassion, and no judgement. By the way you spoke to me, I could tell you cared. At that point in my life, no one else did. You discussed doing some tests to find out why I was so tired, and you told me regardless of what you found, we were going to design a treatment plan so that I could be healthy again.

My second visit contained my test results. This time I had a second doctor. Another Muslim doctor. This one female. It was because my first was back home to visit his family in his home nation. This young woman was fresh out of medical school, and discussed a treatment plan. She told me I was going to be alright, and suggested vitamin supplements that could help me. She also suggested a higher iron diet, and perhaps moving out of my unhealthy situation. While I didn't walk out of there cured, I had a plan. I was going to be okay.

A year later I am healthy. I am out of my horrific living situation. My hair has grown back. As well, I no longer faint and am running anywhere from 2-5 miles a day, depending. I am also weight training. My diet contains more iron, fruits, and vegetables.

I also want to express gratitude for the fact you saw me as a patient, and did not judge me by the color of my skin. You cared about my well-being as a doctor should. As a matter of fact, I kept my same insurance so I could keep you as my doctors. That being said, I apologize for the closed minded bigotry of the leader our country has picked, and I apologize for the Islamophobia that you have experienced at the hands of others.

I also know that Isis does not speak for all practitioners of your faith, just as Army of God and the KKK do not speak for all Christians, my faith. If you are what we are letting in when Muslims come, I say let more in. You are welcome in the America I know and that I grew up to understand. Thank you for being so willing to contribute, even though so many of us are not so kind back.

This summer in Cleveland I was able to march against Trump when he got his nomination. There were shirts that said, "Muslim Doctors Save Lives." I know this to be true.

Thank you for saving mine.

April

The Lady and President Tramp
Monday February 20, 2017 7PM
Dont Tell Mama
343 W. 46 Street

Name Calling, Etc

As many of my readers know I became very involved in the election this past year. So involved when you throw a topic at me I am almost as knowledgeable as Anderson Cooper without the hefty paycheck. I have learned many of these issues are not quite black and white but a huge brush stroke of gray.

For example, I am pro-choice. I am all about abortion access. My body, my say. A fetus is not a person under the US Constitution nor should it be. If a man can walk away why can't I? Many women are forced to go through with a pregnancy by an abusive partner who wants to hold onto them. Often times, people have abortions because the child has a health issue that will make their lives either short or unbearable. It's not an easy choice.

But I respect the pro-life side of things and felt that way for nearly the first 16 years of my life. I even gave out the white ribbons at the Catholic Church I attended as a young girl. However, over time I saw that the bully boy Republican lawmakers, mostly male, pressured women into going through with the pregnancy via legislation. Their evil, masked behind religion and sexism, was used to torture women. And these cock sure men were also the first to cut education programs that could help these young women leave poverty. The paradox behind Jesus made me ill. This is when I became pro-choice.

However, I do advocate for adoption. We need to make it easier for people who want to adopt. Heck, I have 6 cousins who are adopted so I can testify that my aunts and uncles gave these children wonderful homes and were amazing parents. Being a parent is far from giving birth, that's just a small sliver. It's being there in sickness and health and always and forever until you no longer walk this Earth. Someday, if I am to be a mother to real beings, I would honestly be more inclined to adopt or foster than bear a child of my own. It's because the pro-life movement doesn't account for the abused, unwanted children who are Constitutional Citizens who fall through the cracks.

Whenever I tell this to people they yell and scream. I'm a murderer. I'm a baby killer. Have I never seen a video of an abortion being performed. God will judge me harshly. Over the years I have had a lot of people ream me outline, friends, and they have disfriended me. We can't agree to disagree. We can't say the issue is gray. I am a baby killer plain and simple. Ya!

Sure, I support the mother's choice not to have the child. I support the mother's choice to give it up for adoption. I support someone's choice to keep the kid as long as there are programs to benefit them. But I am big on women knowing their rights regardless.

A childhood karate buddy and facebook friend is an evangelical Christian. She is pro-life to begin with, but she had a child who was born premature. This woman feels that if her son could survive at 28 weeks, that's a full term person. I am not going to tell her she's wrong. If anything it adds another layer to the whole complicated issue. For me to even debate her stance on this, her experience, would make me or anyone else a judgmental monster. And to her credit, our views could not be more different, but she was able to appreciate my point of view. She also didn't resort to name calling. That's what America should be about.

This election in general has made bitter enemies of some I used to call friends. I was called a libtard by some because of my activism against Trump. Others resorted to saying I deserved to be raped, cowards online more or less. All because I spoke my mind. I guess they were speaking theirs, and their insults laid claim that they really and truly had nothing to say. One man who had a KKK avatar messaged me saying, "Respect our next president you cunt," when I initially released a Donald J. Tramp video.

The hood over the head was scary. Anything hate group related always is. It's a level of evil that is based on both ignorance and fear that we can never fathom. Yet the hood over the head also led me know this was an idiot who was easily manipulated that had nothing to say. He had nothing to back him up. Of course he called women the c word. A woman with an opinion was a dangerous thing.

My political point of view tends to be more socialist. I am light pink. While I can appreciate Marxism, I know it does not fully work. Yet like a lot of Americans I will not demonize it either. The only reason I registered as Democrat is we have a two party system we need to work with.

I posted what I believed to be a very objective tribute to Fidel Castro. No, he wasn't perfect. He was a dictator. However, he got rid of the color stuckedness issue in Cuba. For the first time the black Cubans, second class citizens, had the same rights their white counterparts did. He also educated the people and gave them universal healthcare. Castro wanted a free Cuba for the Cubans like Ho Chi Minh wanted a Vietnam for the Vietnamese without Western influence. And yes, Batista was our man, because he let us swing our imperialist dicks around and dip our dirty fingers in his water. I told the truth.

I got some support but I was told by a lot of people that I "did not understand history." That I had never spoken to a Cuban. Yes I have. My deceased best friend was Cuban, and his family disliked Castro but told me Batista was much worse and kept the people racially divided. More Cubans in the US are white than black. The white Cubans were more or less political exiles and of course hate Castro. And as for me not understanding history, I debated becoming a history professor. Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire was my bedtime story as a child. I understand history a hell of a lot better than you.

Then there were those who kept telling me I was a stupid American. And they kept going on and on about the people in boats. Yes, the people on the tires. Let me point out that's bad. But we killed more blacks in the middle passage as we embraced the progressive immigration policy of displacing one ethic group solely to be slaves. Before importing slaves was made illegal, we also worked these people to death because we figured they could be replaced. And then when importation was made illegal, we bred them for work in the field and ripped their families apart time after time because they were not full persons under the law. Now we have one of the highest incarceration rates in the world, most of those convicts young men of color who don't know their rights.

Let me not even get into how we massacred or killed off with disease The Native Americans. Our record is nothing short of terrible in America. We have no room to criticize anyone at any time.

Andrew Jackson literally killed off an entire tribe of Native Americans by himself. He also initiated The Trail of Tears where many more died. Additionally he was a terrible sexist and brutal slave owner. Not a nice man, but a hero of our history. He's on our $20. Castro's no hero but he pales in comparison to Jackson.

Then there are those who challenged me that Castro censored artists. Yes he did but we censor the art and media all the time in the United States, and our coverage is nothing less than biased. Additionally, yes he put HIV positive people in quarantine. But Reagan denied HIV/AIDS and millions of Americans died. Some even argue the AZT killed more people than HIV/AIDS, and the government knew this and was eager to rid themselves of the demon of the homosexual. If this is true, it makes us worse than Castro could ever be. Sure, he was terrible to homosexuals. Yet we listed homosexuality as a mental illness in the US until the 1960s and then subjected young LGBTQ kids to conversion therapy for years......abuse of the worst kind. Yet we wag our finger at Cuba for being such bad, bad people. Double standard much, Miss America?!

And then let me add as I tried to make these points I was a traitor. Don't think so, just telling the truth. I was also a Communist. Eh, maybe I am as long as it pisses you off. People were going to try to set me straight. You are more than welcome to. That is when I just finally stopped answering. I know I am telling the truth.

As for those families affected by Castro, not excusing him. But unfortunately that is the bi-product of political unrest and revolution at times. We see it constantly in the developing world. Heck, we are about to see it here with a Trump presidency. So let's not judge because we have a superiority complex.

Heck, when Marx wrote "Religion is the opium of the masses" he might have been on to something. We use religion to keep people in their place constantly. We used it to preach that segregation was good for blacks and that gays were evil. We use it to control women's wombs at the government level. We use it as a mask for the sexist, racist notion of The White Man's Burden. While I am not totally for it as a spiritual woman, maybe not having it isn't the worst idea.

Then there is the subject of burning the flag. People tell you that you're UnAmerican if you burn a flag. Personally, I think you should be allowed to but feel it's lazy protesting. There are people who feel you should be in jail. Trump wants to take away your citizenship. Makes me want to torch one just because.

There are the idiots who use the argument that the troops died for our freedom. Not since the Revolutionary War have the troops died for our freedom. Mexican American War was Manifest Destiny. The Civil War was to preserve The Union. Spanish American War was imperialism. Both World Wars were imperialism. Vietnam was imperialism. Both the Gulf War and this conflict were imperialism.

I do respect those who lost their lives in battle, and feel for their families. I regard their sons as heroes because our government cheats the vets whenever they can. Plus as an American I do support them because I know there are also layers to the story we do not get and they are pawns. That being said, stop saying they are fighting for our freedom. It isn't true!

Also, unless you are white and male America is not always the paradise it is painted as. When your rights are denied and you feel there is injustice maybe a flag needs to be torched to make a point. While I feel perhaps you should run for office or join a peace rally, people are also pushed. Just like the minutemen were pushed. Actually, these farmer soldiers, untrained but sick and tired of being sick and tired, would probably actually be for flag burning. We are a country built on protest. So I say don't tread on me. And if that means torching the flag do it.

This past week I have been called a stupid cunt by a comic I once liked who defriended me online. Another called me a psycho, and this was one who used to be a nice dude before he decided to swing for Trump and left reality. One man who was a former club owner who let his club run into the ground called me a slew of names, one being failure. (His 5 businesses that went into bankruptcy could say if you spot it you got it).

Several people told me to get on a flotilla and go to Cuba. "Go somewhere else."

Eh, you mean somewhere that people can have a discussion without calling each other names? I think I will go there. And I think the loss of your friendship is no real loss. I can appreciate different ideas. I can appreciate discussion. But I don't appreciate name calling. Just saying, kids.

David Duke, Stormfront, and Other Things Explained

The other day I found myself explaining David Duke to my housemates. Yes, the former KKK leader and ex-Louisiana Congressman who endorsed Trump. While Duke was vocal about not liking Trump’s stand on Israel, Duke got right behind the Donald. Yes, the Donald who says he is not a career politician but is parsing and double speaking just like the rest of them. Donald.

David Duke is an interesting man. He does not like it when you introduce him as an ex Grand Wizard of the KKK although he was. Our pal David seemed to forget his slogan was that he “wanted to bring the KKK into the boardroom.”

In front of the symbol of white European heritage aka missing teeth and trailer livin

Despite the efforts of others, David Duke was elected as a one term Congressmen in Louisiana as I explained. During his time in office he continued to sell white power literature. While in college, he was known to prance around in a Nazi uniform. Just the kind of balanced individual you want representing your district.

Years ago, Scott Walker, another nauseating piece of breathing fecal matter, tried to block David Duke from running for office for moral reasons. Walker wants to consider a fetus a person under the law, and wants to have abortion fall under the pretense of murder, and wants all women seeking abortion to be prosecuted for murder. Charming man, especially since he’s not footing the bill to raise the child and thus creates a welfare state by being the morality police.

Duke fired back at Walker for trying to ban him from running cutting him off at his knees, explaining that he should be on the ballot like any other candidate and it shouldn’t be one set of rules for him and another for someone else because of his past. Walker likened him to Jeffrey Dahmer. Duke decimated him some more. The callers agreed. Put Duke on the ballot. Let the people decide if he sinks or swims. While I am not a fan of Duke, I wish Scott Walker would just walk into the sunset and vanish forever.

Walker: Moral Ranger

The funny thing about elections is the numbers will speak for themselves. Somewhere, some idiot who’s missing his teeth and can barely read will vote for him. The educated will vote for their person. We are seeing it right now with Donald Trump.

The Duke is actually a smart guy. When he speaks about both the Revolutionary War and Civil War, as an eternal student of history I am impressed by his knowledge and grasp on the cold, hard facts. However, seconds later he ruins himself by ranting about how the media is controlled by the Jewish conspiracy and the Zionist empire. How the Jews control everything. And how the Jewish problem must be contained and stopped, and of course we cannot forget his bit about how the Holocaust is just another Jewish conspiracy. Then he rants about how he is a white right’s activist campaigning for the rights of European Americans everywhere. Face to palm….it all goes down hill from there.

Dr. Duke is kind of a colorful character. Yes, he has a PhD in history but that is sort of questionable. The institution he got it from in the Ukraine is one that notoriously houses Holocaust denier academics like himself. Colloquially known as The Institute of Hate, it is notorious for it’s Anti-Semetic bend. It’s accredation was yanked back in 2006, but apparently they gave David Duke a degree one can wipe their ass with.

Perhaps a candid shot from the cave where he lives......it's David Duke!

Dr. Duke was living in the US, but then defrauded his followers by telling them he was broke and swindled them out of money. Then he decided he didn’t have to pay taxes. Both times he swore it was the government and the Jewish media out to get him for speaking the truth. If that isn’t seeing your role in the circumstances in your life I don’t know what is. So perhaps we should call him Dr. Dick, because in all actuality the PhD in history is not technically even real.

Because he is a convicted felon and an objectionable human being complete with Holocaust denying, another tool of the apparent Jewish media, he has lived in several different places over the years and each and every time has found himself deported. First it was Austria, but then he denied the Holocaust which is illegal there so they deported him. Then he went to Italy where he was deported as well. For a time he was in The Czech Republic where he was deported as swiftly as he came. Last we checked he was in some undisclosed locale in a cold, barren part of Eastern Europe, possibly because most people do want to kill him. He says he lives in the US but no one knows for sure. Either way, he broadcasts a webshow out of this location, and fights with people on it about topics.

David Duke skypes into shows from this undisclosed cave, and for the most part they make fun of him. But what do you want? The man lives in a cave. Don’t ever expect rational behavior from anyone living in a cave.

Recently, The Duke endorsed Donald Trump. The ex-dominator of the dumb, often on youtube his followers will explain, “You cannot Juke the Duke.” And now Donald Trump has taken the crown and David Duke has had to give it the okay. I get it.

He can't be the face of white hate.....he's orange as a pumpkin

The whole Duke Family unit is a little unique to say the least. His former wife, Chloe Hardin, now Chloe Black, is active in the movement as well. She met her first husband in a white student group, because that is a healthy place to meet men, probably on par with AA, but oops, there might be black men in AA so nevermind. They were married for ten years and had two daughters. However, David’s gambling problem broke that marriage up. Chloe kept the two kids, he left.

Of course one must also know that Ms. Chloe was sluttin it up white power style. She slept with several other white power neo-Nazi types before landing on her ex’s best friend Don Black. Ordinarily that is a no no, but in this family they believe in sharing their fried chicken and sharing their women white trash…..I mean white power style.

David Duke with Chloe Hardin, the babe of the white power movement

Don Black operates Stormfront, a white supremacist website. Apparently it is a safe place for European Americans to express their discomfort at racial mixing, interracial dating, and the immigration issues. Boy do they hate Obama. Often on Stormfront, young people who probably need to join an after school club or sports organization, are dismayed at how people freely mix let alone date outside their race. They feel the white race is dying. No comment. And of course it’s the Jews conspiring against them…..and if that line isn’t so 1938 I don’t know what is.

Don Black, on the internet all day in his trailer writing nasty things. If the man had a job, he wouldn't have time to be causing so much trouble on the internet......

One young man wrote: The Jews at my school are plotting against me. They talk about me behind their back at their meeting. They were even taking photos of me.

If that isn’t well adjusted I don’t know what is.

Another promising scholar wrote: ‘My mother took my copy of Mein Kampf and wants me to see a therapist. She thinks I am having ‘issues.’ The only issue I have is going to therapy because it was invented by Jews.”

As the hits keep rolling in, perhaps the best one is, “How do I come out to my parents as a white, nationalist skinhead? Any ideas?”

I told my mom this one. She told me to write in suggesting the kid tell his parents he was gay. Then him being a white, nationalist skinhead would be no biggie, right?

Despite the fact they dipped their magic sticks in the same white power slut, Don Black still tolerates his best buddy David Duke posting on his forum and even commenting. Don Black adores Duke as a preacher of the movement and an activist for the rights of all European Americans. David and Don have a very weird relationship to say the least. Most current husband’s don’t want the last man their wife laid with around. But again, a family that sleeps together stays together……kindof.

To put the more fun in this dysfunctional brood, Don Black has been out of work for years. Despite his complaints that minorities and immigrants collect welfare, Don Black has been enjoying the best that the state of Florida has to offer in the area of benefits for the indigent. To top it off, Mr. Black hates Obama, but at the moment might be receiving Obamacare. Like everyone who lives in a trailer that hangs a Confederate flag in the front, Mr. Black seems to vote against his own interests.

Since money is tight and white power does not pay the power bill, Chloe Black has taken a job as an assistant to sugar baron Pepe Fanjul. One of her projects is as a spokewoman for Glades Academy, an institution to help poor children of minority migrant workers out of poverty and into the classroom. Translated, she is using these children as a pawn to help her white hate empire because her lazy bigot husband can’t get a real job. Charming.

As if this family isn’t complicated enough, Don Black’s son Derek has been pimped out on the white power circuit since he has been a wee lad. As a teen, he even had a white power radio show, because why not? However, since going to college, Derek has denounced the white power movement. Don Black, while not formally disowning his son, whines that he has lost a fellow warrior. Others on Stormfront have verbally crucified this young man for finding the brain he never knew he had. And then they all are at crisis about what happened to this young man and why he went rogue.

Young Derek, the only one with his shit together

Personally, I think Derek got out of the trailer park in the back woods and got a glimpse of the world. Not only did he learn that his views were archaic and reprehensible, but they were also completely and utterly bullshit. Then Derek, bless his little heart, discovered that his parents had lied about everything, and that is when the true breakthrough began.

Derek saw people of all races living peacefully and working together. He saw interracial relationships that worked. Derek probably also made friends with black kids, and he probably made friends with Jewish kids who knew nothing about this conspiracy. As Derek discovered the immigrants, minorities and Jews were not working to keep him and other European Americans down, this is when the breakthrough began. And perhaps he discovered he even liked black women, and not in that Thomas Jefferson, Sally Hemmings kind of way.

Now Derek seems to be the functional success story of this family that has a lot to figure out. He is not living in a cave which is a good start. He is not living in a trailer, which while better than a cave is not that much better. He isn’t collecting welfare while hating the government that is giving it to him. He isn’t a hypocrite making excuses. He isn’t using minority children to fund his hate. Derek is doing alright. He is running free and running out. We have all had to overcome adversity of some kind, but him probably more than a lot of people.

Maybe they need a session on Dr. Phil.......but then again, therapy was invented by the Jews, right? Sigh McSigh Sigh.........(Wowsa!)

Fear and Loathing

I grew up in an area that was not racially varied at all. We were white for the most part aside from the five black kids we had in our school. Yes, they were all related. It is terrible but true. My neighbors were white. Most everyone in my town was Christian. We all went to church come Sunday. If you didn't go to church it meant you were from a bad family. The Catholics were into being Catholic. While the Protestant denominations were a little more relaxed, it wasn't much. Then we had Born Again folks who were scary. But it was a white, Christian place. There was a Bible study at lunch in my high school one teacher hosted. There were kids who prayed around the flag pole. In this scenario God only loved white Christians.

Since there were no outsiders, things could get a little hairy. David Duke probably would have been at home. I remember as a kid, I had a black friend. We played together and she is actually one of my oldest friends in the world. My area, while not racially varied, was economically varied. As intellectuals, my parents tried to enforce the idea that there were many different people in the world who didn't share the same beliefs and customs. Not everyone got the memo. I still remember word getting out that I was friends with Keyana. We were in second grade. One thinker said, "So you are friends with the jungle bunny?" I didn't even know what that meant but knew it meant something bad. Our noon time aid heard it. Other kids heard it. No one said or did anything.

While we had our moments, we knew right from wrong in that regard. A few years later another thinker called my friend Keyana the "n" word. Apparently, he thought it was okay to speak about people of color this way. My friend Erica thought this was disgusting. A lot of people who were from the right side of the tracks did. So when she found out he said it she hit him in the mouth. He never said it again. Looking back, the kids was from one of those poor white trash families. We have a street in our town that is kind of poor. Those people could all be on Jerry Springer. Poor thing, he didn't know any better.

In sixth grade we had to read Roll of Thunder, a book about segregation. The "n" word was used several times in there. During class we had to read aloud. At the time, we got this influx of group home kids from the inner-city in our classes. Inner-city was code word for black. Anyway, this Howdy Doody looking kid was reading and it came to the "n" word. He didn't know what to do. The black kid from the group home made  a gesture that he would cut the kid's throat if he said it. Our teacher said it was just a word in a story. The kid blurted out, "And he said 'you n word'" and the class laughed. The kid got to accept his white guilt and he got to avoid being beaten up by the group home kid. It all worked out.

The area that was accepted was Anti-Semitism. Around seventh grade it became acceptable to make Jewish jokes. I remember one went, "How do you ask a Jewish girl for her phone number?" You roll up her sleeve. It became common place for someone to be called Jewish because they were perceived as cheap. Or when someone felt you were ripping them off they would accuse you of "Jewing" them. Our teachers heard this hate speech on the regular. Some of them used it as a lesson to educate about prejudice. Others blamed South Park, a popular TV show at the time. Then there were those who laughed along with the terrible jokes.

The adults around us shared those views actually. Growing up I knew adults who said Jew were clannish, that they stuck together only taking care of their own. They also said Jews invented bargains and rebate as a way to control the majority. Looking back, these opinions had no weight or truth but there were some who accepted them as truth. Then a woman I know regularly talked about how "Hitler was on to something and missed a couple" in his quest to cleanse the world of the Jewish population. I don't know what was worse, that she felt this views were based anywhere in reality or that there were people who excused her.

My early exposure to Jewish people was small. We had one Jewish kid in our school who got picked on for being Jewish. His father, in order to get it to stop, spoke to the classes. He was a nice guy actually, and it did ease some of the tension in the air and the ignorance we harbored. However, the previous exposure many had to Jews in our town had in fact been negative. One woman, a former Catholic and Jewish convert, was angry her children had to sing Christmas carols in school. She sued the district. The lady was nuts. But the damage had been done. We were no longer allowed to sing carols and her kids became the target of endless bullying. We knew her son, he was actually quite sweet. He couldn't help his mother was crazy. Still, it had been put in the air. Jews wanted to kill Christmas and that was what was in the water. Matters were made worse by a music teacher in our school who decided rather than a Christmas recital he would put on a Hannakah show. This went over like a fat cat with the parents and he was forced into retirement.

Our biggest overall complaint growing up was being forced to learn a language. Colleges required it. A lot of folks elected to take Spanish because it was easy. However, a lot of teachers would tell us it was the way to go because Latinos were becoming a huge minority and Spanish was becoming a second language. The white kids didn't want to hear this. At the time, there had been an illegal immigration crisis in the country. One Einstein said, "Why don't they just learn the language? It would be better than those boarder bunnies having babies and us having to learn theirs."

During one lesson, I think it was eighth grade, a kid pointed out that it was "Oh say can you see?" Not "Jose can you see?" and therefore it was a waste of our time to learn Spanish. Oh and then there was the joke of "Imagine thinking in that language. No wonder they have so many babies." Now I know what hell is. Teaching foreign language to middle school students. Either way, it spoke volumes not just about my town but much of America.

Then I was told if I dated outside my race no white boy would want me, and my partner would leave me with a child and beat me. That if I dated and married a Jew he would make me give up Christmas. That if I dated a Spanish dude he only wanted a greencard. This was all pretty bad actually. Oh and the attitude about Arabs after 9/11 was that they were all terrorists and could not be trusted. And that all they wanted to do was spread Allah's word and blow up planes.

Upon moving to New York I discovered people dated in all races interchangeably and peacefully. Men of all colors stepped up to be dad's to their children, and dead beats came in all colors, including mine. There were Jews who were cheap and clannish. However, there were also Jews who were fun, open minded, and were generous friends with good hearts. Like everyone, they cherish their customs. However, some were raised both Jewish and Christian, having both a tree and a Hannakah bush. Then of course there are the Spanish folks. Some Spanish men are Don Juans looking for a green card. But then there are others who in fact do want true companionship. Some come into this country illegally and want to suck the resources. However, there are some who also want to work hard, making their way struggling as they fight the good fight for their square on the America quilt. They are trying their best just like my rels did once upon a time. As for the Arabs, many work hard and want to be good Americans just like my family members were once upon a time.

One thing age and wisdom has taught me is that we are all people. We want the same things and for the most part want to be left alone. Exposure has taught me assholes come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Idiot speak is universal. So is honest, hardworker speak. Actually, come to think of it there is nothing to be scared of. For the most part we are boring.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com

Winning Against January

This past week has been tough. I hate January. It is the winter. Unlike any of the other months of the year it really doesn’t have anything special or do anything. January is the ugly sister of all the months. The plain looking one who didn’t get into the Ivy League and continues to whine. February you have Valentine’s Day. March is St. Patrick’s Day-alcoholic training day. April is usually Easter. May is Memorial Day aka the beginning of summer. June has no holidays but is warm so we let it slide, aka the pretty girl with no brain. July is Independence. August again, no holidays but she is the playboy model of the year, hot and nothing else. September is Labor Day, and although it is back to school it is also the beginning of football. October is Halloween. November Thanksgiving. Oh and December is sparkling, smart, and annoying with Christmas aka The Vassar Girl.

January has always been a rough month for me. Growing up it meant snow days. School always seemed like prison so it was a way to escape. I went sled riding with my brother Wendell and my sister Skipper. Sometimes we watched trashy day time talkshows, there were plenty when I was a kid. We watched them, that is, until our mother turned them off. Just because there was no school didn’t mean there wasn’t any learning. Of course it was always a rough month because I was bullied relentlessly in school as it was. I wasn’t outgoing. I struggled with my weight. Early on I had cystic acne. My mother picked out my clothes. Looking back, it is funny but the cold always made the word stings all the more bitter.

I remember one January in particular was tough. I was eight and in second grade. My teacher was insane. She was later fired for having psych issues after she ranted and began throwing chalk. Anyway, she insisted I was ADHD or had dyslexia. I will admit maybe I have a dash of the two. My mom’s youngest sister is severely dyslexic. However, this bitch wanted to test me over and over. To boot I was sick a bunch. I remember coming back from having strep throat. She gave me a math test and I failed it. I failed most of my math tests on the regular as it was. Anyway I got an F that semester, and my parents threatened to sue the bitch for being so crazy. Oh and she was telling other teachers about my progress. Later that year I was switched to a different second grade class where my grades shot up rapidly. Still I always get sick when I think of school and math. Even to this day, I picture myself as a fat woman who has no one with sixty cats on welfare in housing the government pays for when it gets cold. In this tragic tableau, my cats have their own blankets and I am eating Fluffer Nutter out of the jar with my hand. That was the way those people made me feel. Maybe this is why I am so gentle when I speak and deal with young people, because I know that many that do shouldn’t. But there is a part of me who pictures my imaginary cats with rabies ripping this bitch’s face off. Fuck you, it’s the way I feel.

.

I also hate January because when I was sixteen I was really struggling with an AP course load in high school. I still remember getting a premature progress report for a class in which I finished with an A plus. My dad remarked that my parents would be lucky if they could get me into some unnamed state school. Of course at this point, my brother was going to Brown. He had played football. I was a reject that wore dark clothes, dark makeup, and wrote poetry. Things changed the following year when I got a role in the musical though. Sure, my parents were concerned. They should have been. My future, however, felt as bleak as the winter landscape. It just reinforced the whole sixty cats, overweight with no future imagine burned in my mind. Needless to say I finished the year in the National Honor Society and later went to NYU. I did alright for myself.

Then of course at nineteen I had earned admission to NYU by some act of God, but the act of God didn’t last cause I was rapidly flunking out. I hated my spoiled classmates who were from prep schools and seemingly had been in therapy since they were children. My weight went up and down like the price of gold. In writing class it was a disaster, despite having talent in that area I was flunking. Sure I was one of the best actors in my high school, if not the best. Now I was being told every acting class how I just didn’t have it. Except for two, most of my acting teachers hated me. Some of it was because I was a young woman. One in particular was rather frightening. She had been the star pupil slated for success. They told her she was going to be one of the greats. Instead, when she left college the rest of the world didn’t get the message, and she found herself working odd jobs like everyone else. I used to go at it with this woman, and for as hard as I worked I never did anything right. Well I got the option to switch out and did. Through the experience, I had upperclassmen guide me. I learned not to be so hard on my peers, too. People weren’t always going to be like me, and our differences would unite us. As for the rest of my college experience, gold. Then I realized no one likes freshmen year.

And then January was when the relationship with the abusive former fiancé was at it’s worst. Partially because of his drunken antics, he destroyed not one but two living situations for me. I still remember I tried dumping him as we were walking down the street. Screaming that he loved me, he attempted to throw himself into traffic. I was sick after this. Rather than run I decided to stay because when he told me things were different, I believed him. Around this time, my friends began to confront me. I was losing a lot of weight very quickly, partially because of the stress of being with a partner who was emotionally and physically abusive. I also was hanging out less, because I didn’t want people to know how bad it had gotten. My friends who were wonderful thought I didn’t love them anymore. In reality, I was pledging allegiance to the bully I called my significant other. I didn’t want them to see the black and blue marks on my arm where he had grabbed me. I didn’t want them to see how he was trying to control my comedy career, and forced me to give up the thing I love most, my puppets. I got out of that relationship by the skin of my teeth. I now have a separate mailing address. But it helped me turn my life around, and I have been using the visibility from national television to speak out against dating violence. Truth, dating is still hard. Trust is next to impossible. The experience was as lonely as the streets on New York on a sub-zero, January night.

Of course then there was the January where the market popped. The telegrams had all but dried. I went from being slated for a TV pilot to handing out fliers on the sidewalk. I told myself it would get better as I got minor frost bite several times over. The girls I worked with were drunken party animals that I despised. Most of the time they didn’t focus and just talked about other’s behind their backs. It didn’t get better. That whole year was just a mess. I had one friend die as a result of a drug overdose, and an acquaintance’s murder make front page news. For the first time I questioned my path and my life. Since that New Year’s Day when I was on the toilet with food poisoning, I have been incredibly superstitious when it comes to a new year. I don’t look forward to it like I did during childhood. I have a set of OCD like rituals. Granted, over time I did change my luck by changing by attitude. Still, I will never forget freezing in the cold outside of a building I had filmed in a few months earlier. Humble pie at it’s worst.These days, because of that shitty experience, I am gun shy when there are signs of success. I know how quickly they can disappear. And that is why I am an egomaniac sometimes. I know how hard they are to hold on to.

This January was just as jarring. Yesterday found my nerves shot after a scathing hate note I received in regards to my videos. When I clicked to block the man I saw KKK icons and such on his page. It was all this junk about white power. The memes that weren’t white power were women being brutally raped and disfigured. Even though I got good news I had nightmares all evening. The reason this hit me so hard is that there was racial violence in my area growing up. After a group of police killed a black man at a traffic stop, tensions were high. A week later a black man wandered the street with a rifle wanting to shoot any white person he saw. The black community apologized and assured us all that he was a sick man, and they were using peaceful protest. Then shortly after the officers were acquitted, a black family moved to that town and they were “burnt out,” iron cross and all. I remember my father being upset, using the daddy lesson moment to tell us that this was not acceptable in any way. Truth is, this made us all look bad. Point is, while it was not Mississippi Burning racial violence is scary. There is a certain element of evil that occurs when the white robes are dawned and the cross is lit. Being bullied as a child and then having an abusive partner as an adult, I don’t like bullying for any reason, hate crimes included.

And then I found out my insurance runs out in September. Oh and I had a huge fight with my mother. Finally, I told her about the KKK hate letter and how this man made my stomach turn. My mom thought it was horrible as did everyone else I told. However my mom informed me he was gum on the bottom of my shoe and to just wipe him off. Someone else informed me that people like that need to wear masks because they are cowards, like any other bully. A writer friend told me to spend less time on the internet. Of course the best part was this young man was Mexican which made it all the more ironic. A black friend of mine, a fellow comedian who lives in the South, put it best. This speaks volumes because he lived close to it. He said, “He sounds like a confused fool.”

Today my mother and I spoke about me exploring more career opportunities with my writing. Some for artistic fulfillment, but also for financial security as I wait for some “yes” or “no’s”. As the temperature dropped and it seemed that everyone’s dreams were coming true, I pictured myself at eight. I was scared I would end up an unloved failure on government assistance with cats. Then at sixteen, the starry eyed outcast. And again at nineteen, crying in the back of a college dorm room. And again at twenty one, needing to leave a toxic partner but frightened for my safety if I did. I owed something to the April’s of January’s past. I owed it to them to wear my big girl pants and not let life get me down.

I began asking questions about insurance and saw there were several options. People reached out to help. I also decided to get out of my house and stop worrying about the career yes’s and no’s. I fought back against the KKK dude the only way I knew how. I got behind the mic and made it into a bit. While it needs some work, it did rather well. Yesterday that twisted clown made me cry, and today he is the butt of my joke. Even though I paid for stage time, I was able to laugh therefore I was able to win. At that moment I realized my second grade teacher probably read in my town paper that I wrote a book and had a successful signing. The acting teachers that hated me are still griping about the careers they don’t have, and I am on television sometimes. The former fiancé lashes out when I am successful, and was a great comedy bit for sometime. I don’t know what is going to pop whether it is my writing, acting, comedy, puppets, singing or whatever else.

However, I know that I can’t let people steal my sunlight. God didn’t take me this far to drop me in the Valley. Sometimes not knowing is the most wonderous thing ever, because what happens next is truly beautiful. Like any cold day, this too shall pass. Take that January.

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

www.aprilbrucker.com