My wonderful Mother Grace Crane stepped out of here 6 years ago. I think of Gracie, as we all called her, often. Sometimes with a tear in my eye, but usually with a smile. My Mom was warm and generous, elegant and kind, and she had a gentle wisdom that in my experience is the secret weapon of Irish women. She would tell us that everything is ok in moderation while warning us that nothing in excess is ever good. She tried to find the best in everyone, even those who had no damn good in them, let alone the best. She could have written the Golden Rule, because she treated everyone like they were the only person in her universe and deserving of her love and respect.
Unless you crossed her. Then she treated you like a baby treats a diaper. She had zero tolerance for unkind behavior and zero patience for stupid behavior. Over the Mother’s Day weekend, we got this joke–from the land of the woke. The Ministry of Cancel Culture issued an edict that the special women who brought us into the world and gave us the tools to survive it, should now be referred to as “birthing people”.
Why suddenly do we need a gender neutral, let alone stupid term for Mother? Now I was barely able to get out of High School Biology with a B- and a dissected baby pig, but I’m pretty convinced that even fans of the trans will agree that the maternity ward is a no man’s land. Even those who have exhausted the realm of gender realignment need not squint at the sonogram to learn what they’re carrying. Nothing! Even surrogates are, sorry, mothers!
Had I greeted Gracie with the term birthing person, I could be greeted with the term injured person as the wooden spoon or high heeled pumps, her weapons of choice, would find their mark. Never bring a knife to a high heeled pump fight. Gracie loved history and she would have been appalled at the WOKE FOLKS ignorance of the times our forefathers lived in, and the vandalizing and destruction to statues…Abe Lincoln? Hello. Of course, if she had been alive, a number of Antifa goons would have stopped occupying Portland for high heel and wooden spoon lacerations.
Go woke, go broke. All these woke induced spending bills from President Biden—he may be woke but he ain’t awake…are sending Uncle Sam into paper poverty.
And stop this nonsense about white privilege and institutional racism. I had no say in being born white.
Good people don’t need to Read the Book Of Woke. They treat people the right way. Bad people don’t listen to anybody, so the woke folk might as well grab a toke….they’ll be ignored. BUT BY A VAST MARGIN, THERE ARE MORE GOOD PEOPLE IN THIS COUNTRY THAN BAD.
We don’t go through life based on what a bunch of half assed Marxists want us to do. We roll based on our own experience and what we learned from it. Real life experiences that put real life in perspective. Clearly some were better than others, but each experience affirms this every day takeaway. You will have good days and bad days and just, unremarkable days. Enjoy the highs, deal with the lows and know that neither one can make you or break you or define you.
We sometimes think in our high tech 21st century world that we are better, smarter and more enlightened than any generation before us.
Really?
I don’t know if we have the collective will to beat a Hitler. No way would we have Truman’s resolve on the issue of atomic war. What passes for culture, mixed martial arts, rap music and the Kardashians will not usher in a second Renaissance. We are told how to think, how to speak, how to treat the planet. We may not know it, but we are being drafted to fight a class war, and the enemy is us. At the University of North Carolina, where the fight song should be Kumbaya, students are lectured about routine conversation. In one example, the community is lectured about telling others about plans for a weekend golf outing, because not everyone can afford to play golf. Not only is that an assault on personal freedom and expression, it’s an attack on the truth. North Carolina has so many nice, public golf courses, one can play for about the cost of an iTunes album or a Netflix flick.
America 2021. Truth is on life support and the next of kin have been notified.
These 21st Century liberal weasels need to read a bit more. And laugh a lot more . And if you haven’t read Dan Jenkins, grab any of his books. Before anyone texted L-O-L….his readers were doing it. Old Dan was on to something. When the free world is being governed by a nice old coot, who can’t finish a sentence and probably wears a mask in the shower, after four years of an egomaniac who went bankrupt owning casinos and paid a porn star more than California pays the Governor, you have to laugh. Because as Jenkins wrote: “Laughter is the only thing that’ll cut trouble down to a size where you can talk to it.”