J.P.

Dear Donald Trump.

Dear Donald Trump,

I can’t bring myself to put the words of “President” and “Trump” adjacent to each other because I don’t think you really wanted the job as much as you wanted the notoriety, so please understand when I refer to you as “Mr. Trump”. I still respect the office of the President of the United States, probably more so than some of the folks in your administration. I also have respect for when I’m visiting a location other than my own home and I don’t put my feet up on their couch. But I digress.

I want to thank you, Mr. Trump, for kicking my apathetic little butt and helping me find my way to education, protest and standing up for my beliefs again. Because of your empowerment to those that enjoy and embrace being racist, homophobic, religious-phobic and the like, I no longer tolerate people telling off-colored jokes about minorities in my presence. I reject those that make homophobic remarks even though “they have gay friends”. Instead of being silent, I speak out. I speak up. You have empowered me.

My internalized self-homophobia, something that I have lived with for much of my life, has dissipated. At 48 years old I am no longer afraid to be a gay man. I won’t be bullied. I won’t be afraid of who I am. I won’t be ashamed of who I am. I am the gay man that God intended me to be and anyone that can’t give me or my family the respect we deserve has no place in my life. I’m no longer afraid to say “no”. I’m no longer afraid to sever ties that were damaging, lest I settle for second best. I’m worthy of top prize, and you made me realize that.

I care about the LGBTQ community again. I no longer see gender as binary. I care about us and what will happen to us, all of us, under your administration. I’m not going to sit on the sidelines and let others speak for me. I will not tolerate my rights being determined by a bunch of old, white men who have no interest outside of monetary gain and power. I have found my voice. I will lend my voice. I have found my passion again. I have found my fire. The weekend after your election I participated in a protest for the first time in nearly 30 years. I’m sure it won’t be my last.

But most importantly, I know what the United States of America can be and I will fight and do everything I can do to make our country of the people for the people. All people. I have no fear. I am not afraid of being heard. I will do everything I can to keep you in check. I will join the chorus of voices that proclaim that we should be building bridges, not walls.

So thank you, Mr. Trump, for making me realize I can’t sit back and just let things happen. It’s time to bring this folly to an end and I believe those wheels are fully in motion.

And I’m going to do everything to make sure those wheels turn faster and faster.

Surgery Complete.

My final surgery for my “plumbing problem” was completed yesterday. Now, it’s just six weeks of recovery and I’ll be as good as new. I can work in the meanwhile. I can’t fly airplanes for three weeks or so. I’ve learned to accept that.

The surgery went well. It was six hours long. I was surprised at that for I thought it would be a two hour surgery. My parts are packed in tight and the pain is quite manageable. I’m on some pretty good meds, so this is fun.

I found out that folks from all over the country come to my doctor for this type of procedure. He invented it and has one of the highest success rates in the world. He also fixes older procedures for patients all over the country. I’m confident that everything is going to be fantastic when all is said and done.

One thing that I learned about my doctor is that he is one of the leading urologists for gender reassignment procedures. I’ve always been worried about the gay thing with my doctors but the worry has been for nothing.

There are good people in the world

Twitter.

I have a fairly old Twitter account. I was tweeting before the days of smartphones, when you would send a text message to a number and your tweet would appear. I’ve always enjoyed the concept of Twitter, a chronological, live feed of whoever had the same interests as you. It was a great way to hear what was happening in other parts of the world. Early on I realized it was excellent for finding out about news instantaneously.

Then something changed. Twitter became political. Twitter became about branding. Twitter ramped up the self promotion. Everyone was jumping on Twitter to add their voice to the chorus, to the screaming. Ever since the run up to and especially since the 2016 U.S. Elections, Twitter has become a swamp. A moat of a swamp around the dumpster fire that has overtaken Washington, D.C. The President of the United States, bless his heart, belches out tweets with regular irregularity, trying to distract the populace from the real travesty (his administration). Folks attack one another. People call each other names.

But the better thing about Twitter is that people also unite. Protests get organized. Voices are heard. Electronic chants are shared. And despite all the screaming and the name calling and the raging dumpster fire, Twitter gives people a voice. 

And voices deserve to be heard.

I keep thinking I’m going to work in negating my social media presence but those thoughts are folly. I have a voice. I want to tweet. I want my voice to be heard.

Even if it’s on the edge of a raging dumpster fire.

31 Days.

I am making a commitment to write at least one blog entry every day during the month of March. This little challenge is to write a blog entry with a bit of substance. I need to say something instead of just posting a photo or a music video or something. I feel like I need to continue to contribute to the ever shrinking blogosphere. Perhaps this challenge will spark a return of the blog as a form of electronic expression. Written prose fueled by thought is better than burping out 140 characters on Twitter or dropping an intentional short-fused bomb on Facebook.

The key to maintaining this blogging habit is to remain committed to the task. With my final surgery scheduled for Friday and spring just around the corner, I’m feeling like I’m in a “reboot” mood. It’s time to grab a hold of what’s left of 2017, take it by storm and mold it to what I wish it to be. 

I suppose there’s been a lot of people feeling political depression since the latter half of January when our new president (and I use that term loosely) took office and started treating the White House like a second rate Walmart. If you take a step back and assess the entire picture, you can totally see the ilk of Kellyanne Conway in sweat pants and smeared mascara making her way through the “family planning” aisle after midnight at your local Walmart. Just close your eyes and imagine it. It’s really not that hard?

I’m sorry for that picture.

Earl and I are currently sitting in our local Panera, our iPads with keyboards back to back. I have my back to the wall, something I always tend to do in public, which gives me a birds eye view of what’s happening in this little chestnut of a pastry shop with casual service and casual food. A worker just used a stepladder to climb up on the counter where food is served. She walked across the counter swiping at something near the ceiling before stepping back down in a bit of a ruckus. The food on the counter was unfazed. No worries.

This is substance? 

The Fighter.

I have loved this song since first seeing it performed live on the Grammys a couple of weeks ago.   I’ve been cranking it up in the Jeep. It’s putting me in a springtime mood.

Enjoy Keith Urban with Carrie Underwood and “The Fighter”.

#EqualLove

H/T to Dave at Blogography for sharing this Australian commercial. A good way to start the day.

To help with context, as Dave explained in his blog post:

I love advertising that really makes you think, and this ad from Australia is absolutely brilliant in getting its point across. Before watching, it may be helpful to know that Aussies use BBQ sauce the way Americans use ketchup. And Aussie tomato sauce is much like ketchup except not… For an equivalent American context, the guy telling his dad he likes tomato sauce is the equivalent to going to Chicago and telling the hotdog vendor that you want ketchup on your dog.

Sun.

A couple of weeks ago the groundhog said we had six more weeks until spring. Apparently he looked the wrong way when he was looking for his shadow because Mother Nature has decided to bless us with unusually warm weather this week.

Getting out in the sunshine has been doing wonders for my psyche. I’ve been feeling kind of blah, which is typical for me for this time of year, and being between my two surgeries hasn’t really helped the situation. Luckily my second surgery is a week from Friday and then it’ll be just a few weeks of recovery before things should be normal again.

Stepping out onto the lawn today and not going up to my knees in snow in the latter half of February was very refreshing. I don’t see any signs of dandelions yet, not even the precocious ones, but they can’t be that far away.

Because of the beautiful weather I’m in the mood to look for bright spots and one of them is that as a result of the Trump Administration, we’ll probably be having shorter winters and less snowfall as time goes on. Hopefully I’ll be checked out before the rivers boil.

In the meanwhile I’m just going to enjoy the warmth and sunny skies.

Sides.

Look, I’m not a fan of the current presidential administration. I’ll be the first to admit that. I didn’t think Hillary was a great choice in November but I thought she was the best choice at the time. The majority of voters in the United States agreed with me but logistics made things swing the other way and here we are three and a half weeks into a Trump presidency and it’s a dumpster fire at best.

The thing is, I just want what’s best for our country. We need a stable government in Washington. A raging dumpster fire led by a man that has no idea what he’s doing does not lend itself to stability. Talking about international affairs in the restaurant of a golf club does not lend itself to stability. I could go on about lies and the spinning and all that but anyone with a three-digit IQ can see through the spin.

The problem is that there’s a whole bunch of folks with double-digit IQs out there.

These folks see this as a glorified football game or reality show. One side might resoundingly beat the other side, no matter the cost, even if it means destroying the country as part of the process. The Republicans should be doing what’s right for their country, not what’s right for their party. With all of these ties to Russia coming to light, if Hillary was sitting in the big chair right now the Republican party would be bending over backwards to get her out of there as quickly as possible. But Speaker Paul Ryan is trying to move forward and not even really interested in pursuing an investigation until he obtains more information (which, last I knew, was the purpose of an investigation).

Look, I think Trump should be out of there and I’d be willing to bet some money that the man is not going to make it through his four-year term, but at this point I just want some solid answers and more importantly, a stable government that isn’t consumed by raging partisan politics as teams line up on either side of the aisle. We need to work together to make this better, even if it means making some tough, unprecedented choices along the way.

Don’t pick a side. Choose to do what’s best.

SAD.

I’m starting to really feel the effects of SAD or Seasonal Affective Disorder. Every year I go into the winter determined to not feel the winter blues but sure enough we go with three straight weeks of grey skies and I start to bum out a little bit.

There is some sun today, and I feel a little brighter for it, though it is still 17ºF with a wind chill of 8ºF at the moment. This weekend is suppose to be up around 40 and I find this encouraging.

To help counter the winter blues I occasionally start marching around the United States via Google Maps and look at sunny landscapes of places I’d like to visit or visit again.

In 2003 I drove home from Emmetsburg, Iowa after completing a computer training class in that lovely part of the world. I remember driving across the Iowa-Minnesota border on Route 4 and so I just picked a random spot along that route to gaze at for a few moments. I could almost feel the sun and warm breezes on my face again. The smell of the surrounding farms brought a smile to my face.

Every little bit of something helps.