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Now That It's Over
Nov 6, 2008
Now that the election is over, I just wanted to share some of my feelings.
 
I have a difficult time putting into words how strongly I felt about electing Barack Obama. I have to go back to when I was a little girl, and watched much of the Civil Rights struggles on TV. I can remember watching news reports of people being blasted with fire hoses. I remember seeing images of big white men standing in schoolhouse doorways blocking black students from entering. I couldn't understand how one person could treat another person in that way. Those images had a profound impact on me.
 
I grew up in the north. I went to an all white school. My parents worked with people of color, and there were times we would have company picnics and I would play with the other children. I never thought anything about it. They were just other kids.
 
As I grew older I began hearing things people would say. I am horrified to recall my dad saying nasty things, and I would often stand up to him about it. To his credit, he encouraged my thinking for myself.
 
The summer between 9th and 10th grade, a family from Mexico moved into the neighborhood across the street from my high school. One would have thought the world was coming to an end! Parents were up in arms. Some of the kids were terrified to think they would have to be in class with one of "those" kids. Many of us thought nothing of it. In fact, the kids in that family became very popular. I tended to be one of the quiet ones, and I watched how others behaved and listened to what they said.
 
In my senior year we had a class called American Problems. It was a great class, and the teacher encouraged us to think. Just before Thanksgiving break, he gave us an assignment in class; make a list of the 5 things we were most grateful for. My answers were pretty common as I recall, along the lines of family. Quite a few kids actually wrote "I am thankful I am white." That astonished me. I had not included in my identity the fact that I am white. It just wasn't part of my concept. A wonderful discussion ensued in class about racial issues. I began thinking more about the topic again, remembering the images I saw as a young girl.
 
When I went to college I made friends with a widely diverse group. I was a complete flower child, full of hope for the future, protesting the war, demanding an end to nuclear weapons, demanding equal rights for women, demanding justice for everyone, and making friends with people quite different from those I had been associated with in high school. I read voraciously and watched the news every night. One of my best friends was a black student, a male black student. When my dad found out he hit the roof. I found that very disturbing, yet I loved my dad and didn't want to disappoint him. My friend understood that our friendship had to remain a classroom friendship. We didn't associate outside the classroom, not even in the student union. As I look back on that, I feel ashamed. He was my friend, and I feel as though I abandoned his friendship. (And when I say friend, I do mean FRIEND.....nothing else----I shouldn't even need to say that, but I know that some of you reading this will wonder!) (and why should that even matter to me???)
 
As time went on I became more vocal about my outlook on the world. I stood up more for my beliefs. I would debate more. (and I was EXTREMELY shy!) I more fully developed my belief that all of us, every single person on this planet, is deserving of respect just for being a human being. We all are born, we breathe, we bleed, we hurt, we feel, we cry, we laugh, we get angry, we get sad, we get happy, we love, we are all the same...............yet we are also so very different, unique. I believe that just by virtue of being alive we deserve shelter, food, water, clothing, health care.....all those things that keep us alive. Is that radical? If so, then call me a radical. I no longer care what labels others put on me. That's one of the wonderful things about aging.
 
The election of Barack Obama means so many things to me. I never thought I would see the day when a black person was elected to be president of the United States. I voted for him in the primary. People I love told me, "he'll never win because he's black. America isn't ready for a black president." I kept saying yes we can and yes we are. I saw in him the hope I felt with Bobby Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King. I saw in him a strength and leadership that doesn't come along very often. I saw an intelligence that was beyond that of most anyone I can think of.
 
I would get emails from people full of the hate-mongering and fear-mongering permeating our country. I would usually respond back with factual information, and implore them to seek out the truth. It probably didn't do any good, but I felt better for doing it. Some of you receiving this are those who sent me those emails (if you've even read this far).
 
When the announcement came Tuesday night that Barack Obama won, I was so full of joy and pride. I was happy my candidate won (which hasn't happened often!), but I was happier that our country got past the racial barrier! What a glorious time to be alive!
 
And I still, to this day, do not have as part of my concept of myself the fact that I am white. I don't consider it important.
 
debbye
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Posted: Nov 6, 2008 5:23pm
Close Guantanamo!!
Jan 10, 2008
Please, Join the Protest to Close Guantanamo Bay Prison by wearing Orange January 11, 2008. You can also protest by posting the Close Guantanamo Bay Prison Button on your Blog. You can get the button at the ACLU Web Page (www.aclu.org ). The Protest is January 11, 2008.
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Posted: Jan 10, 2008 4:39pm
Close Guantanamo
Jan 10, 2008
Please, Join the Protest to Close Guantanamo Bay Prison by wearing Orange January 11, 2008. You can also protest by posting the Close Guantanamo Bay Prison Button on your Blog. You can get the button at the ACLU Web Page (www.aclu.org ). The Protest is January 11, 2008.
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Posted: Jan 10, 2008 4:35pm
A Quick Thank You!
Oct 13, 2007
I just have to say Thank You to everyone who posted a comment, sent a message, and/or sent a star for my birthday.

I don't have much time to be here at C2 these days. It's very heartwarming to know that my friends have not forgotten about me, and were able to take the time to send me birthday wishes.

Thank you all, very much!!!
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Posted: Oct 13, 2007 9:06pm
What's The Point?
Jun 21, 2007
Who really cares?

Sometimes it's all a waste of time.

Chuck it all and start over.

Whatever.
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Posted: Jun 21, 2007 5:48pm
Travel Tribulations Continued
Jun 14, 2007
Continuation of http://www.care2.com/c2c/share/detail/399120

Ok, so now I had my ashtray (guess one needs to be a smoker to understand). After relaxing for awhile, I decided I was off to the Hard Rock for dinner and souvenir shopping. After a glorious and sunny day, the rain decided to come down just as I was leaving the hotel. Never being one to let a little rain bother me, I grabbed my umbrella from my purse and off I went. (I carry my life in my purse!) Up a hill. I hate walking up hills!

I have very little cartilage in my knees, and they were already burning from my trek through the airport from the day before. But, I was not to be deterred from my destination.

The Hard Rock carries Pepsi products. Seeing as how I don't like Pepsi, I ordered a Dr. Pepper. The server brought my soda, I took a sip and practically gagged! I don't know what it was, but it certainly wasn't Dr. Pepper. She insisted it was, but offered to get me something else. I opted for root beer. I enjoyed my dinner, watching videos of AC/DC, U2, the Police, Hoobestank, and soaking up the atmosphere. I got my obligatory Hard Rock T-Shirt to add to my collection and traipsed back to my room. Downhill this time. (I'm glad it wasn't the other way around) LOL

Those who know me are aware that I collect Coca-Cola memorabilia. May 24 of this year marked the opening of World of Coca-Cola in Atlanta, very near the Underground. I was planning on taking a taxi there and peruse the goodies. I called them and found out they closed at 6:00. I was disappointed, but figured I'd just stay in and watch TV, something I rarely do. The hotel didn't carry my favorite channel (MSNBC), and regardless of how often I flipped through the stations, I could find nothing of interest. I did find out, on my TV surfing, there was a severe thunderstorm warning for the Atlanta area.

My room, while not a suite (by my definition), was a corner room and had large windows on two sides. I watched as the storm rolled in and saw some amazing lightning as a backdrop to the lit skyline of Atlanta. After awhile I snuggled in bed and dozed off and on while the history channel ran stories of the destruction of the earth.

Morning came and it was time to get ready for my trip home. Given the few items I purchased and the materials from the conference, I had more to take home than I had brought. One medium size suitcase, a backpack, and my purse. I had to get creative and figure out a way to get everything packed. After several times of packing, unpacking, and packing again; I finally managed to get all the liquid things that wouldn't fit in a small baggie into my suitcase. I checked out and went to wait for the Link.

The trip to the airport was quick, and the line to check in was long. The woman standing at the entrance to the line told me I needed to get my boarding pass at the kiosk. I began entering the information when the screen told me I needed to enter my confirmation number. I pulled out the paperwork I had gotten from work.....no confirmation number could be found. I went through that paperwork several times, while precariously steadying my suitcase, protecting my open purse, and balancing my now open backpack looking for that number. After several frustrating minutes, and trying not to let any semblance of panic set in, I thought that possibly the confirmation number could be found on my ticket to Atlanta. I dug through my purse and voila! There was my confirmation number. I entered it, and the message on the screen informed me there was no information to be found to match that number. Surely I entered the number incorrectly. So, I entered it again, double checking each letter and number. Same thing, no information to be found to match that number.

I returned to the woman at the entrance to the line, which thankfully had shrunk, and she let me enter and told me to just let the agent know.

When it was my turn to check my bag the agent asked for my boarding pass. I explained what happened, he rolled his eyes and was visibly irritated. (whatever, I thought to myself) He did his thing, and stamped my boarding pass with the dreaded words "See check-in agent." I groaned inside, figuring I was not going to enjoy the experience. I then headed inside the airport.

I thought about having a quick smoke prior to entering, but remembering there were smoking lounges inside, I decided my best bet was to get checked in at the gate first. When I entered the airport I could not believe my eyes. The line for security was twisting and turning throughout the entire baggage area!! There were news crews there reporting on the mess. I'm sure I ended up being a blip on the evening news in Atlanta.

The line wasn't moving, and I began worrying that I wouldn't make my flight. The woman in front of me voiced her worry about missing her flight, which was 20 minutes after mine. She and I began talking. She lived just outside Atlanta, was a frequent flyer, and told me she had never seen the line even close to this long.

The airport employees were herding us like cattle, this way and that, through one aisle then another. What a wonderful way to promote camaraderie amongst travelers!

Finally, I could see daylight! There were the little buckets to place items in for screening. I placed my things in the buckets, walked through the scanner and went to gather my things. A TSA agent held up my purse and asked me, "Ma'am, is this your bag?" My heart sank! What could I have forgotten??? He pulled out my zippo lighter. (which, I might add, has been in my purse for a few years and has gone through several airport screenings-it didn't even cross my mind!) I have a small collection of zippo lighters, and that particular lighter is the only one I have ever used. I haven't used it in a few years, and just keep it with me for sentimental reasons. So, we get a supervisor over, because I am not willing to relinquish my zippo.

I know a TSA agent, and I know I was told by him that one zippo lighter could make it through. However, as you can imagine, that didn't fly with them. The supervisor informed me I had 3 options. One, I could give it to someone to hold for me. (I told him there wasn't anyone there since I was there on business and was on my way home) Two, I could send it to myself. (I told him I had no way to get to a post office, and if I could I would not be able to get back in time to make my flight) Three, I could contribute it to the TSA lighters. (I won't say what my response was to that!) I must admit, I did give him a bit of a difficult time, but not too much because I didn't want to get hauled away!! Finally, he told me there was a post office in the airport. So, he walked me back through different points in security, and instructing the agents at the points to let me through to the beginning of the line when I returned.

I got to the post office, got an envelope, and posted my lighter to me. I go back through security and hustle to get to my flight. When I finally get to my concourse, I discover that my gate is at the end of the concourse. My knees are burning (that darn cartilage), I need to use the restroom, I need to get something to drink, and I really wanted a smoke! The line at my gate was long, so I ran quickly to the restroom. I stopped at a vending machine and got a bottle of coke. I go up to the desk with my boarding pass and ID. Hardly anyone is left outside the entrance, and the ticket agent doesn't even acknowledge my presence. She is calling out names and assigning seats. When she finally calls my name off I go to get on the plane. Four minutes before departure time.

I sit down, grab a xanax, buckle up, and take a deep breath. The woman sitting next to me starts talking about crashing into the ocean and getting eaten by sharks. Once we're in the air, I just close my eyes and doze off.

I think I'll just avoid Atlanta in the future.
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Posted: Jun 14, 2007 6:57pm
Travel Tribulations
Jun 13, 2007
I've always enjoyed traveling. There's something about it that speaks to my soul. So when my supervisor said she wanted me to travel to Atlanta for a workshop I was elated!

Monday, June 11, I catch a flight from PBI to Atlanta. The flight was unremarkable until we were about 20 minutes from landing. The turbulence hit. As I grabbed hold of the armrests and looked around at my fellow passengers, I could see the looks of concern. I actually became nauseous, and flying has never been an issue for me.

We finally land, (15 minutes early at 5:15 p.m.) then sit, and sit, and sit. Looking out the windows several other plances were also sitting. After an hour we were finally allowed to deplane. I placed a call to my son asking him to check online for delays in Atlanta. Evidently there were strong storms in New Jersey and New York that delayed departures, resulting in delayed landings. A quick stop at the restroom for relief, then another quick stop in the smoking lounge.

Walking through the concourse, finding the signs leading to baggage claim. Walking, walking, walking, continuing to follow the signs pointing to baggage claim. This was my first time at Atlanta's airport, and I was already feeling not quite fond of it. There are trains along side the walkway, but the signs for the trains aren't quite clear. At some point, I determined that I was able to take the train to baggage claim.

I get to baggage claim. No big signs indicating which carousels were for which airlines. So, I start going along the different ones, peering at the small signs looking for my airline. The last carousel was mine (something about Murphy's Law runs through my mind).

Next step was to find the shuttle I needed to take to my hotel. Ground transportation, aha, I think, that's the direction I need to go. Cute images of shuttles in different colors to indicate which type of shuttle for each area. The one for hotels were pink. I make it there, after walking for quite a bit, and scan the shuttles in the area looking for my hotel. No luck. I light another cigarette and wait for more shuttles to appear. After about 15 minutes, I find a friendly looking flight attendant and inquire about the shuttle for my hotel. She informed me that the one I needed had left a little bit ago after boarding soldiers, but another one ought to be along shortly. So, I wait, and wait. I finally asked one of the shuttle drivers about my particular shuttle. He informed me I needed to go to the next area over, as the area I was in was only for hotels around the airport. (I was headed for downtown Atlanta)

Off I go to head to the other area. Walking along there I noticed all those shuttles appeared to be for parking areas. I ask a porter how I might find the shuttle I needed, he didn't know. I find a driver and he tells me I needed to go to the pink shuttle area. Needless to say, by this time I was starting to feel extremely frustrated. I called the hotel, asked them where I would find the shuttle for the hotel. Ground transportation was the answer I received, which was where I was at. By this point my face must have shown some concern, as drivers for several shuttles began asking me if I needed some assistance. After being told by a few that they didn't know where I needed to go, one driver pointed me in the direction of the airport where I exited baggage claim and said I needed to go there alongside the building and find "Link."

So, I headed back looking for something called Link. Aha, I saw a couple shuttles labeled Link. I found my shuttle!

I purchase my ticket and get aboard. We sit there for about 15 minutes, then off we go. My hotel was the first stop. Yea, I think. Finally I can get to my room, get some food, take a shower and get to bed!

I go to the registration desk armed with my confirmation papers, and am informed that "We're sorry, but we are all filled up. We don't have a room for you." I was dumbstruck!! My reservation had been made 6 weeks previously! Well, it seemed that one company decided they were going to stay for another night, resulting in many people showing up not having rooms!!! I was informed they were going to send me to another hotel and would pick me up in the morning to return from my conference. I was not happy, to say the least, but there was nothing I could do other than go to the other hotel.

At 10:50 p.m. I was finally in my room! Four and 1/2 hours since I had landed in Atlanta!!

In the morning I awoke to find a bill under my door. I had been told that the cost of my stay there would be covered by the hotel where I was supposed to have stayed! I get on the phone to the original hotel and was informed that my reservation was only for one night. Uh, no, I tell her, my reservation was for 2 nights! She gave me the number for customer service and I called them. The woman I spoke with was very nice. She listened to my saga, then promised she would call me within an hour. Less than 5 minutes later I get a phone call from the night manager of the original hotel. He informs me that yes, I do have a room for the night, and that I should not have received a bill, and he said he would contact the hotel where I was and make sure they knew the bill was to be charged to them. He said that in order to help make up for the inconvenience he would set me up in a suite. When I inquired as to whether it was a smoking room or not, he said he would make a notation that I would be allowed to smoke in the room. He also told me that if I wished I could take a taxi back to the hotel and they would pay the driver once we arrived.

So, I get ready, go through my morning routine, and go downstairs to check out. Yes, the manager from the original hotel had called and I was given a corrected bill indicating no charge. I go outside, get in a taxi, and end up back at my original hotel.

The conference was great. Entertaining and educational, well worth my time.

When I went to the registration desk I was set up with my room and informed it was a no smoking room Uh huh, I was promised a smoking room. The clerk said yes, there was a notation that I was to be allowed to smoke, and a bell hop would bring up an ashtray. I finally get to my room (if that was a suite, I would hate to see a "regular" room!!)

The ashtray wasn't delivered, so I went down to the gift shop, found an ashtray, and returned to my room.

More to come................
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Posted: Jun 13, 2007 6:31pm
Death of My Buddy
Mar 24, 2007
My buddy, our oldest pup (15 years),Angus, had to be euthanized today. To say we are heartbroken doesn't do justice. Neither of us has ever had to do this before.

Angus was so special, so cool. He took to me immediately, and was my friend and protector. He followed me all the time, from one end of the house to the other. If I went outside, he went outside. When I came back in, he came back in. He usually wanted to be right near me.

He had spunk and could be quite ornery when he wanted to be. He had a sneer that could chill your heart! LOL When he wanted to be left alone he would crawl under the bed. I was the only one he wouldn't snap at in an attempt to get him out from under the bed.

He hated the Bonanza theme. LOL We'd sing that and he would get all ornery with hubby and chew on his fingers. But he wouldn't chew on mine. Hubby and him played the Bonanza theme and the Jaws theme a lot. Angus would sneer, then gnaw on hubby's fingers. They loved it!

He loved his food! And he would eat ANYTHING, except olives! LOL He used to not eat pickles, but somewhere along the way he decided pickles were alright.

He'd been on heart medicine and water pills for a couple years. This last week we could see him getting worse. When I got home from work Friday he was sprawled on the floor, and he barely looked up at me. There was some sort of gelled substance near him, and who knows what end of him it had come from. His tail was smeared with it. His rear legs were bloated and swollen, and his belly was bloated too.

I got a towel and wrapped him up, then took him outside. I filled a bowl with warm, soapy water and washed him off. He didn't budge at all, and he absolutely hated baths.

I got his food ready, took it to him, and he barely ate. He fell asleep with his head in his bowl. We knew this would be his last night with us.

So, first thing this morning we went to the vet. It was over very quickly, and Angus isn't miserable or uncomfortable anymore.

We buried him in the backyard, and will be making a stone for him. I want to embed his nametag in the stone.

I love Angus. I miss him enormously.
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Posted: Mar 24, 2007 8:15pm
I Am An American or How I Became A Peacemonger
Sep 3, 2006
I am an American
I have seen too much of dying
I have seen too much of hate
I have seen too much of lying

I remember watching
As the many fire hoses sprayed
Splaying those of color down
Too keep them from freedom

I remember watching
As the men stood in schoolhouse doors
As children were bused to the strange and new
To keep them from education

I remember watching
As night after night on the television screen
Soldiers lay splattered on distant shores
In countries whose names I found difficult to say

I remember watching
As young people were gunned down
When they stood up to proclaim that
Our country was going wrong

I remember watching
As a young and vibrant president
Was silenced forever
And the country wept for its loss

I remember watching
As a preacher who proclaimed
Peace is the way
Was shattered by a bullet

I remember watching
As a man running for president
Was killed at the moment of victory
As his family was nearby

I remember watching
As rockets flew through the night sky
Searching out those who were now our enemy
Although a few years before they were our friends

I remember watching
As hundreds of people went down in terror
While buildings aflame with debris
Were crumbling before our very eyes

I remember watching
As soldiers once again deployed
To seek out the enemy whose only crime
Was to be born in a foreign land

I remember watching
When a people full of apathy
Stayed silent and in fear
While their nation forgot its creed

Yes, I am an American only due to place of birth
To those who claim vainglorious pride
In their country of origin
I say may God bless us all, everyone
For simply being a human gives us reason to be blessed
©® debbye
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Posted: Sep 3, 2006 10:12am
Life is What Happens..............
Aug 6, 2006
I'm posting this now, and will probably be sending out a message to everyone on my friend list within a couple weeks.

I'm NOT leaving C2, but I am stepping down from owning groups and probably from hosting groups. I cannot provide enough time to do it justice. Between work and my family, there just aren't enough hours in the day to participate actively.

I do my daily clicks, I sign petitions, but am not able to post regularly. That is not my idea of a good host.

I do hope my friends will not forget about me because I'm not around like I once was.  My hopes for the world remain unchanged, and my passion for what I think is right is not in any way diminished.

Love and hugs!!

PEACE!~pass it on~
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Posted: Aug 6, 2006 5:48pm

 
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old woman w.
female, age 58, married, 3 children
Lake Worth, FL, USA
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