2017/07/04

Happy Independence Day!

Da Goddess @ 10:26

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness…

Celebrate our hard won rights and remember those who fought for those rights.

Be safe and have yourselves a beautiful day!

2017/06/16

This Is How You Do It: Body Positive Message

Da Goddess @ 02:57

A mom on Instagram had this discussion with her kids after her daughter called her fat:

My daughter called me fat today. She was upset I made them get out of the pool and she told her brother that mama is fat. I told her to meet me upstairs so we could chat. Me: “what did you say about me?” Her: “I said you were fat, mama, im sorry” Me: “let’s talk about it. The truth is, I am not fat. No one IS fat. It’s not something you can BE. But I do HAVE fat. We ALL have fat. It protects our muscles and our bones and keeps our bodies going by providing us energy. Do you have fat?” Her: “yes! I have some here on my tummy” Me: “that’s right! So do I and so does your brother!” Her brother: “I don’t have any fat, I’m the skinniest, I just have muscles” Me: “actually everyone, every single person in the world has fat. But each of us has different amounts.” Her brother: “oh right! I have some to protect my big muscles! But you have more than me” Me: “Yes, that’s true. Some people have a lot, and others don’t have very much. But that doesn’t mean that one person is better than the other, do you both understand? Both: “yes, mama” Me: “so can you repeat what I said” Them: “yes! I shouldn’t say someone is fat because you can’t be just fat, but everyone HAS fat and it’s okay to have different fat” Me: “exactly right!” Them: “can we go back to the pool now?” Me: no.

Each moment these topics come up I have to choose how I’m going to handle them. Fat is not a bad word in our house. If I shame my children for saying it then I am proving that it is an insulting word and I continue the stigma that being fat is unworthy, gross, comical and undesirable. Since we don’t call people fat as an insult in my household, I have to assume she internalized this idea from somewhere or someone else. Our children are fed ideas from every angle, you have to understand that that WILL happen: at a friends house whose parents have different values, watching a tv show or movie, overhearing someone at school — ideas about body image are already filtering through their minds. It is our job to continue to be the loudest, most accepting, positive and CONSISTENT voice they hear. So that it can rise above the rest. Give me a (high five) if this resonated w u! Just do you! Xoxo Allie

When we stop allowing media or other people define beauty for ourselves, when we consistently teach and remind our children that true beauty comes from within, we will have stronger, more well-developed kids who’ll spread that message, who’ll grow up avoiding fad diets and unhealthy practices, who’ll grow up with stronger, healthier senses of self, and who will be advocates for body positivity.

God created each of us to be unique and that’s what we are. Beauty comes in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Beauty comes from within. It’s something we all have innately. But we forget. We allow media to dictate the definition of beauty and that must stop. We don’t need to have people who have long forgotten that beauty is about the light and love we have within us rather than some airbrushed image they paste on the cover of their magazines. We are more than what someone who’s never met us tells us we are or should be!

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. Just as we are. Remember that. And help others believe that.

2017/05/28

Memorial Day 2017

Da Goddess @ 17:52

I miss those weekends with Little Dude. The weekends we spent at Ft. Rosecrans, planting flags before graves of those who served. I still get misty as I think of how seriously L.D. took his duties, how we’d stick around after everyone else left, walking amongst the tombstones. It was a sacred practice for us and precious, too.

Gardens of Stone - Fort Rosecrans

Gardens of Stone sit in stillness
The lives of those buried here are mostly forgotten
They whisper to us, but rarely do we listen
And yet they speak volumes

In Gardens of Stone there reside
Those who served, at home and on the front
The wind scatters leaves and secrets
Speaking volumes of those who can no longer speak for themselves

In Gardens of Stone names are carefully etched
For family and friends to visit for a while
After many years, the visits taper off
Speaking volumes of our commitment to those who have died

In Gardens of Stone some of us wander
Searching for clues
Honoring the dead
Praying for their souls

In Gardens of Stone on this weekend
Everywhere you turn
You will see flags and flowers
Speaking volumes that we still care

In Gardens of Stone we pray
For those who continue the tradition
The sacred honor of protecting our way of life
We pray their service speaks volumes that war may
Someday be unnecessary

Until that time, we walk in Gardens of Stone
We gather to remember for those who cannot
For those who will not
Because the next to lie here will someday be just
Another name etched carefully in granite

In Gardens of Stone we are never alone
In Gardens of Stone we must continue
To pray and remember and learn
So that someday there may be smaller Gardens of Stone

__________________________________

For every name upon a stone that might ring familiar, there thousands more which we may not recognize nor find in any book. Their names, if we look long enough, become familiar to us, become part of our extended family. For they are the ones who secured our freedoms and allowed us the rights we enjoy today. The protesters on the street can do so because of these men and women. Those who cry out for freedom from religion (we’re guaranteed freedom of religion — to worship [or not] as we so choose) can do so because of these men and women. Those who demand this and demand that are able to do so because of these men and women. We can stand up and publicly deride our leaders because of these men and women. We are free to speak in English or any other language we chose because of those who lie in the Gardens of Stone.

Most will never have monuments. Most will never have books written about them. We can, however, take the time to remember, even if in general terms.

___________________________________

Memorial Day is not just about hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill, the gatherings of friends and family, the drinks passed around the campfire. We’re free to do so, yes, but it is due to the sacrifices made by people whose names we’ll likely never know.

Please take a moment this weekend to give thanks to those who have served, to those who continue to serve, and honor them with a moment of silence. That’s the least we can do for them.

Gardens of Stone - Fort Rosecrans

2017/05/05

Another Day, Another Thin Skinned Whine

Da Goddess @ 20:20

Trump: “Mommy, Colbert said mean things about me again!”

Mom (a.k.a lawyers, natch): “and did you provoke him again?”

Trump: “Um, no??”

Mom: “you did, didn’t you?”

Trump: “I’m gonna sue!”

Mom: “Of course, you are.”

Trump: “Will you come to court with me?”

Mom: “You’re on your own, kid. Your maid made your bed, you shit it, there’s only so many times someone will clean up after you.”

2017/04/16

Christos Anesti!

Da Goddess @ 08:52

Christos Anesti! He is Risen!

Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!

Before the dawn, Mary and the women came and found the stone rolled away from the tomb. They heard the angelic voice: “Why do you seek among the dead as a man the One who is everlasting light? Behold the clothes in the grave! Go and proclaim to the world: The Lord is risen! He has slain death, as He is the Son of God, saving the race of men.”

Thou didst decend into the tomb, O Immortal, Thou didst destory the power of death! In victory didst Thou arise, O Christ God, proclaiming “Rejoice” to the myrrhbearing women, granting peace to Thy apostles, and bestowing resurrection to the fallen.

The angel cried to the Lady Full of Grace: Rejoice, O Pure Virgin! Again I say: Rejoice! Your Son is risen from His three days in the tomb! With Himself He has raised all the dead! Rejoice, all you people! Shine! Shine! O New Jerusalem! The Glory of the Lord has shone on you! Exalt now and be glad, O Zion! Be radiant, O Pure Theotokos, in the Resurrection of your Son!

Happy Easter, my friends!

2017/03/02

Happy World Book Day!

Da Goddess @ 15:06

If you know me, you know I absolutely adore books. I love the written word. I love getting lost in the written word. I love the feeling I get from reading, even if that feeling is of frustration or anger at the writer (if I’m involved enough in a story to get upset, then the author’s done something right — they made me CARE!).

My mom gave me the second greatest gift of all when she taught me to read. The first gift, obvs, was love. But even if she hadn’t loved me, I’d still have reading. And reading is power.

A good story will draw you in. It will make you FEEL. It will make you forget the real world for a while. It will open your mind. A good story will open your heart. It will take you to places that only exist in the imagination. It will help develop your imagination. And, dare I say, a good story will inspire you to reach for the stars, and beyond.

There are no goals without imagination, without dreams or dreaming. How do you learn to dream, to believe something is possible if not for the stories other people tell?

I often ask kids about their favorite books. I ask them what they like about the story and the characters. Many kids tell me how they’re inspired by the ideas set forth in the books they read. They tell me how the story could continue, what adventures the characters might find in a new chapter (or seven!). When a kid can tell you what they’d like to have happen next? Well, my friends, that’s magic! That’s imagination. That’s the sign of a child whose brain has been engaged. And that’s a big win in my (pardon/no pardon the pun) book.

Whether our children are reading physical books or on an electronic device, WE ARE WINNING! They’re learning. If their minds are engaged in reading, they’re developing tools they’ll need to become whoever they dream they can be. Because, and here’s the secret, when they read, they can become the characters in the stories, if only for a while. And if they can do that for a while, they begin to believe it’s possible more and more often…in real life. That astronaut in the book? That could be me! That brave knight/princess in the story? That could be me! The character who just discovered a new tribe or animal? Me! Even when the author includes a physical description of a character, while you’re reading, that description falls away and you begin to inhabit the character. If you were to close your eyes in the middle of the tale, your face is the one you’d see if the character looked in the mirror. That’s the power of reading, of imagination. That’s how you start teaching kids to dream.

When I was little, I loved stories that inhabited colorful lands full of colorful characters. Dr. Seuss knew what he was doing. Sneeches, with or without stars upon thars, were fun playmates on days I was kept inside. Or maybe one of the twenty-twenty Daves would come by to save…the day from absolute boredom while stuck in my cave. Chances are, the Cat in the Hat would also stop by, if only to help me find trouble to squeeze out of by the lash of an eye.

As I got a bit older, Trixie Belden became my muse. With her and the Bobwhites, I solved neighborhood mysteries that no one else could have solved. I traveled with her, laughed with her, cried with her. When I felt lonely, Trixie was there for me.

Always, always have a book. When you’re watching TV, have a book to read during commercials. Going to the doctor? Take a book. Got a lot of books and spend a lot of time at the doctor’s like I do? Ask if you can bring in a few to start a lending library. Old magazines will only last so long.

As soon as possible, get a child their own library card. Make the library or bookstore a regular part of your week. Investing in a child’s mind is investing in the possibilities of their future. Let them become invested, too, as they tell you what they’ve read and what it means to them.

I know I’ve told the story many times of how Mojo would walk into walls because her nose was stuck in a book. And how LD was potty trained with the help of book on dolphins, porpoises, and whales. He was so proud the day he was allowed to take that book everywhere he wanted because he was finally out of diapers. And let’s not forget how my kids would do their chores or finish dinner because their reward was a trip to the library or bookstore!

As my kids grew up, people would give them gift cards for Borders or Barnes & Noble so they could choose their own gifts. Instead of ONE present, they ended up with many. And they were the kind of gifts that kept giving because they turned out to be creative, thoughtful, and funny people. Had they only had TV or video games, I doubt I’d be saying the same (or I’d be lying about them).

I don’t know where I’d be if not for the books I read as a kid. I don’t know where I’d be if not for the books I read as an adult. I do know I’d never have dared to dream of becoming a nurse if I hadn’t read books about candy stripers and nurses. I’d have never dreamed of being a photographer, either. I wouldn’t be passionate about wildlife if not for reading “Born Free” or even “Misty of Chincoteague”. That’s how powerful the written word can be.

I wish you a very happy World Book Day today — and every day! May the book be with you.

* Inspired by Definitely Dreaming

2017/02/14

Happy Valentine’s Day, My Lovelies!

Da Goddess @ 10:46

Happy Valentine's Day or whatever

Here’s hoping you have a Sam and Molly* moment or, perhaps, a Nickie and Terry° moment (but only the part where they’re reunited, but without the need of a wheelchair) today.

Or better still, go listen to this. (Still don’t know how to do embeds from my phone.)

What I mean is: Happy Valentine’s Day!

* Ghost (1990) — the pottery wheel scene, not the whole Patrick Swayze dying and returning as a ghost part.

° An Affair to Remember (1957) — Cary Grant & Deborah Kerr version because #CaryGrant, obviously.

2016/12/25

Merry Christmas!

Da Goddess @ 00:29

May the light shine upon you and those you hold dear.

And now I bring you my favorite Christmas song of all. It’s my favorite version and it wouldn’t be Christmas for me if I didn’t post it.

2016/12/24

Christmas Eve is Here

Da Goddess @ 15:17

Justin Hines, y’all. Please, pray for a Christmas miracle for him. Give him his breath and song again.

2016/11/25

Death Comes to Castro

Da Goddess @ 23:03

Millions are rejoicing over the news of Fidel Castro’s death.

Cubans who vowed to never return to their home country until the dictator’s blood was still may now realize their dreams.

For all my Cuban friends, I say to you: ¡el monstruo está muerto!

2016/11/24

Happy Thanksgiving!

Da Goddess @ 03:33

May your heart be full of joy, love, and gratitude today and always.

Thank you for your friendship and love!

2016/09/11

15 Years After: Life Post-9/11

Da Goddess @ 05:39

After 15 years, my heart still beats a little too fast, my chest feels too tight, and I remember that sense of disbelief as if it were yesterday.

I also remember my neighbors gathering, not so much to talk, but more just needing to be together with others.

My children had questions. I had questions, too. But parents had to be strong and talk the kids through the scary news. We could only panic or cry in private. The kids needed us adults to be their safe haven. So we were.

I remember Mr. Rogers saying during times like these, when you’re frightened or feeling lost to look for the helpers. I keep thinking about that now. How many of us remember that? How many of us have become helpers?

I’ve been a helper and I have to say, helping others during terrible moments makes you stronger. It truly does.

I try not to be one who needs a helper now. I do what I can to be there for those who have no one else, who don’t know where to turn, who maybe just need a hand to hold onto.

I try. And I try very hard to support the helpers whose jobs require the support of the community. Whatever we can’t do, they are out there making sure it gets done. They work harder and longer than everyone else. And they need us to be there for them when all is said and done.

Today I think of the lives lost 15 years ago. I think, too, of those who have since died because of the work they did to put out fires, find survivors in the wreckage, or to reclaim the remains of the dead. I think of those who have flown over, sailed around, or walked in foreign lands in the name of securing our freedom, chasing down the evil minds behind the attacks on us. I think of all the innocents who’ve been caught in the crossfire.

Mostly, I think. I remember. I hurt. And I give thanks for all that remains.

Some far off day, long in the future, there will be no one left alive who remembers the attacks on American soil. It’ll be one more story in a history book. Until that happens, I will remember and I will speak of that day. I have to. I cannot forget, nor should I.

Never. Forget. Never forget. NEVER FORGET. NEVER. FORGET.

2016/09/04

On This Day 10 Years Ago: September 4, 2006 — Steve Irwin Died

Da Goddess @ 00:00

Over the years, I’ve written about the impact Steve Irwin had on the lives of my family. Below is a repost of something I wrote in 2009, which still rings true. I’d like to add a few thoughts.

Steve may be gone, but we’ve witnessed new generations carrying on with his mission. Irwin daughter Bindi is officially an adult and continues to talk about the need for conservation, advocates for the animals, and has become a true global ambassador for wildlife. His son, Robert, does the same. Though his younger years perhaps limit his visibility, he aims high and reaches or exceeds that mark with pure, unbridled enthusiasm. Both Irwin kids are passionate, educated, and very well-spoken, which is a testament to not only their mother, Terri, but to the foundation of keen interest and the solid work their father did in the name of wildlife conservation.

As I mention below, my own interest in wildlife began early. My parents were the leading contributors to this, but I was also intrigued by the work of Marlin Perkins, who was pretty much all my generation had in the way of a wildlife educator/promoter. There were others who followed, of course, but that was the start of my budding curiosity. I’m so very grateful for the path Perkins paved because it brought us Steve.

I’m grateful my children grew up in the Age of Irwin. I’m grateful for the first class shows they had, to see the world through khaki colored glasses, to see wildlife conservation as something exciting and important.

For those reasons alone (though there are many more), I continue to mourn the loss of the great wildlife warrior named Steve Irwin.

I’ll never forget the year LD turned two and on Christmas morning he went crazy when he saw one of his presents was a three or four foot plastic crocodile. He immediately jumped it, covered its eyes, called for Terri (his sister given a co-starring role in his funny little world of Croc Hunterdom) to get his shirt off and wrap it around the croc’s head. Yes, LD was two and had absorbed enough Irwinisms to run his own fake rescue and relocation in our living room.

Dressed in his regular uniform of khakis (the boy wanted what he wanted), we headed over to my sister’s house for more Christmas activities. The croc came along. Anyone speaking to LD that day had to address him as Steve. To this day, there are probably a few people who were dating relatives or friends of my sister and brother-in-law who really believe this is my son’s name. We probably should have considered it, but for the simple fact that the ex’s brother carries the same name and they weren’t on speaking terms at that point. Still, my little 2 year old had made his stand about the name and his goals for the day: he would be Steve and he would be on croc patrol. No cats, people, or food would go missing if he could help it! (Okay, maybe a little food, but that was only if it was near enough to a chair he could climb up to get at it.)

And he did it all with an Australian accent. My American born baby boy sported a fair dinkum Aussie accent. Because that’s how his hero spoke.

This was how it went for two and half years, give or take. Halloween costumes were, naturally, khaki and sported fabric paint representations of Australia Zoo’s logo, with the name Steve below that. We’d attached frogs, lizards, and snakes to his shirt (all plastic, of course…our collection was immense…still is) and his shorts or pants, and his hat, although the hat was from the Norwich Gators (close as we could get at the time). Our pumpkins were carved with crocs and “Steve” and occasionally a panda or regular jack o’lantern pattern. But they still represented The Man.

When the news broke during the early hours on Sept. 4, 2006, I was awake and editing for Blogcritics.org at the time. I heard it. And everything stopped. Then I started flipping channels and it was everywhere. It didn’t seem real. Finally, I emailed my friend Pat who lived at the zoo and received the sad confirmation that it was, indeed, tragically true — Steve Irwin was gone.

What unfolded after that was beyond anything most anyone anywhere would have ever expected. Despite the popularity of the Crocodile Hunter series and other spin off shows, no one could have predicted just how widespread this man’s infectious enthusiasm reached. Straight out admiration, parodies, and even a handful of naysayers…the man, his mission, had stretched around the globe and back a million times. He made the scariest animals important, even lovable (except leeches and I’m afraid I’ll never laugh as he did about them), he made us care about the animals he encountered, taught us why they were special, why we should want them around. His plans were grand and he was making great strides in realizing many of his dreams, which ruffled a few feathers and caused some backlash, but Steve did it all for one reason: to protect the land and the animals, and give our children more than just picture books filled with photos and drawings of animals and trees we once encountered on land. Careful management could and can preserve habitats and healthy populations of animals if we can find a way to work together — from land management, husbandry, careful community planning, caring individuals, and sensible care plans from government agencies to help keep nature a viable and valuable part of our heritage.

It’s a message I was taught by Marlin Perkins, local Native Americans, and even by my parents (except snakes, but that’s a cause I took up on my own). To me, what was the point of keeping the forest if there were no animals? What was the point of loving the animals if they had no home? I learned it early and have always carried this with me. My conservationist roots run deep and likely always will. I guess my kids came by it honestly.

And then one day, Steve and Terri Irwin showed up and echoed what I’d grown up hearing. They even went far beyond what I’d learned and gave me new ideas, a new means of understanding, new hope! It spread quickly. I wasn’t the only one looking for a way to learn. It became part of our watercooler conversations.

Then we got that punch in the ol’ solar plexus we never wanted to hear. Yes, Steve Irwin was a celebrity and we often roll our eyes when a celebrity dies. But this seemed to run a bit deeper. Here was a young man actively, passionately chasing the dream of educating the world about our natural resources. He wasn’t famous for kicking a soccer ball or wearing the latest styles or releasing a record of music he had little to do with. He was out getting dirty and conducting research that continues to this day to enlighten us on the habits and lives of creatures we previously understood little about. He gave us tools to learn and set us upon a course of caring.

It’s been three (er, now 10) years and it still hurts. Thankfully, there are people everywhere who have picked up the mantle and carry on.

It may mean nothing to you, but it continues to mean a great deal to this family. Each of us, in our own manner, have found a way to carry on educating friends and strangers about the animals we encounter, the land upon which we live, the land that surrounds us, and how important it is for all of us to work together to keep it working.

Steve Irwin may be gone, but plenty of people in this world are carrying out his work, sharing the knowledge, spreading the word.

We miss you, Stevo.

Gone But Not Forgotten

2016/08/20

Olympics

Da Goddess @ 14:31

I watched a lot of the Olympics this year. Despite my declaration 18 months ago, when NBC started advertising them, I couldn’t resist the urge to see what all the incredible athletes would do.

Gymnastics: A.Ma.Zing. All the way around, the women and men were fascinating to watch. I even managed to keep my eyes open for the balance beam routines, which I’ve been loathe to do in the past. As someone who has NEVER been able to do a cartwheel, I have the utmost respect for the courage it takes to careen across a mat at a high rate of speed and fling oneself in the air. The strength and flexibility are unbelievable. I am in awe. I predict Simone Biles, Laurie Hernandez, and Madison Kocian will take all the gold medals in 2020 Tokyo.

Swimming: What can I say about the strength and speed of the swimmers that hasn’t already been said? Katie Ledecky, Simone Manuel, Maya Dirado, Missy Franklin, Dana Vollmer…all the women gave their best in the pool. Ledecky is only 19 and just couldn’t get enough of those medals. Manuel, 20, is the first black American woman to medal in the Olympics. Sadly, NBC didn’t think to prepare a package on her journey to the Olympics, which is mind boggling because there was a big opportunity to talk about *why* we’ve seen so few black Americans in the pool. There’s *history* there that deserves to be shared. Instead, we got plenty of coverage of Phelps and Lochte*.

Diving: I am humbled by those who can stand atop a board and then fling themselves WHILE PERFORMING ACROBATICS off, toward the water, and still barely make a splash. How is it even possible?

Equestrian: I had to scout around to find coverage for the equestrian events. USA and MSNBC carried the bulk of riding and jumping events. Thank God I thought to dig around until I found the schedule! Fletch was equally happy that I found the horses. He sat in front of the TV, mesmerized by them. Then he ran through the house, scampering and leaping as if he were competing. I wish I’d thought to record him doing it!

There is such beauty in watching horse and rider strive to achieve the most difficult jumps, to navigate a course full of challenges, to place their trust in one another… it’s truly amazing.

My younger sister could have been an Olympic horsewoman. She may try to say otherwise now, but she was GOOD and she could have done it. So, not just because I have always loved horses, but because I always think of my sister… that’s why I watched, why I’ll always watch.

My only complaint with the equestrian competition is that it doesn’t include reining events. I took enough riding lessons on reining horses to know and understand the level of skill required to get a horse and rider to the point where they can achieve such smooth movement and “effortless” control. Granted, I was pretty much a hack in spite of all the time and effort I put into riding, but STILL! (Really, even though I wasn’t as good as I had hoped, I was plenty happy to be on a horse under the vast Colorado sky.)

Cycling: I tried to get into cycling more this year, but I gave up after the first event. Once upon a time, cycling was special to me. Apparently, I grew out of it. I still admire the riders, but I no longer feel the need to watch.

Finally, I have to say how disappointing I found NBC’s coverage of the Olympics. Forget how underwhelming the opening ceremony was, it *might* have been better if we had been given the opportunity to see it without commercial interruptions every few minutes. Perhaps. We’ll never know at this point.

During events, the network continued to suffer from “gotta get an ad in” syndrome. Aside from swimming heats that would be over in a matter of minutes, NBC had a very difficult time sticking with coverage for more than 8 minutes. And if they did, they spent that time focusing on little of importance. Where were the lovely, heart-warming stories about the athletes overcoming adversity? Oh, sure, there were a few stories, but too much time was spent on interviewing breathless competitors or cutting back to a sports announcer, or worse… Ryan Seacrest. Am I the only one who has had enough of the guy? I do NOT get his appeal at all.

The best thing NBC did during the Olympics was bringing Leslie Jones down to Rio. Her enthusiasm was infectious and endearing. Might i suggest we replace Seacrest with her next time? Actually, let’s do that AND let another network broadcast the Olympics in the future. After this round, I’m pretty sure a community college broadcasting class could do a better job than NBC did.

Before I end this with my rant below,let me just say how much I appreciate the dedication of the athletes, their families, and the coaches. I marvel at the sacrifices these people make to chase a dream. Even for those who don’t “get sports”, they must see the beauty in chasing a dream. So few of us have the fortitude to focus as much as these athletes do. I often wonder if we made opportunities to try a variety of activities available to everyone — from the wealthiest to the poorest — if we could create more dreamers and achievers. I believe it’s possible. And I don’t think we should wait for the next Olympic games to start inspiring the next generation to go for the gold.

__________________

*Now, allow me to vent about the idiot for a moment. Lochte, despite his medals and fame, couldn’t manage to behave like an adult following the completion of his events. His actions in Rio, outside the Olympic compound, were asinine and reflected so poorly on not just America, but the athletes in general. I sincerely hope he’s punished somehow, someway. I don’t know what, exactly, but there must be consequences for his (and his fellow delinquents) actions. I’d send him back to Rio to face the music and I’d ban him from the U.S. swim team for at least the next games in 2020. Isn’t there some sort of code of conduct for these athletes? What are the repercussions of breaking the rules? This angers me in a way I find difficult to explain. I mean, I’ve had enough of athletes getting away with bad behavior, or getting a mere slap on the hand. Whether you are representing your family, school, your neighborhood, your city, state, or nation, you need to be held accountable for your actions. It’s not enough to be embarrassed or ashamed that people find out what an idiot you’ve been. There must be more done to deter others from behaving in a similar(or worse) manner.

I truly do not comprehend how we humans have allowed others to get away with all manner of crime simply because they are known for their athletic abilities (or whatever their claim to fame may be). Why? As a parent, you spend so much of your time trying to raise your children to be responsible, honest, law-abiding citizens. Those character traits should not be optional because they excel at sports, acting, academics, or anything else. In fact, the bar should be even higher for those who work so hard to achieve “greatness” in whatever field they choose that also puts them in the public eye.

At some point, were going to need to say, “enough is enough!” and demand our national “representatives” adhere to a specific level of conduct. If they don’t, they should be stripped of their awards and banned from future competition. I can’t see any other way to get the message across.

2016/07/28

Pondering

Da Goddess @ 03:06

Sometimes I wonder if those who cite the Bible/religion as their basis for hating on or denying the rights of homosexuals and/or transgender individuals ever considered the idea that God made these people and put them here on earth with us to help us open our minds and hearts.

Substitute homosexual/transgender with black/Hispanic/Asian or any other ethnicity and the depth of that type of prejudice becomes even more ridiculous, doesn’t it?

I truly believe we are all here for a reason and we should be more open to others before we become so isolated that we’ve walled ourselves into individual compounds and the entirety of the human race dies off.

Just something I was thinking about.

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