I'm discouraged. I don't get it.I don't understand why more Americans aren't as upset and raging in the streets about the assaults that have and are being perpetrated upon our freedom and rights as citizens and human beings. Maybe because my heritage includes the ones on whom genocide was practiced and land was taken in the formation of this country as well as the ones who were enslaved and brought here.
Maybe it's because I have experienced being treated as less-than-human, fairly regularly first for being a child, then for not being white, and being female. Didn't like it worth a crap. Who is any one to tell me what my “place in society” is?! It especially rankles when the standards to which I am/was held were not uniformly enforced, shall we say
Perhaps that's why I'm so touchy. Or maybe because I bothered to read the the letters and study the history of how we got such an awesome Bill of Rights and Constitution. I understand and absolutely appreciate how throughly amazing that a country would dare to establish itself with such lofty but bloody obvious precepts. And the struggles and necessity make modifications as were needed to continue the goal of fulfilling those promises.
Yet today, as we are ostensibly being challenged by fiat to justify existence and then aoplogise for being, I cannot keep quiet. Demanding ever more proof of citiznship, submitting to be poked, prodded, groped, fondled, inspected. Agreeing to have the contents of one's person sampled to see if your chemistry is appropriate. Being assessed for employment based on our alleged (or not)intergrity, ability to maintain timely credit payment in the face of fewer means to do so, without ability or recourse to demand the same of potential employers. Worse yet, there are those who are desirous that we accept the abuse, without complaint, and support the destruction of our selves for their benefit.
That may occur in other countries, but this one was formed on the principle that we are all entitled to the persuit of happiness. Furthermore, we affirmed that the role of government is to provide for that opportunity. And realistically, any government that does not, has little chance for sustained existence. no reason and even less motivation and inclination for the residents in such an area, to abide by such.
Therefore it's easy to see howand why anger and disstisfaction occurs, but ennui? Rolling over and playing dead, accepting the abuse is unnatural. It's self-destructive.Allowing somone other than yourself to inflict ham and injury, in the hope that it will stop, is both irrational and idiotic. I shudder to think how much force (Pain? Poverty? Sickness?)) it will take before their entropy/ennui is overcome. Looking at it in physical terms,when will the equal and opposite finally occur here?
I am truly flabberghasted by my fellow Americans who watch the events in Northern Africa and fail to apprehend the parallels within our own states and borders. There is no “app” for freedom, folks. There is nothing that can be downloaded, defrosted, sprayed on or rented that will allow you to be free without actively being responsible for your ownright to freedom, for your persuit of happiness. It's not an entitlement. But it can be achieved by standing up for your self, by speaking out when the attempt is made to strip you of your rights, by voting. Don't allow that most precious of all our rights be taken from you.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Using Chemical Enhancements in Competitive Sports
Feeling old, ignorant, naive and shocked. I just read about a Olympic swimmer that got banned for using tamoxifen to block estrogen production so that he might swim faster. When I was a kid, I dreamed of swimming in the Olympics. Swam the butterfly, freestyle and had a half-way decent back stroke. But it never occurred to me to try to improve my time by using stuff.
Fact is, when a hot-shot swimming coach told me that the only way I get trained for the Olympics was if I “bulked up”. I was appalled! I mean, I was already pretty darn good, third best in the state when I was thirteen. I was the best 'flier on my swim team and at my school. I could beat the guys on the team and the boys at my high school. Naturally, he didn't become my trainer. It was discouraging, because I wanted to go to the trials, and every one said that one needed a good coach to advance. Besides, my parents weren't really in a position to pay for that sort of thing.
So discouragement started to set in. But I kept going to practice with my local YMCA where I had been a member of the swim team for years. Then one of the gym teachers at my high school offered to coach me. Mr. P (I don't think I should include his name out of respect for his privacy) was very thoughtful and encouraging. Furthermore, when I told him what I had been hearing about the “necessity” of taking steroids, he became very angry and said that the only reason he had offered to coach me was because I was and “honest” swimmer, which I was. Besides, the school was not going to renew his contract and give him tenure was because he was gay, and many parents didn't want him teaching there.
So for Mr. P, coaching the black kid to the Olympics would have been a good way to “stick it to the administration”he said, getting me into the Olympics. And he would coach me for free! Just because.When he was re-assured that I hadn't gotten involved with any of that sort of thing he calmed down, and I started working with him. That is until I got a terrible cold, with a horrible sore throat and couldn't breathe. My mother thought I was faking to get out of school, but I was really sick. It got so bad that I became increasingly short-winded, and eventuallycollapsed at school and got sent to the hospital. The doctor ordered me not to swim until he gave premission. Further, he gave my parents a note telling them that I needed lots of bed rest, and that when I returned to school I was to use the elevator, not the stairs and absolutely no PE until I got my strength back.
That didn't happen. I got sent to school anyway. Then my voice quit. Completely. Could not even manage a croak or a whisper. Did not even have the lung capacity to manage a hiss.Got oredered to stay home until further notice and not to even attempt to vocalize at all. The upshot of all that was after I got well, I had no wind any more. It wore me out at school trying to use the stairs because my mother wouldn't sign the form to get permission to use the elevator. I
Eventually, I did start training with my coach, but it all over. I just couldn't breathe like I used to, and learned that the medicine that my doctor gave me to breathe, wasn't allowed for competive swimmers. Not steroids, but still a banned substance. I kept trying to get my time back up to what it had been before. But I couldn't swim and breathe. I cried and cried; that didn't help either. Coach tried to keep my spirits up. We tried to get my timing back. Yet it never occurred to me to take the medication, which did allow me to breathe as well as before, but break the rules.
Two years later, the committee changed their minds and allowed the meds I was required to take. But by then it was too late. That was end of my swimming career. So it still just wierds me out now when I read about the doping. See what I mean?
Fact is, when a hot-shot swimming coach told me that the only way I get trained for the Olympics was if I “bulked up”. I was appalled! I mean, I was already pretty darn good, third best in the state when I was thirteen. I was the best 'flier on my swim team and at my school. I could beat the guys on the team and the boys at my high school. Naturally, he didn't become my trainer. It was discouraging, because I wanted to go to the trials, and every one said that one needed a good coach to advance. Besides, my parents weren't really in a position to pay for that sort of thing.
So discouragement started to set in. But I kept going to practice with my local YMCA where I had been a member of the swim team for years. Then one of the gym teachers at my high school offered to coach me. Mr. P (I don't think I should include his name out of respect for his privacy) was very thoughtful and encouraging. Furthermore, when I told him what I had been hearing about the “necessity” of taking steroids, he became very angry and said that the only reason he had offered to coach me was because I was and “honest” swimmer, which I was. Besides, the school was not going to renew his contract and give him tenure was because he was gay, and many parents didn't want him teaching there.
So for Mr. P, coaching the black kid to the Olympics would have been a good way to “stick it to the administration”he said, getting me into the Olympics. And he would coach me for free! Just because.When he was re-assured that I hadn't gotten involved with any of that sort of thing he calmed down, and I started working with him. That is until I got a terrible cold, with a horrible sore throat and couldn't breathe. My mother thought I was faking to get out of school, but I was really sick. It got so bad that I became increasingly short-winded, and eventuallycollapsed at school and got sent to the hospital. The doctor ordered me not to swim until he gave premission. Further, he gave my parents a note telling them that I needed lots of bed rest, and that when I returned to school I was to use the elevator, not the stairs and absolutely no PE until I got my strength back.
That didn't happen. I got sent to school anyway. Then my voice quit. Completely. Could not even manage a croak or a whisper. Did not even have the lung capacity to manage a hiss.Got oredered to stay home until further notice and not to even attempt to vocalize at all. The upshot of all that was after I got well, I had no wind any more. It wore me out at school trying to use the stairs because my mother wouldn't sign the form to get permission to use the elevator. I
Eventually, I did start training with my coach, but it all over. I just couldn't breathe like I used to, and learned that the medicine that my doctor gave me to breathe, wasn't allowed for competive swimmers. Not steroids, but still a banned substance. I kept trying to get my time back up to what it had been before. But I couldn't swim and breathe. I cried and cried; that didn't help either. Coach tried to keep my spirits up. We tried to get my timing back. Yet it never occurred to me to take the medication, which did allow me to breathe as well as before, but break the rules.
Two years later, the committee changed their minds and allowed the meds I was required to take. But by then it was too late. That was end of my swimming career. So it still just wierds me out now when I read about the doping. See what I mean?
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
I am donating 5% of my sales to aid in the relief of the great people of Japan, who donated over 44 million dollars to help New Orleans, my home town, recover.
Shop today at A.R.T. Precious Collectible Jewelry
http://www.beadbear.com/
Treat yourself and help Japan all at the same time. Remember shipping is free.
Wear your beads in good fortune!
Women Who Have Inspired Me
I need to pay homage to the women that have inspired me:
Queen Hatshepsut, who as a very young woman assumed command of the army to save her country, and made Egypt strong and great.
Eleanor of Aquitaine, who defied a King and the Pope, had the nerve to love whom she chose, in the manner she saw fit, and not be cowed by men.
Ann Boleyn who understood the hazard of love when combined with power, but did it anyway. I visited your cell in the Tower, and felt your presense;
Elizabeth Tudor,her brilliant daughter, who survived a terrible childhood, but used that pain to become a strong yet compassionate ruler who was England's greatest Monarch
Marie Antoinette, who had to know from the moment she entered France, that she was a sacrifice, and her life would not end well.
Mae West, for teaching me what risqué meant, and double entendres;
Marilyn Monroe, who taught me about the vulnerable side of sexuality, what it meant to be “her”
Elizabeth Taylor, where I learned that a woman can have a career and still have time, love and passion for her children. As a child I adored that she always took her children with her where ever she was shooting a film, no matter the cost or inconvenience to others. Also, that it was okay to love jewelry, and that it couldn't be too much.
Joan Rivers, who taught me to be myself, and damn the consequences;
Golda Maier who taught me not to be afraid to ask for what I needed. I loved that she always brought her string shopping bag, whenever she visited the President.
Yoko Ono who taught me to hold my head up with dignity in the face of scorn and ridicule. I met her briefly at a show of John Lennon's artwork in New Orleans. You smiled at my tears at your husband's art, even while there were people there hissing unkind words about you within earshot.
ZaZa Gabor, who taught me that glamor and style come from within, and not to take beauty contests seriously (I had recently been in one and had gotten eliminated early). I met her at a grocery store in Long Beach, decades ago. She was wearing her Miss Universe crown. She told me she had “seven of dese damn things, and that they were just the thing to put your hair up with when doing housework”. I fell for her when she was ctitisized for wearing one of her beauty crowns made of crystal, when she was presented to European royalty, but wearing diamonds around her neck. She was the only one in the room that didn't look dour, dowdy and frumpy.”It's all costume jewelry dahlink; how expensive is your costume?”
Queen Noor, what incredible grace and compassion;
Mother Theresa, who questioned her own faith;
Susan McDougal, who went to jail rather than lie;
Hillary Clinton, for not baking cookies, for hanging tough when her health care initiative was ripped to shreds
Speaker Nancy Pelosi, the best and greatest Speaker of the House ever. How she can manage to keep a civil tongue in her head and not rip the opposition a new one, is totally beyond me
Jan Shakowsky, another great example of why women should rule!
Maj. Gen. Margaret Woodward, Operation Odyssey Dawn Joint Force Air Component Commander
And my mother in law, for loving me as her own.
Queen Hatshepsut, who as a very young woman assumed command of the army to save her country, and made Egypt strong and great.
Eleanor of Aquitaine, who defied a King and the Pope, had the nerve to love whom she chose, in the manner she saw fit, and not be cowed by men.
Ann Boleyn who understood the hazard of love when combined with power, but did it anyway. I visited your cell in the Tower, and felt your presense;
Elizabeth Tudor,her brilliant daughter, who survived a terrible childhood, but used that pain to become a strong yet compassionate ruler who was England's greatest Monarch
Marie Antoinette, who had to know from the moment she entered France, that she was a sacrifice, and her life would not end well.
Mae West, for teaching me what risqué meant, and double entendres;
Marilyn Monroe, who taught me about the vulnerable side of sexuality, what it meant to be “her”
Elizabeth Taylor, where I learned that a woman can have a career and still have time, love and passion for her children. As a child I adored that she always took her children with her where ever she was shooting a film, no matter the cost or inconvenience to others. Also, that it was okay to love jewelry, and that it couldn't be too much.
Joan Rivers, who taught me to be myself, and damn the consequences;
Golda Maier who taught me not to be afraid to ask for what I needed. I loved that she always brought her string shopping bag, whenever she visited the President.
Yoko Ono who taught me to hold my head up with dignity in the face of scorn and ridicule. I met her briefly at a show of John Lennon's artwork in New Orleans. You smiled at my tears at your husband's art, even while there were people there hissing unkind words about you within earshot.
ZaZa Gabor, who taught me that glamor and style come from within, and not to take beauty contests seriously (I had recently been in one and had gotten eliminated early). I met her at a grocery store in Long Beach, decades ago. She was wearing her Miss Universe crown. She told me she had “seven of dese damn things, and that they were just the thing to put your hair up with when doing housework”. I fell for her when she was ctitisized for wearing one of her beauty crowns made of crystal, when she was presented to European royalty, but wearing diamonds around her neck. She was the only one in the room that didn't look dour, dowdy and frumpy.”It's all costume jewelry dahlink; how expensive is your costume?”
Queen Noor, what incredible grace and compassion;
Mother Theresa, who questioned her own faith;
Susan McDougal, who went to jail rather than lie;
Hillary Clinton, for not baking cookies, for hanging tough when her health care initiative was ripped to shreds
Speaker Nancy Pelosi, the best and greatest Speaker of the House ever. How she can manage to keep a civil tongue in her head and not rip the opposition a new one, is totally beyond me
Jan Shakowsky, another great example of why women should rule!
Maj. Gen. Margaret Woodward, Operation Odyssey Dawn Joint Force Air Component Commander
And my mother in law, for loving me as her own.
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