Haircut Today!

My last haircut was April 3rd. The last time I had my hair color enhanced (aka dyed) was three weeks before that. Today is May 31. To say that I’ve begun looking a little unkempt would be an massive understatement.

I wear my hair really short, so my normal routine consists of a haircut every three weeks and color every six weeks. I’ve been sick since the beginning of May, though, and had to cancel my regular appointments. This is a reasonable approximation of my current look:

Add more gray to the fur, and that’s me.

My appointment isn’t until 11:30, but I set my alarm for 6:00 a.m. and was awake well before that. I’m jumping for joy, but only mentally, because at my age, physically jumping for joy could be hazardous to my health. I could do it, but I might not be able to walk for a week. And nothing is going to keep me from this appointment.

In my stead, here are inspiring photos of others expressing their joy. Enjoy their joy!

Peace (and joy) people!

Buhbye to Roseanne

When ABC revived the Roseanne show I didn’t pay much attention. I’d seldom watched the original program and had no desire to watch the reboot. All politics aside, I always found the show to be mean spirited.

When we lived outside of Champaign, Illinois, I saw Roseanne Barr do standup live at the venerable Virginia Theater. Studly Doright was out of town that week and I got bored, so at the last minute I bought a ticket.

She was good that night. Not great. She seemed subdued, talking about how becoming a grandmother had changed her. There was nothing political about her performance, as I recall, and I gave her scant thought after I left the theater.

But these past couple of years Roseanne has become a vocal trump supporter. Her tweets on Twitter were peppered with insults aimed at Liberals, some were of a blatantly racist nature. She even embraced hardcore right wing conspiracy theories and shared them with no regard for the truth.

In spite of this, ABC brought her back into the fold hoping, perhaps, that she could keep her racist ideology under wraps long enough to make big bucks for the network. Yesterday, though, she finally went too far for ABC and parent company, Disney.

From a local ABC affiliate:

Roseanne Barr wrote early Tuesday morning, “Muslim brotherhood & planet of the apes had a baby=vj.” Barr was responding to a comment about Valerie Jarrett, a top former aide to president Obama. She later deleted the tweet.

The show was quickly cancelled following the abrupt resignations of show writers, Wanda Sykes and Whitney Cummings. I’d say, “bravo, ABC,” but they knew she was a racist, right wing troll when they hired her. Public outcry was the driving force behind her termination.

So let us bid adieu to Roseanne, at least for now. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her honored for her actions by the Racist-in-Chief.

Peace, people

Here are somewhat relevant photos of The Virginia Theater in Champaign. I adore this old place.

And an even more relevant photo of a younger Roseanne grabbing her crotch during her heinous performance of the national anthem before a sporting event.

Clarifying the Question: Where are the Children?

In regards to the separation of families by ICE, this post is illuminating.

A lot from Lydia

As I’ve said many times, I’m not a reporter, I’m a person who blogs, a divorced working mom, a Democrat… I’m a lot of things, and I’m not afraid to say I hate everything about 45.

I try to be factual in my posts and, for that reason, I offer this post correction for your consideration. The title of said post— “Where are the children?”

My post was based on information I found in more than one news outlet, a story that has finally drawn the attention of mainstream media. To be fair, the story has a few problems.

It is the story of U.S. immigration border patrol separating children from their parents, subjecting them to abuse, and then losing them, possibly to human traffickers. It’s been made clear that many of the photos being circulated on the internet, of children in what look like cages, are old… from 2014…

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My Traffic Stop

Great piece by Jan Wilberg. You should read it.

Red's Wrap

I was on my way to a 6:00 p.m. meeting and came flying down the hill on to our city’s lake drive like I had done 10,000 times. I was thinking about the day, bright and sunny, and the water, riled a little by the wind. I love Lake Michigan in all its glory and it’s a daily thing – whenever I see it I revel in it. What a beautiful place. And so I came flying down that hill in my old 2005 Thunderbird just enjoying being alive.

And then I saw the lights flashing behind me.

Officer: Do you know how fast you were going, young lady? (I am 70. A decent-looking 70 but still 70.)

Me: Well, probably over 40 (guessing because I had no idea, I was looking at the lake after all and not my speedometer).

Officer: 49. 19 miles over the speed limit.

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Shaggy and Nutty

I was supposed to have gotten my hair cut and colored on May 8, but I was still battling diverticulitis and had to cancel my appointment. I called my stylist and broke into sobs as I left a message telling her I was too sick to make the 45 minute drive to Blountstown.

She called the next day to reschedule my appointment and I believe I detected a note of wariness in her voice. I can’t say I blame her. What kind of loon cries when she cancels a haircut? Her earliest opening was on the 31st, and I’m counting the minutes until I look like me again instead of this shaggy gray crone I see when I look in a mirror.

Part of me is a little worried that she’ll have the men in white coats waiting to carry me away. Hey, as long as she cuts and colors my hair first, I’m fine with that. I’ll be the best coiffed chick in the home.

The Greatest Speeches Never Heard

Martin Luther King

Winston Churchill

John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Abraham Lincoln

Franklin Delano Roosevelt

These great men were known for their dynamic oratory. Their words were used to rouse their countrymen to fight or to urge them to find peace. There’s no doubt they each had a speechwriter, or even a team thereof, to help craft their words, but in the end their ability to inspire change came in equal parts from the written words and in their respective abilities to deliver them with the appropriate gravitas, fervor, and sincerity.

I would humbly submit to you that some of the world’s greatest speeches, though, have been delivered by me. My audience generally was sparse. Occasionally Natasha, the cat of my teenaged years, sat listening attentively to my various soliloquies. More often than not I implored or entertained, sometimes even thrilled, an audience made up of stuffed animals and Barbie dolls. They never exactly applauded my efforts, but I could see the approval gleaming in their eyes.

And my repertoire was immense. One day I’d speak on the importance of the civil rights movement, begging my audience to remember that we are all equal in the sight of God. Another day I’d offer the most heartfelt Oscar acceptance speech ever heard, sometimes bringing myself to tears. The orchestra never played me off stage.

Saving endangered species from extinction and conserving resources were hot topics. I educated my audiences on the importance of family planning, so concerned was I with the dangers of overpopulation. Everything was important. No subject was off limits.

There were very few times in my young life that I actually gave a speech in front of real people, and sadly, my oratory abilities didn’t carry over from my bedroom to the auditorium. In front of real live people I lost my nerve and generally spoke dispassionately and sometimes nonsensically.

As a candidate for our junior high student council I gave a lackluster speech whilst clinging desperately to the podium on the auditorium stage. I believe I barely spoke above a whisper as I promised to address the dress code if elected. Needless to say, I didn’t win. An eighth grade teacher did tell me I looked very professional in my white dress. “Not many people can wear that color,” she said. Heh.

I wanted to tell her, “Lady, I’ve got a lot of admirers.” They just happened to be stuffed or plastic.

As a teacher I guess I did finally get my live audiences. Occasionally those sweet elementary or middle school students seemed mesmerized by my impassioned lesson delivery. Or maybe they just needed to hear, “Yes, you will be tested over this!”

Peace, people.

Waiting on the Rain; Tired of the Pain

Early Saturday morning I took Studly Doright to the local emergency room. Nothing critical, but the nerve pain resulting from his recent surgery had gotten out of control, and nothing we tried could make him comfortable. His surgeon had told us that it would take six to eight weeks for the nerve pain to ease off. I sure hope it’s closer to the six week estimate. He’s miserable, and I’ve never felt so helpless.

We were impressed with the efficiency of the Tallahassee Memorial Hospital’s ER staff. Studly was taken to a room immediately and we were headed home within an hour. They were able to get his pain under control and while it’s still a factor, he can manage it now.

As for me, I’m feeling better every day. The diverticulitis seems to be under control. I’m still eating carefully, though. I’ve completely cut caffeine out of my diet, and now that the headaches have stopped I can tell a real difference. I’m sleeping better and all of those “sinus” headaches I’ve suffered from have become very rare. Something tells me those weren’t sinus headaches after all. I’m still avoiding alcohol, as well. I sure miss my wine, but I think I feel better without it.

Gosh, we sound like a couple of old farts. If the shoe fits, I suppose we should wear it.

Finally, a tropical storm is headed our way this afternoon. Our area is expected to get high winds and quite a bit of much needed rain. I’m really not ready for hurricane season, but hurricane season is ready for me.

Step Sister

This piece by Jan Wilberg is so true and deep. Read more at

Red's Wrap

It was hot on the bus. Especially if we were parked waiting for our friends to emerge from under the bridges or the woods where they were living. The wait was never too long since they knew we were coming – Street Angels shows up in our mini-bus every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. We hand out hot meals, bag lunches and a host of other things – batteries, underwear, blankets. soap, razors, flashlights, t-shirts, jeans, and socks, many socks. You see, when you are homeless and your socks are worn out and dirty, you throw them away. Washing clothes takes a whole level of storage and wherewithal – it doesn’t work when you carry what you own on your back.

A woman shows up at the bus door. She looks exactly the same as when I saw her two weeks before. She is self-sufficient looking, the type of woman who…

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The Scoop on Solo

Yesterday I wrote of my intentions to see Solo: A Star Wars Story and of my trepidations. Han Solo, as played roguishly by Harrison Ford in the original trilogy and in the more recent, The Force Awakens, has been the inspiration for many of my romantic sci-fi daydreams over these past forty years.

Han Solo has been my imaginary hall pass. In other words, if Han, as played by Harrison Ford, ever shows up at my door in the Millennium Falcon Studly Doright gives his permission for me to spend some quality private time with the scoundrel. No questions asked. Mighty open minded of my Studly, wouldn’t you agree?

The film, Solo, is set in a time before the original trilogy, taking us back to before Han made his fabled Kessel run in twelve or so parsecs. Obviously Harrison Ford couldn’t play the part of scoundrel Han, having grown too old to play the younger version. I was genuinely concerned about the casting choice of Alden Ehrenreich. In the trailers he appeared too short, too boxy, too callow, too “not Harrison Ford.”

But, I am happy to report that not only is Mr. Ehrenreich a perfect Hal Solo (too young for me to lust over, but that’s okay), but Donald Glover is a fittingly rakish Lando Calrission, and Joonas Suotamo is a marvelous Chewbacca. The entire cast, including Woody Harrelson as the thief/smuggler, Becket, and Amelia Clark (also known as Game of Thrones’s Khaleesi) as young Han’s love interest, Kira, is spot on.

The pacing of the film is reminiscent of Star Wars, A New Hope. It’s fast and fun and chock full of wise cracks and charm and surprises. I was transported back to that world I fell in love with as a young adult.

Now, back to Han Solo. There’s one brief moment in which our young scoundrel is shown in profile, almost a silhouette, and he’s the spitting image of Han as portrayed by Harrison Ford. It almost took my breath away. Han lives on.

Go see the film. Let me know what you think. I’m curious to know if anyone else saw that scene as I did.

Peace, people.

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