received news today that my uncle has been put in a nursing home due to a broken ankle.  at 81, he’d need round the clock care and my aunt, 80, is just not able to do it.  they live out in the middle of nowhere in teh texas hill country.  half the time, their road is impassible without an suv, so getting someone to come to their house is out of the question.  my aunt has had a hard time accepting that this needs to be done.  she feels like she’s responsible for him and should be the one to take care of him.  bizarrely, she’s afraid the family will be mad at her.  as IF. 

if i ever needed proof of “true love”, i’d need to look no further than my aunts/uncles.  my uncle bill and aunt lola have been inseparable for as far back as i can remember.  they are so much a couple, til they are almost one identity.  they are the perfect compliment to one another: her extrovert to his introvert.  i’ve never been entirely sure that it was a ~healthy~ thing, being as close to one another as they are, yet there is no denying that they have been happy and fit one another to a tee.

my uncle was in a terrible wreck some 25+ years ago.  he suffered massive brain damage, among other things, and has never really fully recovered.  he gets his words confused.  he has trouble watching tv, at times.  he can’t keep numbers straight.  he speaks with a stutter, because of the word confusion.  at times, too much input becomes frustrating for him and he’s unable to speak at all.  since his wreck, he’s had his carotid artery block which caused him to go blind in one eye, had surgery to install a stint, had ~both~ carotid arteries become blocked, the artery in his leg block, had shingles, broken his hip, had hip replacement surgery, and now broken his ankle.  (i’m sure i’m forgetting illnesses in there somewhere).  the arteries being blocked have limited his ability to get around.  he’s short on oxygen (which now appears to be affecting brain functions as well—he’s angry a lot which is completely out of character—i can’t remember my uncle EVER being angry) and he can’t walk far.

my aunt has been by his side through everything.  cared for him, loved him.  he has been the center of her life.  when she, herself, has had difficulties, she’s made light of it as much as possible in order to keep focused on my uncle and his needs.  she finishes his sentences for him, anticipates what he’ll need before he needs it, and tries to make sure he is happy above all else.  their lives have become extremely isolated, which is out of character for my aunt, yet she has never complained.  she does what she needs to do for bill.

there is NO WAY that anyone in my family could ever think poorly of her.  this is a woman who, when we meet them for lunch in town, will bring flowered pens that she’s made and pass them out to everyone in the restaurant.  she’ll bake a cake and bring it with her… and then offer it to everyone in the restaurant when she serves it.  she is kindness personified.  if a tad eccentric

while it saddens me that my uncle needs to be in a nursing home, i think for the time being it’s the best place for him.  she can still spend time with him there.  and someone ~else~ can look after him in ways that she’s just no longer able to do through no fault of her own.  i know my uncle is tired of and increasingly frustrated over his health problems.  perhaps with the care he’ll receive, some of that frustration can be alleviated.  at least, i hope so.

ahh.  finally someone articulates what it is that i’m feeling.  and they do so much better than i’m able to.  i am frustrated with politics, but unlike someone recently suggested to me—“yes, it’s frustrating when you just can’t get the idiots to like your candidate”—there is much, much more to it.  it isn’t a matter of these two candidates: obama and clinton.  the larger picture is still askew and it saddens me. 

The sorrow of which I speak flows not from the fact that liberation has not yet been achieved but from a fear that the possibility of liberation may be lost forever, that our world may have passed the point of no return, psychologically and ecologically. Such fears are not grounds for abandoning politics, however. If you believe there is something to what I’ve said, it suggests only that we should think more carefully about where we put our political energies. I believe that the last place we should be sinking our energy is into presidential politics. When the political leaders vying for our votes make it clear they are committed to systems and institutions that keep us locked in the death trajectory, why should we offer them anything that is precious to us?

The most common response I get to that challenge is the claim that these candidates actually have a more radical agenda but realize that they must keep it under wraps in order to get elected. Just wait, I’m told, until after an election victory. That is likely to be a long wait, for there is no historical precedent for such a development, and nothing in the biography of either candidate that suggests a break with history. This observation typically is dismissed as cynicism, but I am not cynical. I am simply trying to deal with reality.

If only a center/right candidate who p lays to the greed and delusional self-indulgence of the United States can win, that is more evidence that this empire cannot be transformed into a decent society in the time available and that it is time to say of conventional politics, simply, “game over.” If that is the case—and I believe it’s a reasonable account of our society—more than ever the work is not to turn over our time, energy, and resources to any political candidate but to build alternatives on the ground. That is a political response to a political problem. It isn’t a question of hope v. no hope. It’s a question of reality v. delusion. To believe that an unsustainable system can be sustained indefinitely—and to support political candidates who believe that—is a sign not of hope but of desperation and defeat. To be realistic and hopeful, one must be radical.

read the entire article: The sorrows of race and gender in the 2008 presidential election by Robert Jensen.

because if not?  i surely meant to.

the foundation in my building is being leveled by placing piers inside the units.  so the tile floors that i put delayed putting in 3 years ago when we first had foundation repair done, are now going to have to be torn up so they can place NINE… yes, NINE piers in my unit.  lucky, lucky me.  the company doing the foundation work did come out and at least let me know where the work would be done, so i only need to clear my craft room, kitchen, and computer area… and anything breakable needs to be taken upstairs, as the jackhammering through the floors could cause things to break.  lucky, lucky me.  i can also expect to need to replace 9 tiles for every pier.  plus any tiles that happen to pop up once they actually raise the foundation level.  oddly, i have absolutely no signs of foundation problems.  no cracks in teh walls or ceilings, no sticking doors.  yet, they say there is a 4 inch difference between the front of my unit and the back.  what i can’t help but think… leave the foundation, install me a drain, i’ll only ever need to hose down the inside of the house to clean it :O

they’ve already started on the unit next to me.  the lovely sound of jackhammering allllll day long.  yay :( i’ve until may 8th to get all my stuff moved, if i can make it without my head asploding :|

and btw, obama, you’ve lost my vote.  you made a mistake when you first tried to distance yourself from reverend wright.  rather than trying to paint him as some “crazy uncle”, you should have gone into black liberation theology and what it means.  rather than leaving ME to answer why wright is different from falwell/robertson/right wing lunatic preachers, you should have done so.  and what is the difference?  wright wants all men to be equal.  the right wing lunatic preachers want to suppress the rights of others.  you should have explained the difference in rallying people against oppression and rallying them to oppress.  instead, you let wright hang, because we know white people are scared of uppity black men who speak with passion and fire, so you tried to pander to those “typical white people”.  and now?  hillary has used wright against you by setting up this national press club engagement… and you have once again denied reverend wright.  vehemently.  and i have no respect for that.  you are once again pandering to those “typical white people” rather than leading them, as a president should.  and just who is it you are actually pandering to, obama?

THAT “typical white person” says things like:

[Obama] He’s done. Hillary will represent the Dems and America has gotten a taste of what they always knew in the back of their minds: Obama and most any Black leader will be nothing more than the new Al & Jessie Dog & Pony show. 

and now we know why reverend wright speaks the way he does, trying to draw attention to the oppression and suppression of minorities in this country.  shame on you, obama.  shame.

and now to try to grab a bit more sleep before they start up with teh damn jackhammers again :|

there is no equality.  there never was.

it’s an illusion to keep the plebs happy.  our pedestrian tastes.  our pop culture reverence. 

we are the dregs.  they are the elites.

and now?  we fight for them. 

we have the audacity to declare that ~elitism~ is something to be admired.  something to strive for.  ~be the beautiful people~.  nevermind the outcasts, the riffraff.  be above them. 

read on...

akasha was bitten by the meme bug and i thought i’d see if i could come up with 10 things, too.  that’s actually hard for me to do, but we’ll see…

1.  i still have “old bunny”.  the stuffed animal i’ve had since i was a baby.  he’s covered in bandaids, because his cloth began ripping past the point that it could be repaired, so we kept adding bandaids over the years.  mom’d had him stored away and recently returned him to me, so that i could get rid of him as i saw fit, but.  i’m strangely unable to.  “get ~rid~ of old bunny?!?!” :O

2.  i once passed out at the eye doctor’s when i was in 6th grade.  yes.  the EYE doctor’s.  shup.  ;o i have a phobia of doctor’s and when they dilated my eyes?  all i remember is waking up in the floor with an oxygen mask on my face.  bless the doctor for telling me it was a common thing (suuuuure, it is).  and bless my 6th grade teacher, who on the first morning of my wearing glasses to school, told me, “my, don’t we look sophisticated”.  every bit of apprehension i’d had about wearing glasses melted away at that moment and i’ve never had a problem wearing ‘em since.

3.  my most fond memory of childhood: mom fixing a roast for sunday dinner, while i sat curled up in my dad’s lap, listening to neil diamond on the stereo.  everything was calm, peaceful, and ~right with the world~.  my other ~most~ fond memory is of the day my brother was born.  i was paged to the office at school, where my dad had called to let me know my baby brother had been born.  the principal, overhearing the conversation, gave me a long talk on how wonderful it was to have siblings.  then sent me off to notify all my teachers

4.  i have no real accent… unless i’m really tired or really upset.  then stand back, i’ll texas twang you to death.

5.  my favorite book, growing up, which i still love… the five little peppers and how they grew.

6.  robert urich, avery brooks, kevin spacey, and mike patton are among the ~sexiest men EVER~.

7.  i love the hill country in texas.  it’s where i feel most in touch with myself.  <3 new braunfels / canyon lake.

8.  guilty pleasure, music: the offspring.  books: the spenser for hire series and the vampire chronicles.  (guilty pleasures being those groups / books which you know are NOT the best, yet you can’t help but love them anyways)

9.  i LOVE boots / hats.  and own way too many of each.

10.  hrm, one final thing… i love the sound of dominoes being shuffled on a table.  when i was very little and my grandparents would visit, they’d play 42 with my parents after i’d gone to bed.  i’d lie awake for hours listening to them play and laugh and argue over the game.  and the sound of dominoes always brings that back, that sense of home and family.