Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Saturday, January 21, 2017
The women marching with their moms got me verklempt, just because it's taken women so many decades to get to this point, and yet here we all still are, you guys. I don't want to embarrass him (it might not be possible) but my pal Goddamn Glenn got me a little teary when, following behind, I saw him put his arm around his diminutive mother in law. *sniffle*
Signs said everything from "Black Lives Matter" to "If You Cut Off My Reproductive Choice, Can I Cut Off Yours?" The gay guys, always THE BEST, came out with "Born This Way" and "You Can't Defund Love." One guy nailed it, his sign read, "TOO MUCH WRONG FOR ONE SIGN."
I saw some young ladies start a chant so deftly, I was amazed. They did a clap and like a "Hey, Ho!" then chanted the call and response, and instantly it picked up and fired around to hundreds of people. They must have been cheerleaders. The old guard, women my mom's age who have already fought for this shit, led groups, making sure their people stayed together. On the trains, there were so many people that looked lost. When you take the trains all the time you forget that it's not always clear to newbies, especially changing at Park Street can be confounding if you don't know where you're going. Everyone who knows the way helped those who didn't know...there are stairs over there, you want the B train, etc. The cops were great, they kept everyone feeling safe.You guys. It was a really great day. People care about other people. People care.∎
|Women's March, Boston Common|
Because fuck this guy.
The pin on my purple beret is gift from my Jenny.
At our 20th college reunion (2012) she surprised our group of five by giving one to each of us.
My girls are always with me, but especially today.
Friday, January 20, 2017
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
Coming from a working class family, going to college was something of an ordeal. No one in my immediate family had ever gone to college. Mom got her high school equivalency when I was in 8th grade (I helped her with her homework), and my father went to work in the family waste removal business, National Guard and then painting/contracting. When I brought up college the first time, despite my good grades and a penchant for journalism, dad laughed in my face and scoffed, "YOU can't go to college!" It sounds cruel. It felt cruel. But my parents, living paycheck-to-paycheck for my entire life, had zero chance of ever saving a penny for my higher education. The idea was ludicrous. What did it matter how good a student I was or not? "YOU can't go to college!" Ha ha, ha ha ha.
I applied by myself, I filled out miles of Pell Grant and loan paperwork by myself, I researched and applied and got a number of small scholarships and grants. In high school I worked hard after school and on weekends (babysitting, working at a farm). Against all odds, I ended up attending a small, all-women's college in New York. I carried right on working 40+ hours (work-study, retail downtown) between classes, nights and weekends.
Monday, January 16, 2017
Granted, mine is a particularly musically-charged gang of misfits. Most everyone either plays or writes about music, so this lot posesses a depth of knowledge that enables dear friends to absolutely demolish each other over hot button issues such as whether or not Billy Squire got robbed. That's another thing, the average age of my people puts them squarely into Generation X -- that means we are old enough to have found our musical heroes before video killed the radio star, ride the MTV wave back when it actually featured music, and we're a snarky bunch. Pretty much the champions of eye-rolling, we may have invented it. Oh, and the brief instruction for this questionnaire did not escape the wrath of Generation X: it commanded, a little bossy-pants-ish if I'm honest, that you don't give it too much thought. Oh, the humanity!