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Where the Girls Are

What I loved about yesterday’s stunning Republican debacle was seeing men who think they know it all get told to go sit down. For weeks I’ve been watching House Speaker Paul Ryan’s smug ‘trust me’ videos on Facebook and Twitter. Then it was news of the President’s intense lobbying to get Ryan’s Obamacare replacement bill passed. The photos and videos, Ryan laughing with his Congressional pals, Trump meeting with thirty men to discuss women’s health care, all with ties hanging to their knees like their idol, made me wonder if all 21 female Republicans in the U.S. House of Representatives had been kidnapped and put into witness protection. Never mind…

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A Pen or a Pencil?

Originally posted on Red's Wrap: I keep a catalog of 180’s in my office. I use my red file folders and label each file in pencil, preserving, therefore, the opportunity to do another 180 by erasing the label and creating a new one. I don’t think it’s a crime to reverse myself. I just need to keep track of it. Most of my 180’s are about people although some are about the utility of daily exercise and carbs. Are carbs good? Should I load them? Or should I eschew them, so to speak, not let that poison in my body for a single glutinous moment? I change positions on…

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The Gathering

When I am old and alone, if that’s how it turns out, one of the things I will miss most is the gathering at night. The kitchen light People talking over each other Plates set and cleared I wonder what will mark the close of the day without a gathering. With whom will I gather?…

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A Row of Twenty Trumpets

Originally posted on Red's Wrap: What one thing am I good at? Why stop at one thing? I can think of twenty things I’m good at. I’m good at… Writing things fast. Making decisions with lifelong consequences in minutes. Convincing people to drive down dirt roads. Signing up for events and classes I never attend. Imagining myself as an extremely tall person. Pretending to hear people. Cooking things with Campbell’s soup. Mentoring younger colleagues. Knowing what I think. Being loyal to deserving pieces of clothing. Driving my convertible at 70 mph on the freeway past semi-trucks. Knowing how to be stupid without being ignorant. Keeping my rage at white…

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Confronting My Own Ageism

Originally posted on Red's Wrap: Viewed from behind, the man appeared to be headless. There were his khaki pants, his white shirt neatly tucked in, a cane swinging as he walked, but where his head should have been there was only his collar. As we drove by him and I turned to look again, I saw that he was so badly bent over from the shoulders that he was looking straight at the ground as he walked. And the first thing I thought of was, I bet he was handsome when he was young. Maybe he played ball and drove a fast car. He was probably trim like he…

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Banner Day

I ran from the label for a long time but now I own it. I’m a senior, an older adult. I stop at elderly, though, because it conjures for me the memory of my great grandmother sitting in my grandmother’s upstairs bedroom, prim in a lace nightgown and complaining constantly lest she be forgotten up…

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The Courage to Wear A Hat

Originally posted on Red's Wrap: It takes courage to wear a hat. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. A baseball cap is easy. Every one – male or female – looks good in a baseball cap. So I’ve got no special admiration for people who sport baseball caps. It’s fine. It’s cool. It’s a little wee statement. You’re a Packers fan or a cancer survivor or maybe a survivor of one of those insane cancer charity walks. So a baseball cap is cute and maybe a tad informative, but requires little by way of chutzpah. A real hat – like a fedora or a big sun hat – is…

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Yes, We Are

“He’s a good person,” the man said, pointing back at the West Allis Library where Congressman Jim Sensenbrenner was holding a Town Hall meeting. “He’s a good person and I voted for him.” He paused for a minute. “But you, you’re not good people.”  I couldn’t believe it. This came from a man my age…

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I Wish They Were Lucky

Originally posted on Red's Wrap: When I was a kid, I pretty much went where I wanted. My parents never asked and I never told. As long as I was home before dark, no one cared. I could have been dealing blackjack at a blind pig in downtown Detroit for all they knew. Every…

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