Skip to main content

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blogging...

It's 2009, the year when the first African American president of the United States of America took office. Why, may I dare to ask, do at least six states in these UNITED states celebrate something called "Confederate Memorial Day"?

It is a state-sanctioned holiday. People get the day off. Why, may I also ask, do we not have a "Union Memorial Day"? Want to know why? Because we already have a memorial day on which we honor those who have passed, no matter what flag they flew or what military might they supported. It's on the last Monday in May.

The states I found observing this Dimwit Dixie Day are Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Mississippi (April 26), and North and South Carolinas (May 10) -- and there may be others I missed...I betcha Texas is one.

In case anyone forgot, the whole reason those southern evangelical nutjobs wanted to secede from the Union is because they wanted to keep their slaves. Slaves, people. There's no room in our society for a holiday that in any way, shape, or form celebrates the notion that human beings can own other human beings.

Certainly not just because people want a three-day weekend.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

So, I Changed My Mind

More than four years ago, the blog and I parted ways. I needed a change. A whole lot happened in my world since then. I switched jobs a couple times. My kid went from an elementary school tween to a teenage high schooler. We built a new house and moved. Both my parents and my sister have passed. The world around me changed as well. Mass shootings, racism, the #metoo movement, a misogynistic bigoted narcissist in the White House ... go ahead, add to the list. Toss your woes into this dumpster fire we call 2019.  I appreciate my previous sentiment, that I was no longer wandering. But let's be honest, we're all trying to find our way through this mess. I decided to reboot the blog to give myself a creative outlet, a way to sort through the confusion and frustration and attempt to make sense of it all. I have a voice, and I'm not keen to silence it anymore. Guess what? I'm back, bitches.

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...