When it comes to Trayvon Martin, I don’t trust MSNBC because they’re liberal any more than I trust Al Sharpton because he’s black. I’m tired of being guided to an opinion. Zimmerman is in custody, which is exactly where he should be. Truth be told, it’s exactly where he should’ve been since the day he shot, and killed, Trayvon.
It’s time for the facts to be presented. I’m inclined to roll my eyes at “Stand Your Ground,” which means I have to check my pre-dispositions. Zimmerman has already been convicted by the media, which means everyone needs to step-back, besides the parents, who are allowed to do, and say, whatever the hell they want. As far as everyone else is concerned, there’s too much hoopla.
Speaking of media lynch mobs, who cares if Hilary Rosen said Ann Romney has never worked a day in her life, so she can’t relate to working moms who are trying to raise their kids in a constant battle with always being two paychecks away from totally screwed. Saying Ann Romney can’t relate to this scenario is true. Why does Hilary Rosen have to apologize? Especially when it happens to be true.
Besides, the issue, the real issue, is the Lilly Ledbetter Act, which President Obama signed on day one of his first term. Turns out, Mitt Romney had to clarify whether or not he was in favor of the Lilly Ledbetter Act. Clarify? Seriously?
I guess when you’re Mitt Romney, and you have 5-sons, you’re not inclined to worry about girls, unless you’re rooting for your 5-sons to get laid. Unlike President Obama, who has 2-daughters and is inclined to believe his 2-daughters should make equal pay for equal work, when they go out into the working world. And, when they’re old enough, they should also get laid. Why not? It’s fun.
Anyway, sex hoopla aside, the Lilly Ledbetter Act isn’t a head-scratcher. It’s a no-brainer, a given, like birth control being covered by health care providers and Mormonism being a creepy cult.
Listen, I understand raising a family is difficult. Whether you have sons or daughters, whether you’re living in an extended adolescence and in need of a creepy cult to justify your self-importance or living an adult life and brave enough to accept there’s nothing after death, but death. Raising a family is difficult. But not as difficult as the defenders of Ann Romney would have us believe.
Are you kidding? Even more difficult than raising a family is enduring a family. Especially a Jewish Family, so I’m sympathetic to Ann Romney. But I’m sympathetic to all moms, not just a spoiled mom who opted-out of adulthood by marrying a billionaire brat.
It never gets easier. Family never gets easier. In a word: Oy!
Recently, when I was out of town, my brother had a blow out with my cousin. I came home, and on day one, there I was, once again, exactly where I don’t want to be, but always seem to find myself, in the middle of a squabble. It’s dissatisfying. It’s exhausting. Worst of all, it’s not my problem but I take it on like it’s the center of my universe.
But this time, it’s different. This time, I’m reaching out to the Center For Conflict Resolution. This time, I’m hiring a mediator. Let someone else get paid for the crummy job of being in the middle of a squabble.
Let me ask you this, how do you learn to set boundaries? How do you learn to apologize in a meaningful way? So when you’re sorry, it comes across like you’re sorry, instead of looking like you’re only interested in getting off the hook as quickly as possible. Lately, these question have been weighing on my mind, a lot.
When I was on the west coast, I was lucky enough to spend time hiking with my dad. He’s the tortoise. Slow, steady and chatty on the shady parts of the mountain. As we were hiking down a bend, and the mountain created a shadow of cover from the desert sun, dad began reflecting.
“No one teaches us how to end a relationship,” he said. “No one teaches us how to put things to bed with grace.” It’s true. And I’ve been thinking a lot about what dad had to say. Hiking with an Italian who attended P.S. 122 in the Bronx is a great tool for teaching.
But I’m still lost. I’m still wandering in the desert. Here’s my quandary. I wonder, as a society, if we lack the skills necessary to fight without things derailing into personal attacks, or even worse, God Forbid, escalating into “Stand Your Ground.”
Disagreement can be productive. Don’t get me wrong. Certainly not disagreement on MSNBC, CNN or FOX.That’s not disagreement. That’s misinformation masquerading as insight.
Genuine disagreement reveals what needs to be addressed. Thing is, when you’re up against the ropes, when you feel defensive, when powerlessness creeps into your soul, unless you’ve been trained, like a lawyer or monk or emasculated husband, there’s a tendency to attack, on a personal level, and go for the win because in America, winning is the most important thing.
You’re damn straight, winning is the most important thing, even though nothing is gained and there’s no red carpet where you get to wear a pretty dress, accept a gold statuette and make a self-righteous speech thanking everyone for realizing you’re the absolute best at humiliating someone you’re supposed to love because winning is more important than taking a fucking breath before you open your fucking mouth.
At least, this is the trend I’ve noticed in my family.
And I don’t know how to solve it. I’m admitting I don’t know how to solve it. I’m admitting I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’m wasting my time wrestling with inevitability. Everything in me wants to stop the trend of drawing a line in the sand, and ending a 42-year relationship. But it seems inevitable, especially if you have Katz/Morelli DNA.
Anyway, back to distractions. Let the billion-dollar campaign begin. The Mormon versus the Muslim. No, wait, that’s too fear mongery. The white guy with the good hair versus the black guy with the celebrity smile. No, wait, that’s too surfacy. The moderate masquerading as a neo-con versus the moderate masquerading as a right of center conservative. No, wait, that’s too on the nose. The guy with the rich father versus the guy with the absent father. No, wait, that’s too Freudian. The white guy looking to get the black guy out of the white house unless he’s the black guy who’s serving the white guy coffee. No, wait, that’s too racist. Actually, now that I think about it, the last thing I just said. Yeah, that.