WRIGHT IS WRONG

Wow... this man is outta control. Is he PURPOSELY trying to sabotage the candidate of his church?? Because, I gotta tell you... none of what he's blabbering about can possibly help. Were I Obama, I would DEFINITELY tell the guy... uh, you wanna button it up until AFTER I'm elected? PLEASE? Man... with friends like this, who needs enemies??

Now don't get me wrong... I'm not weighing in on whether or not Wright has the right to speak. Of course he does. Nor am I blanketly saying that Wright doesn't have some validity in his view of how Blacks have been treated in our country. And, I'm not saying that the Reverend isn't espousing some MAJOR wacko ideas. Regardless... most of us have no clue what it's been like to live a life filled with hate and discrimination.

What I AM saying however, is given the controversy he brings on... couldn't he like give his church member a break?? Has he no loyalty whatsoever to Obama, in hopes that we might have our very first Black nominee for President? Oh yeah... I forgot... Wright is kinda on a campaign himself. A campaign to SELL HIS LATEST BOOK, that is. No WONDER he doesn't care about the ruckus he's capable of creating. He's got an agenda all his own. And, he's plenty pissed at Barack for shall we say "distancing himself".

Which is too bad, if you ask me. I'd almost think that Wright would at least wait a bit before he drives Obama and the country crazy with his crapola. He wants to believe and promote his outlandish ideas? Okay... do it. Just don't do it RIGHT SMACK ON THE EVE OF A MAJOR ELECTION. Personally, I'd have to say Obama's motto of the day should be: timing is everything. And, this, my friend, is not the time.

Thank goodness Obama has seen fit to call Wright out on a lot of his thinking. In fact, just this afternoon, Barak basically told Jeremiah... adios, mi amigo... nice knowing you. Don't EVER call me again. It must make Obama shudder to no end, to know that he's unfortunately, being held responsible for what spills from his pastor's brain. It's nuts. On the other hand, I do believe that Wright, as a man of God, has indeed offered comfort and insight for many congregants, in living a holy life. But therein lies the rub. Why can't this man HELP to promote the ONE man who has the clout and intelligence AND ability to finally help bridge the huge divide between black and white? Instead, Wright has basically thrown THAT possibility to the wind, I see.

Get the hook. And FAST. Talk about no friend in need is no friend, indeed. Nice going, Rev. My best advice to Obama? Don't feel badly that your pastor turned out to be a vicious, retaliating A-hold. Nor that you had to give him the boot. Trust me... men like him are WAY outta your league. Including... the League of Women Voters.

STYLIN' ON UP

The DAY I turned 16, my brother took me to get my very first driver's license. It was like the happiest day of my life. I couldn't believe that I'd FINALLY be a free spirit on the road. YIPPEE. And, I couldn't believe just how much I impressed my brother.

Bob couldn't get over how well I did, ESPECIALLY since, to pass the test, I had to parallel park. Uh... in a '59 Cadillac, no less. No. Wait a minute. It may have been a '63. Doesn't matter, actually, because BOTH cars had tail fins on them that reached all the way from Florida to Timbuktu. No lie... this car was HUGE. Thus, any 16 year old who could parallel park this car PERFECTLY, as I did, truly had reason to celebrate. Come to think of it, however, I guess I have to give SOME credit to my brother... after all, he WAS my at home driving instructor.

Bob took me to the empty parking lot at the Junior High School right near us, and each day, he'd sit next to me as I whirled around and around, backed in, backed out, turned this way and then that way. Never once do I remember him yelling at me, nor sitting there with white knuckles... much like I did with MY son. Anyway, at 7:30 a.m. we pulled into the testing center and by 8:30 a.m., boom. I was on the road.

For as long as I can remember, I drove Cadillacs. Either my parents', when I was a kid; or my own, as an adult. Until I turned 50, that is. At that point, I no longer needed a car that could seat a family of 5, nor 5 growing teenagers all headed to high school. Enter: Nissan Maxima. I was THRILLED the day I bought that car. I was slipping into parking spots like I was driving my kid's Matchbox toy car deals.

Well... get this... another 10 years has passed and bingo. I'm back into a Cadillac once again. That's my new car, up above in the pict. Wanna ride? Considering it's so roomy, why not bring along 5 of your friends? Also, it has more buttons than I'll ever possibly know what to do with. It took two nights of lessons from my son, to teach me what each button operates and trust me... I STILL have plenty of confusion. Anytime someone gets in the car with me, I automatically have them bring out the Owner's Manual for research into my latest question. My son also hooked me up with the OnStar directions and XM Radio functions. I made him PROMISE me that the dealer wouldn't call me back and make me reclaim the Maxima I used as a trade-in. Talk about going from plain to fancy schmancy. I almost feel as if I'm suddenly in the automobile production of Pygmalion.

I also feel absolutely thrilled that I have a new car. After 10 years, I certainly deserve one. So... should you see one happy lady driving down the street, pretty much stylin' in something like that up above, WAVE. Or... stick out your thumb. If you're tall, dark and handsome, I just may give you a lift.

GOING GREEN

Boy, I can't even iMAGine the last time I added an entry to this blog. It seems like months! But wow, have I been a busy little beaver, with all sorts of things going on around here. Then again, I'm basically losing my mind on many days, given all glitches I have had to contend with. Therefore, who's had time? Case in point: mastering my new cell phone, becoming a pet owner for a week with my Dad's dog, breaking half a tooth right smack in the middle of my melted cheese sandwich, encountering big hard drive problems, figuring out what to do about my oil leaking car and most importantly, should I or should not have any plastic surgery. Any one of those topics could be a contender for a major diatribe, but the one I think I'll focus on is: Anthony.

I hate him. He's the guy who planted the 40 trees in my backyard. Of course, he did it in the thick of winter which therefore gave me big problems in going out to water them in 18 degree weather with wind gusts up to 35 mph. Don't ask. Actually, I even ASKED him if this was a good time of year to plant and naturally, he replied... Hey, no problem! Sure... for HIM there was no problem. He cashed his hefty check and bingo. He was happy as a lark. I, on the other hand, had to stare as tree after tree succumbed to the effects of winter's wonderland. Okay... so finally, when I saw it was becoming a lost cause, I bit the bullet and called Anthony to say: HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. The greening of my yard is fast going brown.

So, we discussed the trees, etc. etc. and basically I was at his mercy. Meaning... Okay, he'd replace the 14 troubled trees at only half the original cost. HUH?? I have to pay AGAIN?? F.Y. Anthony. Which now that I think about it, is SOOOO far from anything I'd ever consider doing! Anyway, as I said... I was at his mercy. Actually, I even developed a scheme several weeks ago, when my former husband was here. I told Mr. X to please go outside and tell Anthony you just got back from some major federal governmental investigation, hence this is the first time you seen his work and basically, you're not thrilled with the tree troubles. Obviously, I was hoping this would put a new step into Anthony's walk, hoping he'd reconsider my cost solution. Uh... scheme failed.

Okay... so fast forward a month and boom. The trees were replaced. Which is the good news. The bad news is that I am now spending every other day, WATERING ALL THESE DAMN TREES and let me tell you... it's exhausting!! I hate this job as much as I hate Anthony. Have any idea how LONG it takes to accomplish this friggin' mission? Have any idea how LONG my hose is, to reach all the trees? It's crazy! You can be sure that the entire time I'm doing it, I'm cursing Anthony up the kazoo.

Which is why, this summer I PRAY to no end that God will take over and do the watering for me. As in: RAIN BUCKETS EVERY DAMN DAY! Trust me... you have no clue how thrilled I will be to enjoy some divine intervention.