Susan's Scribblings the Blog

Tag: politics

• Fly That Flag

  Posted at 3:16 pm by kayewer, on July 5, 2025

  The subject of patriotism has been a bit unpredictable lately in this country. One only needs to check out the news articles about retail boycotts, cancel culture, or even the latest new concept originating from the nation’s capital to see that life as an American is confusing at the best of times.

  I had to give serious thought to what I was doing when considering putting the flag up outside my home. It’s just the standard stars and stripes rendition, though I do have an altered red white and blue version containing supportive messaging which I have not displayed since election day.

  The neighborhood I grew up in is not the type to experience negative expressions of opinion–thank goodness–but we already have a block culture which is subtle yet irascible when violated. One example is trash collection, for which the ritual is begun the evening before with the traditional receptacle parade to the curb. The first person to begin the task is met with subconscious annoyance, because others on the block feel compelled to immediately stop whatever they are doing to set their trash out as well. Anybody who holds their waste without putting it to the curb within a designated time frame is considered, well, trashy. Whether the evening plans to be cold, hot or drenching from rainy acts of God, that trash must be on display overnight or else.

  Naturally, the reverse occurs once the collections are completed, which is unpredictable since we get a trash truck, a recycling truck and possibly a yard waste collection. Whichever comes first, the cans are either placed respectfully back on the curb or unceremoniously slid within close proximity to the property, possibly landing on their sides in the driveways. These, of course, need to be cleared from the front as soon as humanly possible, because those who leave their cans out are also trashy. It’s an unwritten law, and it’s understood.

  It’s also an unwritten law that one should adhere to the current collective feelings of the rest of the block, which is what comes to flag displaying. Those who are away for the holiday are exempt, but the rest of us must judiciously decide what to display while respecting the rest of the residents. We don’t even have an HOA; it’s an unwritten law and understood.

  I decided to put my flag out, because I feel that my country is the sum of the good and bad in it, not just a matter of political climate or financial conditions. The block seemed to mirror my sentiments in the past, so I didn’t have reason to doubt it was a good decision.

  However, I had one issue blocking my successful displaying of the flag. A while ago I had the siding replaced on the house, and with it came new fascia and decorative finishing touches. The installers apparently did not have a lot of experience with flag pole mounts, because they put mine back upside down. This was the time, I figured, to right that wrong. So with trusty screwdriver in hand, I went out and struggled with four rusty Phillips head screws to remove them and the bracket (which itself shows its age with chipping paint, but that’s for me to handle some other time).

  The screws were dreadfully discolored, so I ventured to my late father’s tool haven–untouched for ages since he passed away–and miraculously found four replacement screws with standard screw heads on the first try. It was as if Dad were guiding my hands from beyond. In minutes, with some elbow grease, a different screwdriver and determination, I remounted the bracket in the correct position, and on the Fourth I proudly displayed my flag from the moment I got up until sundown.

  That’s actually a written law, so it’s definitely understood.

  My next task will be to replace the old one with a more sturdy version less likely to succumb to the elements. That will mean unscrewing the bracket again (possibly) to take with me to the hardware store. I have confidence, though, that I can handle this task. And take out trash on schedule.

  Meanwhile, in nearby Philadelphia, the trash pickup is postponed due to a strike, so dumpsters are overflowing with bags of refuse everywhere you turn. On Philly’s most tourism-related holiday. In summer. That is something to cause everybody to react with disdain.

  Perhaps they should keep the trash at home for now. Everybody would understand.

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  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged humor, politics, trash-collection, writing

• Opinion Page

  Posted at 5:55 pm by kayewer, on March 1, 2025

  Wouldn’t it be a strange world if the only opinion that mattered was your own? It may seem perfect to you, because you would no longer become upset by a different point of view.

  Imagine, though, how difficult it would be to find one person who was exactly like you in every idea, concept, and span of knowledge. It’s impossible to do, because every human being has a different story and, therefore, different opinions on everything.

  Often we want to destroy or alter opinions which are not our own. From the earliest days of man, when people dared to call the world round and germs visible only with enlarging technology an important part of our lives, to today’s polarizing protests and fearmongering about defining what we are, believe, say, or do, there has always been room for two opposing ideas. It took a lot of growing and compromising to get there, however.

  In her school days, my mother, a National Honor Society member, presented a report with a brown and turquoise book cover. She received points off. Nobody uses brown and turquoise together, the teacher said. The rule must have been written in stone somewhere.

  I, too, have been blasted for having opinions all my life, and so has everybody else. Sometimes, however, the things we’re criticized for have little overall effect and can be rather silly. When I was a kid, for example, one of my favorite breakfast leftovers was hamburger and gravy on a soft slice of white bread; when I presented that idea for a theme on what we ate in the morning, my teacher acted as if I had said strychnine. Just because she never had dinner leftovers for breakfast, nobody else could have them, either. So said she, so it was, at least back then, written in stone. I got points off.

  Remember that beer commercial in which the two sides argued, “Tastes great,” and “Less filling?” Until they came out with an ad that clarified it had both attributes, it was a pop culture argument with no true winner, and that can be frustrating. Perhaps there are no “winners,” but simply “compromises.”

  Nobody has the exact same opinion on everything, which is what gives us individuality of character. Often our differences are meaningless, such as people from South Jersey calling a certain spicy meat product Taylor’s Pork Roll, while in North Jersey it’s called Taylor Ham (true story). A hoagie is a sub in some places. Soda is pop or tonic. These are small things which do not have an effect on daily life. Both camps live harmoniously.

  When we delve into politics or social issues, however, the arguments become chaotic or even violent when opinions differ. When it comes to human life in particular, sometimes people are in favor of everybody suffering collectively. They don’t offer good reasons or even compassion or financial help: everybody simply must get in the pool of misery and keep quiet about it.

  Politics is a slippery course to wade through, because those in favor of one party often act as if those on the other side are all evildoers deserving of annihilation. Remember, the only people who belong are those who are exactly the same as you.

  So today I was hoisted up for a shaming session because my opinion wasn’t the same as a celebrity’s. Shame on me. At least the argument was not over pork roll or ham. Also, I didn’t say the person was wrong; just that my experience was different. We can all get along and still not agree.

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  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged life, love, mental-health, philosophy, politics

• He Wins

  Posted at 3:34 pm by kayewer, on November 9, 2024

  An American having a birthday in November–particularly the first ten days of the month–sometimes celebrates or suffers from reasons not to do so. I know first-hand how this happens, because I am one such Scorpio dealing with the fallout of the recent election.

  Second worst birthday ever. The first was back in 2016.

  Belated, early, or not, the outcome of how this humungous chunk of ground on which we live will be run politically for four years can cause elation or depression on one’s birthday, depending on the side you’re on. Our presidents tend to swing like a pendulum between our two main parties (Democratic and Republican), with one side running for four years and the other then taking over for the next four. Usually the incoming party tries to reverse what they feel is damage done in the prior administration, so taxes, policies and international relations tend to fluctuate in kind. For most of my life, however, our country ran reasonably well when run by either party. Then suddenly, somebody swept in and came into power, and as I’ve watched the past ten years unfold, I’ve never seen such a disturbing turn of events.

  After the 2016 election results became my first worst birthday present ever, I watched as throngs of extremists praised far-right ideas and ignored what our forefathers would have recognized as rantings and fascist concepts. Men with no jobs, who could have had jobs taken by immigrant workers, chanted against their presence while ignoring the fact that, without those jobs being held by somebody, food and other merchandise would never leave the farms.

  The worst of it? The overturning of abortion rights for women paved the way to a futuristic Handmaid’s Tale society which will glut men’s egos with what they perceive as power. When I looked at the inordinate expansion of red states which caused the election this past week to swing to the right, I was horrified. Not even half of the states were willing to elect a woman to office. Either the women didn’t vote on Election Day, or they agreed with the men, which would be even more horrifying.

  What woman in her right mind would want to elect a person who thinks that, if she were walking down the street minding her own business, and a man sexually assaulted her, the possibility of pregnancy should be of no concern? She should simply go home and wait to see if she is going to give birth to a baby for whom her attacker would have no responsibility.

  Already men are taunting women with the mantra, “Your body, my choice.” They’re not being deleted from social media. Is Mark Zuckerberg that afraid to put his foot down? Maybe the goal is to put the collective masculine foot down on the throats of women.

  The measure of what made a man a man used to be his epiphany of where women exist in their universe. For ages, men have been afraid of women, and not in the cowardly sense, but in the way that suggests their awe but admiration of what we contribute as the “opposite sex” to society. In ancient times, women held positions of respect. In the deep South, the women ran the household and served as the societal enforcers (viewers of Gone With the Wind will know just how powerful Scarlett’s mother Ellen O’Hara was). Women have shared battlefields (Molly Pitcher), given their lives for science (Marie Curie), penned timeless literary works (already covered in said adapted movie) and proven their worth in settling the West, expanding sports and much more throughout history.

  Anybody who has seen a movie from the Frank Sinatra era knows that women supported men; the post-war household was run by a woman who cooked meals from scratch, minded the children, cleaned and laundered and shopped, and still kept every hair on her head in the perfect style and greeted her man at the door looking her best, with the newspaper ready to be read and slippers to comfort his tired feet. That was no made-up concept; the men crossed the ocean to defend our nation and the world against a formidable foe, and while they were gone, women filled men’s jobs at home, put on work clothes and got themselves dirty, burnt and injured to support the war effort. When the men returned, women had proven their worth, and stepped aside to be equal partners while filling their original roles.

  And now this may all change. Images of present-day Iraq or Pakistan could become this nation’s new norm. Can this truly be what American men want? Subjugation? Free-range denigration?

  If that is true, I will spend every birthday until the last one content in no man earning my respect.

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  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged feminism, kamala-harris, news, politics, women

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