A Small Town in Texas

I promised myself I’d never write about this, as it felt like a violation of an unspoken trust.

Current events caused me to change my mind.

It was a small Texas town back in the fifties, steeped in Southern Baptist religion and ruled by parents who survived the depression. The town culture was a schizophrenic tug of war of hard line religion, the beginnings of rock and roll and poodle skirts.

My sophomore year of high school began with a change that none of us could have imagined. One of our classmates ended the previous school year as Ronald (not the real name) and started the next as Ronnie. We never knew what the reason was; other than Ronald had a medical event that forced the family to make a decision that would affect the rest of his life. Ronald was popular, outgoing; a star athlete who would no longer participate in sports.

The first time Ronnie appeared in the girl’s locker room to change clothes for the gym was awkward and I imagine something akin to Hell for her. Teenagers can be brutal, but no one uttered one single unkind word to Ronnie. We all shared her pain for a situation she had to accept in such a public way. I’d like to believe even in our naïveté, we admired her courage.

Ronnie didn’t hide but she didn’t socialize much either. She graduated and went to college and enjoyed a successful career.

The female senator who authored the disgusting Texas bathroom bill is a fifth generation native, from a small town probably much like the one I where I grew up. The senator claims ancestral roots from the Texas War of Independence, which infers a strong independent woman with courage.

It’s too bad she didn’t know Ronnie. She could use a bit of her heart and a lot of her courage.

If You Have a Big Butt Forget About Wearing White Jeans

The article said women with curvy figures did not have to look out of place in the summer wearing saggy baggy slacks. With a few tweaks, we could wear that summer staple — WHITE JEANS.

I gave up wearing white jeans eons ago, lest I am mistaken for a sailing armada. I took comfort by observing thus far I had avoided old lady ugly feet. I will admit I am vain about my feet. When they are spiffed up, I can wear flip-flops and get by with a meh.

But, thinketh me, oh to wear white jeans again — I’ll give it a shot.

I did all the research the article mentioned. I measured and wept and measured some more. Armed with new research, I trolled the internet for white jeans for curvy women. Most of the sites flat out lie as no female over ten years of age has the measurements that fit curvy women.

After hours of searching, I located the perfect pair; all the measurements jived. The inseam was on target. The jeans fit at the waist and best of all the back was high enough so you wouldn’t do moon shots when you bent over.

This was too good to be true, white jeans with my tricked out toes and I’d be ready for summer. I wouldn’t look like a nursing home reject. I could hang with the cool kids. I hit the PayPal account and looked forward to summer.

The package arrived and I jerked it out of the startled FedEx delivery guys hands so fast he got a huge paper cut and ran bleeding all the way back to his truck.

The first item on the jeans that appeared from the wrapping was the three-inch zipper in front. For the unenlightened, this is a huge red flag that the jeans barely cover somewhere around On My God. I set a record for overtaking a FedEx delivery truck to return the white jeans.

Father Time changes everything. If there was justice in the universe, time would be measured as Mother Time and white jeans would always favor curvy women.


Fairy Tales Prove To Be Too Grim

Read fairy tales I thought. That should provide relief from reading about you-know-who.

I believed I would feel better.

I was wrong.

“Bluebeard”,   a wealthy and powerful man, is an ugly nobleman who has been married several times to beautiful women who have all vanished.

After hosting a banquet, he chooses the youngest daughter of his neighbor to be his wife.  She goes to live with him in his rich and luxurious palace in the countryside, away from her family. The similarities between Bluebeard and a current persona non grata are astounding.

This was depressing and I moved on to Hans Christian Anderson.  In “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, unscrupulous weavers promise the emperor a set of new clothes. The clothes are invisible to those who are unfit, stupid or incompetent. The Emperor refused to admit he couldn’t see the clothes and be judged unfit. The Emperor’s noblemen bowed, scraped, and declared the clothing magnificent.

This sounded too much like Trump’s recent cabinet meeting so I read no further.

The brothers Grimm wrote the “Town Musicians of Bremen,” in about 1853. A donkey, dog, cat, and chicken find themselves disenfranchised. They believe, united they can make a better life and set out for Bremen. On the way, they discover a cottage occupied by robbers. Peeping in the window, the animals see a table covered with good things and the robbers enjoying themselves. The animals force the robbers to abandon the cottage, move in and live happily ever after.

It occurred to me if this tale were written today, the ending would be quite different. The animals would have found themselves kicked to the curb and Donald, Ivanka, Jared and Steve occupying the cottage.

So much for fairy tales. I am going to binge-watch “Orange is the New Black.”


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