Why I Want to be Molly Ivins

So 9/11 Means it's OK to Spy on Americans?

It is beyond me why Bush has not been arrested for violating the laws of the United States a 100 times over. Is it that he smiles when he says it? Is it that he's a rich bastard? What is it?

Thank all the gods for Molly Ivins and others like her who refuse to be silenced and who keep pointing out that the emporer is standing up there buck naked (with a teeny tiny penis, at that.)

This was originally written on 12/21/2005. May Molly Ivins rest in ....raising holy hell where ever she is. Have a drink for me, Molly. 10/29/2007

Birthday Musings

Today is my sister's 44th birthday. She was born on December 17th, 1961. 5 weeks early, or something like that. I wasn't even 2 years old yet, so all I have are memories of the stories, not real memories of her birth, but she stayed in the hospital longer than my mother did, and when she came home, they wrapped her in a red blanket, and put a card on her that said "Merry Christmas, Mommy!".

Donna was a great sister. She taught me all the things sisters are supposed to teach you. You know - how to argue. How to fight. How to laugh. How to gang up on your brothers. Donna basically rocked. She grew into a troubled woman, but despite the violence of her marriage, and the turmoil of her emotional life, she was always a loving sister and friend to me, and a wonderful mother to her children. I miss her. I miss her everyday. Of course today, I miss her more.

She died on my 42nd birthday - February 25, 2002. We had shared dinner the night before, and in looking back, I could see her fading. It was as if she was becoming translucent, as if her colors were already moving to that other place - where ever that other place is.

As my 43rd birthday approached, I dreaded it. Not because I would turn 43, but because that was the day Donna died. How can you not mark that anniversary? How can the day not change? I dreaded it. I decided I wouldn't have a birthday any more. Again - aging didn't - and doesn't - bother me. But I could not imagine celebrating with cake and candles and and parties and presents on the day that my sister - the friend who'd shown up before I was 2 and who'd travelled life with me for 40 years - died. There was no way.

That's when my Dad stepped in. Well, he said, you can share my birthday, then. Because Dad was wise enough to know that birthdays are important enough to celebrate -- and knew enough of the law to know that any part of a day is a whole day. In the standard family legal canon, that extended itself to "any part of a year is a whole year". So it was justified, and for that year, at least, my birthday was officially moved from February 25th to December 12th, and 2 months and 13 days before my actual birthday, I turned 43.

That's what's special about my family - we can move birthdays if we want to.

Life, and death, goes on. Last year, on December 28, 2004, 16 days after his 75th birthday, my father's colors faded on into that other place, too. I know there was a grand, and colorful reunion, but it's been a hard year for us.

This year, on December 12, as I mourned the fact that my Dad wasn't here for me to share a birthday with, my mother quietly emailed me.

"By the way - Happy Birthday". That's another thing that makes my family special. We remember when birthdays get moved.

Happy Holy Days

The following italicized print is a letter to the editor that was originally published in

our local newspaper on December 7, 2005. The archives are only available to subscribers of the newspaper, so I am reprinting it here so that my words that follow make some sense.



"The TV news is full of stories where companies this year supposedly are unable to say “Merry Christmas.�? Hopefully that will not happen in the Sandhills.

An amusing report on TV stated one entity was wishing the public “Merry Winter.�? Good grief! Beam me up! No more nativity scenes, no Merry Christmas, maybe no more “in God we trust�? — this trend started long ago, and is unstoppable, may God help us all.

If this trend continues expect an insurgency movement in the U.S. by Christians. I’ll be glad to sign up for that. And, by the way, thank God for George Bush, a president with backbone."

_________

Maia's Opinion:

I hope {name edited} is right; that people in the Sandhills will not be unable to say "Merry Christmas". Christmas is an important time of year for Christians. However, I also hope that they will be able to graciously accept that more and more Sandhills residents celebrate winter holidays other than Christmas. I hope to see those very same folks being able to smile happily at their neighbors, wishing them a Happy Hannukah, which this year begins at sundown on Dec. 25, which means that at least this year my Jewish friends get a least part of their holiday off from work like my Christian friends.

If you can't bring yourself to try and wrap your mouth around a word as unfamiliar as "Hannukah", try "Holiday". After all, it means "Holy-day", and that's what Christmas, and Hannukah, and a raft of other days off from work are about.

Having grown up in a more religiously diverse area, I understand that "Happy Holidays" means what it says - "Happy HOLY-days". Don't be offended if someone wishes you Happy Holidays! Graciously accept, smile, and say thank you.

I'm sorry to see {name edited} wish to be "beamed up". I suppose he is looking for that mythic Christian nation I keep hearing about. Good luck - if you find it, and if you decide to go, well, those of us here in the diverse USA will miss you, but will understand your decision to go.

Happy Holidays.

____________

I was delighted to see that my letter, some what edited, was published in the paper. Of course, it was published on the same day that someone else wrote a "Happy Birthday, Jesus Letter", that asked that their Lord and Savior made sure that those of us who didn't recognize His Holy Birth saw the error of our ways and would just give up our heathen ways and begin to wish the Christians in this town a Merry Christmas, and just suck it up when someone insisted that the other holidays just didn't matter. In my letter, I only mentioned Hannukah (which I am never quite sure how to spell, so please forgive me if I've messed it up.)

I didn't mention those of us who gathered on a farm out in the middle of noplace (but trust me, it was some place!) to celebrate the winter solstice, the changing of the season, the birth of the light. It was a huge potluck dinner, a bonfire, drum circle, and folks from all walks of life. It was c-o-l-d, at least for this part of North Carolina. The age range was from about 12 to nearly 80. I have no idea what the religious persuasion of all of the people were. I know that there were some church going people, and I know that there were some who identify as pagan. To stand around the bonfire, and share our hopes for the coming year, to feel the community of like-minded "tree-huggers" was certainly a holy experience for me, and one of the best part of my "holidays".

It made me think about what it must have been like before there were electric christmas lights, and before there was Wal-Mart and Target employees who weren't allowed to say Merry Christmas. The Winter Solstice is the longest night of the year; after that, the days get longer. The light returns. It was a cause for celebration, because the people knew that spring was on its way, and with the light would come warmth, and new growth. The lambs and calfs would be born, the children would once again run and play outside, the older folks' bones wouldn't ache quite so badly, and, God willing, a good crop would grow and guarantee survival for another year.

So Welcome Light.

Happy Holy Days.