Weird Ramblings

I stitch thoughts together. It takes some time.  As my mother would tell you, I am not the best seamstress in the world, but I can hem a pant leg or close a hole and have it look all right.  Let’s see how I do now.

I feel like Specialist Cameron Klein at the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier.  Only instead of discovering that HYDRA secretly controlled SHIELD for years, I’m discovering that this election was more about white supremacy than conservative ideals.  Much like it took me about an hour to realize that the hijackers that flew the planes into the Twin Towers didn’t hijack empty planes, I am delighted to discover naiveté still resides in me.  I thought I had thrown it all way in the 80s.  However, as I read vetted news sources and sift through opinion pieces, one thing has become very clear:  white supremacy has a gun to my head and he wants me to push the button to launch the helicarriers.

When I leave work early, I catch Tell Me Everything with John Fugelsang on Sirius XM; I love listening to StarTalk with Neil deGrasse Tyson, which plays during my drive home. Dr. Tyson keeps the edge off of road rage.  However, Tell Me Everything airs before StarTalk weekdays. On Inauguration Day 2017, a comedian’s name whose name I didn’t catch went down on the streets of DC to ask those supports in attendance when America was great. That was the sound byte slogan of the Electoral College winner.

The answer surprised me.  Yes, I use the singular knowingly.  Wish to guess when America Was Great last?

Eight years ago.  Eight flipping years ago.  Before President Obama.  Before a black man was our president.  It was that personal.

Ordering the same cake, except it was less actual cake and more foam, was personal.

The Pipeline.  The Ban – things I don’t recall hearing about while on the campaign trail.  These were not promises to keep.  These were personal on a level that can point to hate only.

Hate.  I have a weird relationship with hate.  I know Hate, in its all-consuming, passionate ways.  Unlike its counterpart, Love, the fire never burns down to embers.  It demands fresh fuel. It demands attention. It demands to be fed.  Anyone that hates, hates actively.  No one suffers from unrequited hate.

And that’s what the protests are about, or what Sharon Carter represents in this analogy.  No one wants Hate steering the bus.  Hate segregates the bus. This driver hasn’t been to the optometrist for a long time and can’t see clearly.  Hate’s spectacles are an old prescription from the beginning of time; Coke bottle lenses in hard plastic frames made of fear and ignorance.  We all rode on this bus before.  It was an awful, horrible ride.  So many fought to change the driver and change the route.

I can’t believe we have to do it all over again.  While one part of me believes this to be the last-ditch, dying-throws of an Ideal that has long outlived its time or usefulness, I cannot allow this ancient beast to lumber across the land another day.

That’s what I’m saying.  I have to be Specialist Cameron Klein and say, “No.”  Even if Hate holds a gun to my head.  Even if the media and protests have a gun pointed at Hate – I have to say "no" to Hate.  I must.

Last year, I couldn’t believe how much superhero merchandising was available.  My inner child, preteen and teenager squealed at Captain America water cans, Iron Man phone covers and Batman bedroom sets.  I couldn’t believe I lived long enough to see it.

This year, I can’t believe I’ve lived long enough to see a Captain America shield used as a symbol of resistance.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not.” – Captain America, from the same movie I’ve been talking about all this time.

I don’t care for whom you voted.  I don’t care for which party you’re registered.  I care if you want HYDRA to win.  I care if you want a segregated bus.  I care if you allow fear and ignorance to rule your life.

I’m willing to pay the price.  Hell, my Captain America thermos might as well serve as a symbol of my resistance as well as it keeps my tea warm.