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Showing posts from November, 2016

Guilty Pleasure

     I have a secret fascination. Well, actually I probably have more than one, but for our purposes I’m just delving into one here. I like to look at the unsavory entertainment news on the internet. The worldwide web. There you have it.      If any of the Jackson family cousins are staying at Michael’s old Neverland Ranch, I’ll follow that story. When Khloe Kardashian talks about her marriage to Lamar, I’m all over it. Somebody unearths some dirt on Jack Nicholson, I knew it yesterday. How long has Jeff Bridges been married to his wife Susan? Wait for it…coming up on 40 years.      I’m not proud of this, but it is a fact.      I know I’m a semi-educated 55-year-old woman who should be worried about the way people in Burma are treated, but instead I know a whole lot more about Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively.      I’m hoping to God that I’m not the only one who checks Yahoo before I butter my flax seed toast. And if I am, what a loser. I blame technology. I don’t remember car

Stand by me?

     Like most Bernie Sanders fans my age, I got all excited when I saw those Facebook posts about “checking in” with the Standing Rock pipeline protest in North Dakota.      The chants from participating in the School of the Americas protests years ago came back to me. “North and South the people say Close the SOA.”     I’m 55 and the heart of my religious convictions revolve around social justice. It’s the part of my faith that speaks to me the loudest. That and Mary. And Jesus.      Anywho, not to go on a religious rant here (because I really want to go on a humanity rant), but I spent a good part of my morning today reading a bunch of Google search articles about the Standing Rock pipeline protests. I read stories about how Native Americans from across the country are coming to protest, about how young people are involved, about how police are marking those they arrest with numbers (sort of like days of old). I read a couple of stories about how other North Dakotans think