Time to Laugh

Saturday Night Live recently did a skit that mocks the transition of transgender women. It was a fake ad for “Estro-Maxx,” a hormone replacement therapy.

I haven't seen it yet but I will in just a minute. I became aware of it within hours because of a newswire and I thought to myself - how soon will "the community" react and how knee jerk will it be and how that automatically makes us look bad. The blogs picked it up immediately and It was only a day before I started seeing headlines about backlash. I haven't read any of those yet, either but I already know it won't look good.

In my opinion, our organisations create the "shove it down your throat" feeling we all hate. At the same time, I appreciate every single person who advocates equality for all in whatever way they can.

I know there are times to fight but this isn't one of them. Hey, they do skits about the President, right? And Jesus and rock stars, the beautiful and the ignorant people and all the silliness of life and death on our little planet, too.
Everybody and maybe even everything has been, or will be made fun of. That, itself is funny if you think about it. I'm not saying my feelings don't get hurt, they do. And even if I can't always laugh at myself, I can appreciate the humor for what it is.

Laugh. You live longer.

T-Fabulous

Today would have been a bad day...

Last night I decided to sleep alone. It wasn't good sleep.
I wake with achy muscles and bones and a heavy heart.
I duck out of work today and feel crappy about it. I contemplate my life here.

My boss calls in the afternoon. I answer the phone, ready to take some heat but instead he asks me to keep working for him and tells me that T-Fab wants me do do some work for them. Total Fabrications is a small woodworking shop that felt like home the first day I saw it about six months ago. I would love to work for them.

I start out to see them but the truck won't start. Dead battery.
I take Darcy's car and have a great meeting with the owners and small crew. The more we talked, the more at home I felt. I left feeling elated with a twinge of excitement for the future. I hope this will turn into a full time job.
On the drive home, the gas pedal seemed like it forgot what it was supposed to do, and as the car slowed I realised the engine had stopped. I coasted to a safe spot on the side of the road. I say "safe" but this is MLK and I am the only white woman - strike that - white tranny around. I instinctively reach for my phone and the second I see the dark screen, I remember talking with Darcy while I was at T-Fab about the gas gage and how it doesn't work. The phone warned me it was going to die right after we hung up.

I must have panicked for a second because I couldn't figure out how to open the trunk of Darcy's car to get the gas can. I couldn't even get the doors to lock. I was a mess.

So I strike out to find the nearest phone and come to two middle aged black guys talking in a church parking lot. As I approach, I can already see disgust in the face of one of them. I must have looked awfully distressed because even as one was repulsed and the other not pleased at all, I was allowed to used his phone.
I was thankful that I remembered Darcy's number, thankful she heard her phone and most grateful that these two people would help me. I thanked them and one said "I hope it all works out for you". The other just turned away with a scowl.

I sat in the car with the doors still unlocked as passers by scrutinised me. I was completely out of place and a little scared. Then I remembered that the truck battery was dead - but then Darcy had put the charger on it.The truck has had an intermittent problem with the alternator and ends up running off the battery (gotta fix that). Even if she did get it started, she probably couldn't make it here and Oh No. I bet she is stranded, too.

The sun was getting low and I thought that if I could get the trunk open and go get gas, I could get home, call her and rescue her! But I waited a little while longer and was happily startled by her tap on the window. She is my hero!
As she drove us home, she described how our neighbors  made her feel exceptionally welcome and went out of their way to help us. (They're black, too.) We're baking them a cake.

So. A mixed day, full of good and bad.
But the thing is,
the bad wasn't really bad
and the good was the best.

My faith and my hope, in every way, is renewed.