Fuck these people.

Dear you,

No surprise that Roe v. Wade went down.  No surprise that the reddest of states under total fascist GOP control are dreaming up stringent punishments for those who seek abortions. See Alabama.  The rapist is likely to do less time than his female victim who is impregnated and needs an abortion. Florida, my state?  If you are waiting for my governor's next moves, keep waiting.  I don't think he is going to go beyond the current 15 week limitations until after the November election.  He is, as you know, up for re-election and will be challenged by a Democrat, probably Charlie Crist.  If #DeathSantis drops more Draconian rules about abortion now, he knows the turnout for Blue will be big, highly motivated.  It might also push the "moderate" Republicans a step away from Red.  So, I might be wrong, but expect semi-silence from Ron himself until after the midterms.

In the meantime, I know you are all scrambling to support whatever efforts can help support choice.  Women's autonomy.  We saw it coming, but the reality in print on Friday, 6/24/2022 was astonishing.  This was sadistic "jurisprudence" supported by sadistic citizens.  They are filled with glee and praising their savior, doing whatever version of the happy-dance they can execute without feeling sinful. Shall we congratulate these winners?  Should we give a nod to those "nice" Americans blandly smiling and telling women they'd be so happy to adopt their baby?

No.

Fuck these people. 

That's all.

Love (or should I say "moo" since women are now considered cattle),

Joyce 

#Resist

Heat Wave Tips To Stay and Be Cool.

Dear you,

The first killer heat wave of 2022 is messing with our already messy heads.  We need to fight through and for so much these days; these paralyzing temperatures aren't helping.  Pushing to do this or that becomes more difficult.  Juneteenth celebrations go on, but I worry about the impacts on attendants out there in all this. This applies to Gay Pride celebrations too.  See the weather map.  It's a dome that is going nowhere.  Weeks and probably months of this are predicted.  What can we do to stay cool?

1.  Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Yes, we know this. But do it A LOT!!!!

2.  Donate, donate, donate. A good way to feel cool and less paralyzed is to remember those who are fighting something deadlier than heat.  We can't let our minds drift away from Ukraine. I am still obsessed with #AnimalsOfUkraine (see above) and inspired by those working to save them. Suggestions for donations: 

International Fund for Animal Welfare - volunteers work with locals to get supplies to wildlife and animal shelters in the war zones.

Veterinarians Without Borders - a Canadian based group of vets on the ground in Ukraine helping wounded creatures.

Humane Society International - the organization partners with the Romanian Red Cross to transport pet food into Ukraine and care for animals in shelters, homes and on the streets.

All three of these groups can be reached online. Go to any, please, and donate. This will lift your spirits, wrap you in a cool breeze of relief.

3.  Rise, rise, rise above the buzz-killers - Anecdote that applies:  On the home front here in Seagrove Beach, an angry old man threw a hissy fit at our Coastal Branch Library.  The library closed all weekend and tomorrow to honor Juneteenth. Earlier this week, the dude, a typical local MAGA-cap fanatic, read the notice posted on the door announcing this upcoming closure and lost his mind.  He stormed to the checkout desk and confronted the librarian, who happens to be African American and a veteran library worker.  "Why are you closed for three days for that fake holiday?  Isn't it enough that you have your Black President's Day?"  The librarian was Teflon, unperturbed, and simply informed him of the re-opening time on Tuesday.  And then she smiled and wished him a "beautiful Juneteenth".

Very, very cool. Impressive rising.  How did she do this?  I could not have resisted the temptation to mock his twisty ignorance. "Black President's Day?"  Really?  Gee, I never knew Obama had his own holiday.  These poor people, bottomless pits of buzz-killing uncool.  Rise above them.

In summary, ways to stay and be cool:

1.  Hydrate.

2.  Donate to help the animals of Ukraine.

3.  Rise above buzz killers.

Done.

Wishing you all a beautiful Juneteenth!

Joyce

Graduation Season!

Dear you,

The weather people say the high today is 89 degrees.  Don't believe that.  The feels-like temperature is closer to 105.  The 30A beach scene is sizzling, and not in a sexy way.  The atmosphere is dog-day August hot and most visitors are crankier than usual.  They are huddling together in their crowded, overbooked, condos and perhaps pouting over the disappointing vacation.  Many among the current wave of vacationers are here to celebrate graduations.  Lots of car art in the parking lot.  Lots of congrats to the Brittney's, Bradley's and Bennie's scrawled on windows.  They made it out of whatever school they were in.  The messages seem to suggest nothing but over-ness.  But now and then, I see forward thinking messages.  In my building's parking area, I saw something different; I saw "USC 2026".

This car art predicting a future graduation from an elevated West Coast university is not typical of this zone and its visiting demographics.  Who is this youngster and what made her/him aim for the strange of out there, aim for continuing and not ending? I imagine the story, based on the limited facts I have which are the following:  this grad is traveling with 8 other teenage boy pals, their license plates show they're from Tennessee, and they appear fit, healthy, and happy.  They wear t-shirts testifying to prior membership in wrestling, tennis or soccer teams.  They don't walk around drunk or scream "Yeehaw".  And even if they are loud beneath my feet, it's because that's what happens when you load nine teenage boys into one condo.  Testosterone times nine. Now, back to this USC-bound graduate, his imagined story . . . 

Kirby just graduated from a private high school in the suburbs of Nashville.  His mother is a legal aide and his father works at a local bank.  They, the parents, Lucy and Roberto, moved to Tennessee from San Francisco, CA, right after they were married.  The Bay Area was getting too expensive.  Where to go? The couple was fearless, funny, and trusted the randomness of fate.  So, yeah, they literally threw a dart at a map of the USA and it landed on Tennessee. They thought this was hilarious!

Lucy and Roberto didn't really understand the South and they really hated country music.  But they trusted the fateful dart and jumped! Within a matter of months the couple settled into an affordable first home, landed good jobs, and made new friends.  Two years later, Lucy gave birth to their first and (so far) only child, Kirby.  Kirby was a golden child.  He excelled in school and athletics and managed to rise above local "good old boy" influences.  By the time he was fifteen, he could burn through his Dad's daily copy of The Wall Street Journal in an hour.  He also had an affinity for animals; lost or lonely stray dogs and cats gravitated to Kirby's yard.  They seemed to know love lived there.  These two talents, business smarts and a connection to wild things, defined his professional future.  He would become a venture capitalist whose investments supported animal rights causes and wildlife preservation efforts.  Kirby will be one of the good guys, a VC who creates and saves.  But right now, at this moment in the summer of 2020, he is spending time with his best buddies before flying away, possibly forever.  The guys will miss him. They're already planning the next graduation party when he exits USC (summa cum laude) in 2026.  This time they'll decorate his car window with another prediction:  Stanford 2030, The White House 2050.

That's it.  Predictably corny, I know, but I never claimed to have a literary gift.  I can lay down a coherent journal entry but fiction eludes me. Anyway, indulge me if you will. It isn't often that I imagine sweet back-stories for the visitors I live with.  I usually predict these youngsters will be serial killers or racist mall cops. But there is something different about this specific visitor, this "Kirby" and his best buds. I like them (even if they are rambunctious below my feet). Their existence is very reassuring to me during these turbulent and too hot days.  I don't know why. I don't know them at all, but I trust them with our tomorrows . . . 

Congratulations Kirby.

Happy graduation!

Love,

Joyce