Words about PRIDE

This week I’m writing with just a bit of tongue in cheek.

In time for Father’s Day, Summer Solstice, and PRIDE, I’m offering a little bite of this & a little bite of that.

Let’s start here.

FOR SALE on CRAIGSLIST: Lotsa Boxes to the highest bidder. Foreign currency accepted. Classy Bathroom Chandelier & Shower Curtain thrown in for free.

His chickens have sure come home to roost.

And here’s a hysterical and relevant song I love, “Little Boxes” by Terri Grayum.

Next … Too Little Too Late …. Or Better Late Than Never? 

From @Advocacy News …. America, we deeply regret to inform you…that Cracker Barrel has fallen. First it was Bud Light, then it was Chick-fil-A, but now a beloved red state franchise has committed the unforgivable crimes of sponsoring rainbow-painted park benches at a Pride festival and releasing a statement entitled “Everyone feels at home: Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, & Belonging at Cracker Barrel.” Oh, the humanity!

Where do YOU think this “transformation” is coming from?  

  • a sincere “change of heart”
  • recognizing that “diversity, equity, inclusion & belonging” is good for business?
  • A risky bid to boost sagging sales?

Let us know here.

Also from @Advocacy Newsanother of our young heroes, Greta Thurnberg  has graduated from high school … but not her Friday Strikes.

And speaking of young heroes … 10-year-old Caitlyne Gonzales is right up there on my list.  She’s the little girl who survived the Uvalde school massacre but lost her best friend. She has since become a voice of reason at the Texas Capitol.  Watch her speak truth to power …  I shouldn’t have to do this. I’m just 10 years old.

As for “older heroes” … here’s one of my favorite political historians, Heather Cox Richardson offering some food for thought on June 9th in her column, Letters From An American. And a brand new addition to my personal list, Illinois Governor JB Pritzker, the first to sign into law a “no book ban”.

“Here in Illinois, we don’t hide from the truth, we embrace it,” said Governor JB Pritzker “Young people shouldn’t be kept from learning about the realities of our world; I want them to become critical thinkers, exposed to ideas that they disagree with, proud of what our nation has overcome, and thoughtful about what comes next.” If he can do it, others can do it, right?

So …. What about Summer?  This week it’s still in the high ‘60s here in Oregon, but I know the ‘80s (and ‘90s) are coming back any day now.

In celebration of my favorite daughter Chris’s 64th birthday, we slipped in an extra “Inspiration” on Sunday.  I didn’t send it as an email to subscribers because I’m determined to keep my commitment to no more than one email per week. But I do hope you’ll take a look.  It also celebrates summer with a beautiful video of my all-time favorite, “Summer Breeze” by Seals & Crofts, along with some other tidbits.

And speaking of “other tidbits” …   (remember, I promised a little bite of this & a little bite of that) here’s a bit of uplift from my West Hills UU Fellowship Special Music Service … our fabulous Choristers’ rendition of “Loves Me Like a Rock”. Of course you’re welcome to watch the whole service here if you’d like.

As for Father’s Day …  I have two offerings.  First, this inspiring clip from subscriber and dear friend, Cheryl Rodakowski, whose dad was a very special participant in a long-standing Colorado event. (Maybe you know a dad who would appreciate seeing this).

And a little tribute to my own dad, Albert Otto Malcein  (February 12, 1913 – January 19, 1999) from Arms Filled With Bittersweet.

If My Father Had Died in August

I would have lined his coffin with
tomato vines and all the green husks
and yellow corn silk I could gather.

But it is January, the most barren month,
when I place the final driving cap on his
cold, stony head just before they close
the coffin, and I can’t help but return
to those dark winter mornings when
I would watch him finish his coffee

slip a fresh pack of Luckies and a book
of matches inside his cap, and in a single
smooth motion flip it onto his head
and snug it down with one big hand.

I would watch him whistle his way out
to the barn, smelling of bacon and coffee
and fresh tobacco, while I hunkered,
still sleepy, over hot cocoa.

On dusky evenings in August before
the match light flared and smoke drifted
to where I sat on the back steps reading,
it would be the rich smell of tomato vines
and the sweetness of corn husks that
always announced my father’s presence on
the porch.

Sometimes, after lighting up the day’s
last Lucky Strike, he would peel back
the empty wrapper’s tinfoil, hand it
over for my collection, toss the crumbled
pack into the waste pail, and sit down beside me.

And it would be on those nights, as the light
faded and we sat wrapped together in the
fragrance of a long summer’s day, that
he might ask me to read to him.

All Right!  It’s almost Summer, and here we are still together on this remarkable planet.  Until next time then … LET’S DO WHAT WE CAN TO MAKE SURE LOVE WINS!!!!

Published by Sulima Malzin

This 'Aging Rascal & Occasional Writer' invites you to embrace the world through her open window of poetry, art, activism, music, and humor.

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Not to be cynical, as I believe most people are compassionate, however the almighty dollar plays a large part – welcoming all people is “good for business “. More people, more customers, more $$$. And the world keeps turning.

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