Living the Life of a Liberal Conservative

Can a conservative and a liberal peacefully cohabitate the same body? They certainly can -- I am the living proof of it. Before anyone ruffles their feathers, let me explain.

I was raised in a conservative family, and my parents made sure we children understood there was no tolerance, under our roof, for loose morals and teenage rebellion. Both my mother and father held a respectable place within their social circles, and were very clear about their views on life. To them, honor, hard work, faith and respect were huge on their list of priorities. Unbeknownst to me, their loving influence affected me more than I thought possible.

Like my parents, I also believe in solid morals and traditions, I am a fervid believer in the power of Spirit, and live my life according to the Golden Rule. These same values I try to impart to my children. In fact, I made a choice long ago to be a stay-at-home mom, to ensure that my kids would be raised by me, and would not be influenced by questionable views at such young ages. Thankfully, I married a great man who shares the same principals, so it has been fairly smooth sailing the whole twenty years we’ve been together.

Now, to the liberal part…

Although I live my life according to the views that have been passed down to me, I can’t bury my head under the sand and pretend that everybody is as privileged as I have been. I know there are people out there who have not had the advantage of growing up in a solid home; I know there are people that have only experienced hardship in their lives, simply because they were born on the wrong side of the tracks, or in countries ravaged by war and famine. And I know there are people who do rely on others before they can pick themselves up after they have fallen. Those people exist, so I feel that I have to keep my mind open and embrace the fact that if we hope to move forward within the process of human evolution, I have to be a part of accepting the beauty of diversity in the world. I believe wholeheartedly in self-responsibility, but I also believe in helping others out if they are in a position of not being able to help themselves -- at least temporarily.

I believe in preserving our environment, because we only have one Earth; it’s a bit controversial to state we have strong family values, and then not realize that saving our Earth is the very best gift we can give to our children and the generations that will come next, as they will have a healthy, beautiful planet to live on. Saving our planet ensures the survival of our own genes.

My stand on gay marriage? It shouldn’t be my stand, since I am not gay. I believe marriage is a union between two people who love each other, who pledge to support the other and commit to a relationship the rest of their lives. The old Testament might have implied that marriage is between man and woman, but then, Sacred Scriptures also teach that what God unites no man should dissolve; yet, good Christians divorce and get remarried every day, thus sinning in the eyes of God. As far as I am concerned, I prefer to let God make the call of judgment. Furthermore, I don’t believe that Church and State should walk hand in hand, and if a gay couple live together for a number of years, and have common property, they should have the same LEGAL rights as a couple who’s heterosexual. Of course, that’s my two cents, and I don’t expect anyone to agree with me, but please don’t throw in the Bible where it doesn’t belong.

Last but not least, I believe in equal freedom. If the government needs to stay out of an issue, then it needs to stay out of all of them – freedoms shouldn’t just be picked at random only because they benefit a selected few. And, if we believe in life at all costs, then we need to come up with a plan to support the life we promote. Being against both abortion and welfare simply cannot work. If children are forced to be born to mothers who can’t take care of them, physically or emotionally, we need a system that will ensure someone WILL take care of those children and they won’t be thrown from one foster home to another until they are of age. Adoption in our country could work, but it often fails because of high costs that force aspiring parents to go abroad to find children. We won’t even go as far as discussing the fact that many couple prefer to adopt babies, not older children who have been in the system for a while and/or might display emotional scars or erratic behavior.

I could go on and on, citing many examples, but I think everyone has pretty much gotten the picture. I am a core conservative who’s liberal at the edges, with no need for extremes. And thanks to that, I am enjoying the best of both worlds.

Are all Celebrities Jerks?

The more I read about celebrities, the more I realize not only that I will never be one, but also that I am good and happy with it. Why, you might ask? Let me explain...

As much as I would love to dazzle the world with my writing, and squeeze Morgan Freeman's hand as he prepares to accept an Oscar for a movie based on one of my stories (hey, one can still dream, right?), one of the things I enjoy most in life is to connect with people, especially readers.

Last year, a lovely young lady sent me a friend request on Facebook after reading one of my novels, The Book of Obeah, and when I accepted it and wrote on her wall to thank her, she wrote me back to let me know how surprised she was to get my note. Earlier tonight, another lady responded to an event invitation and expressed how cool it is to be able to talk to the writers in my group; not too long ago, she explained, she had a bad experience with an indie author who acted as though she was above everyone else. To me, such behavior is truly mind-boggling. Why would anyone NOT want to talk to the very same people who made them who they are??

Certainly, I understand why really big celebs can't talk to individual fans -- if they chose to respond to every person who tries to get in touch with them, they wouldn't have time to do anything else. But what about the smaller guys? Why should they be so distant? Years ago, I worked in a hotel downtown which housed many celebrities when they were in town. The thing that I found most comical was that the legends were friendly (David Crosby was a peach, and so was John Denver, may he rest in peace), while the small bands that were part of Lollapalooza were, for the most part, jerks. Napoleon Complex, anybody?

There almost seems to be a veil of mysticism surrounding artists in general, and many come to accept it as part of the job. Handsome actors, beautiful actresses, talented musicians, dancers and writers, weren't always demi-gods...there was a time when even the "untouchables" depended on the kindness of others to open the door. One thing is certain: Without people buying tickets, actors and directors would be scrubbing dishes in Hollywood, without good folks who enjoy music, singers wouldn't be able to charge a fortune for a concert ticket, and without readers, writers are NOTHING.

If being a celebrity means being superior and alienated, then I know that it is not what I want to be when I grow up, and if my books do well, I owe it all to the good people who decided to give my work a chance. The fact that you, the reader, support my dream and allow me to be who I am means the world to me, and puts YOU on a huge pedestal in my eyes. Never forget that.

The Great Little Gatsby

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the great little Gatsby. A parody of a great classic, you say? No, not at all – the Gatsby I am talking about is a tiny little kitten, whose life had such a rocky start that he ended up at my door at the age of four weeks, with little fur on his body and nearly starving.

You see, Gatsby’s mother – a stray cat – was killed by a car, and she left behind five kittens that were barely three and a half weeks old. They were rescued by a kind lady, who was able to find homes for three and was left with two of the babies.
The first of those two babies, Karma, made her way to my house after my daughter’s friend brought her home and was told she couldn’t keep her. When she brought her to me, I had no idea how to take care of a cat so young, but a trip to Petsmart set me straight – I got back with cans of kitten milk, some kitten food, a litter box, and a bottle of Dawn dishwashing soap. Why the dishwashing soap, inquiring minds might wonder? Well, flea drops can only be used on cats eight weeks and older, but Dawn can be used at any age to give kittens a bath.

Giving Karma a bath was the beginning of the adventure….as soon as we got her wet, the poor little soul looked like a frightened sea monkey – all eyes and ears. Next came the feeding part, and alas, it wasn’t any easier. Karma was too small to eat cat food, so I went back to the grocery store and got some turkey and beef baby food. The baby food worked, and within a few days, Karma was ready to find a home. I started a Facebook campaign, and I’m pretty sure people on my friends list cringed each time I posted a new request, since I posted so many. Finally, Karma found a home with my son’s friend, whose mother instantly fell in love the moment she saw the kitten. A day or two after she went to her new home, I called to check on her, and the new mom told me the “baby” was already getting spoiled rotten…that same day, this wonderful lady bought fresh shrimp, boiled them, and minced them in tiny pieces for Karma to eat. Needless to say, I asked if she was also willing to adopt a 40-year-old daughter. She said no, so I’m still here fixing my own dinners.

The day after Karma left, my daughter’s friend called me and told me the lady who still had the last baby didn’t know what to do with him; he wasn’t eating and he was getting weaker by the day. Of course, I told her to bring him to my house. I didn’t know what I was going to do with him, but I had to give him a chance.

The little guy arrived, wrapped into a blue blanket and nearly furless. He was dirty and ridden with fleas, so I gave him a bath; actually two, since he still had fleas after the first one. At this point I had a clean kitten, but he was so weak, he could not even stand up or play. His eyes wouldn’t focus, and he barely meowed. When my vet came and weighed him, the next day, he was only eleven ounces! The vet was pretty sure that this kitten hadn’t eaten anything since his mother died, a week before. We started a round-the-clock regimen of baby food and kitten milk, and after a few days, he started coming around.

I found him a home, but three weeks later, the lady who adopted him developed allergies, and asked me to help her find a new place for him, so I got back on Facebook pleading, once again, to find this little guy a home. This time my campaign was short, and a family from St. Louis agreed to adopt him. The lady of the house happened to be visiting family in NC, so we arranged to meet to finalize the adoption. She chose the name Gatsby for him, and I think it fits him perfectly! His final destination will be St. Louis, so he has a few miles to burn before he can make it to his forever home, but one thing is for sure: Once he gets there, he will have the home of a cat’s dreams. With two loving adults and two happy children around, who will undoubtedly play with him all the time, what’s there not to love?

So, this is the story of the great little Gatsby, a kitten who started on low gear but is going to go far, all thanks to the love of wonderful humans who took one look at his little Yoda face and instantly made him a part of their family. Thank you.
And to my friends on Facebook who read the many posts, and were kind enough not to send me a box of chocolates laced with arsenic, I really appreciate you. Now that you know Gatsby’s story, I am sure you understand why I had to do it.