Political Diversions

"A lady doesn't hate things, a lady says 'I don't care for that.'" is a quote that rings in my mind almost daily. It applies to a lot of situations, and the verbiage doesn't have to be exact. There are so many times I want to say FUCK THAT FUCKING SHIT but somehow manage to mumble a more socially acceptable "No, thank you." or possibly even a "None for me, thank you." These phrases cost me nothing, and they allow me to communicate in a civil fashion with people.

My grandmother was the stickler for that phrase. She'd drop the N word at her leisure, she'd whisper the word cancer and refer to all Catholics as "Damned Catholics". That same woman was a walking how-to manual of social graces. If she was a bad person behind closed doors, she knew how to behave as a human being and at least PRETEND to be well mannered and polite in front of others.

I'm not saying that it's great that she pretended to be a nice person. I'm pretty confident that the people who weren't in keeping with her thoughts knew she was kind of an asshole. It really wasn't a big secret.

Both of my grandparents were very politically active during my childhood. If you want to know HOW politically active, I can tell you that I didn't understand for years that all kids didn't go hand out buttons at the polls. That was a thing back then. As people walked out you handed them a button, a nail file (no really), a hand fan, some sort of geegaw with your candidates name on it. I'm guessing, in reflection, that the adults knew who to give them to because it was a small town and you knew how people had voted because no one was shy about their political affiliation.

Being a Republican or Democrat weren't fighting words. Nor were they an indictment of your character. We didn't openly insult one another, scream obscenities or malign people based on whether or not they voted this way or that. We didn't feel a need to beat our chest about it either, other than a rather copious amount of yard signs and bumper stickers which my grandmother seemed to have quite the penchant for. Surely there were disagreements in policy, spending, taxes, etc. But the truth was that back then, how you voted was like where you went to church - everyone did it and nobody felt any need to fight about it.

The neighbors next door to my grandparents were democrats. Two doors down were Republicans. Across the street were CATHOLICS (can you believe it?). On the other side of them were PRESBYTERIANS. (I know - can you believe this diversity?) My point is, however, not once did I ever hear any of those people described that way. Never (Wait maybe the Damned Catholics though). We'd have huge block parties all together, and no one fought. No one argued or called names or lost their minds because someone was different than them. They talked sports, they talked local events, they talked families and music and movies.

They were friends.

A lot of my friends aren't voting the way I am going to vote this election. I don't really care. Some people are spending a lot of time and energy blasting their points of view on Facebook and other social media. My question would be this, why? You're voting for X? Cool. You enjoy that. I'm serious. ENJOY your vote. YOU get to vote. It's America. We get to VOTE here. 21 states in the Union don't use the popular vote to guide their electors so if you live in one of those states, your vote is just a PR move anyway - sorry. But it's a right and it's important.

But when you constantly blast negative words, hateful words, based on news reports that aren't real, based on sources that aren't verified or are being misquoted, I'm quietly just questioning why your'e behaving this way. You aren't swaying anyone. The people who agree with you, like those who thought my grandmother was completely ok with dropping the N word and hating Catholics, think you're great.

The rest of us kind of think you're an asshole.

I think the world could use more social graces. Your constant blathering and frothing at the mouth about this or that candidate doesn't further your cause or make you or your party look better - NONE of them. I can understand why statements by some candidates give you pause, or even cause you to feel some really negative things because some sort of insanely negative things have been said. Hateful things have been said. I understand being upset, on lots of different sides. What I can't understand is hateful bigotry, misogyny, and blindly accepting misinformation because it fits in with your preconceptions of X.

I'd love to know what music you're listening to, what books you have read, and what's bringing you joy. What are your kids doing and are you having a good hair day? I'll take a repost of silly memes any day over the faux-informed political ranting that seems to have taken over the world.

Frankly, I don't care for that.

Political Diversions

"A lady doesn't hate things, a lady says 'I don't care for that.'" is a quote that rings in my mind almost daily. It applies to a lot of situations, and the verbiage doesn't have to be exact. There are so many times I want to say FUCK THAT FUCKING SHIT but somehow manage to mumble a more socially acceptable "No, thank you." or possibly even a "None for me, thank you." These phrases cost me nothing, and they allow me to communicate in a civil fashion with people.

My grandmother was the stickler for that phrase. She'd drop the N word at her leisure, she'd whisper the word cancer and refer to all Catholics as "Damned Catholics". That same woman was a walking how-to manual of social graces. If she was a bad person behind closed doors, she knew how to behave as a human being and at least PRETEND to be well mannered and polite in front of others.

I'm not saying that it's great that she pretended to be a nice person. I'm pretty confident that the people who weren't in keeping with her thoughts knew she was kind of an asshole. It really wasn't a big secret.

Both of my grandparents were very politically active during my childhood. If you want to know HOW politically active, I can tell you that I didn't understand for years that all kids didn't go hand out buttons at the polls. That was a thing back then. As people walked out you handed them a button, a nail file (no really), a hand fan, some sort of geegaw with your candidates name on it. I'm guessing, in reflection, that the adults knew who to give them to because it was a small town and you knew how people had voted because no one was shy about their political affiliation.

Being a Republican or Democrat weren't fighting words. Nor were they an indictment of your character. We didn't openly insult one another, scream obscenities or malign people based on whether or not they voted this way or that. We didn't feel a need to beat our chest about it either, other than a rather copious amount of yard signs and bumper stickers which my grandmother seemed to have quite the penchant for. Surely there were disagreements in policy, spending, taxes, etc. But the truth was that back then, how you voted was like where you went to church - everyone did it and nobody felt any need to fight about it.

The neighbors next door to my grandparents were democrats. Two doors down were Republicans. Across the street were CATHOLICS (can you believe it?). On the other side of them were PRESBYTERIANS. (I know - can you believe this diversity?) My point is, however, not once did I ever hear any of those people described that way. Never (Wait maybe the Damned Catholics though). We'd have huge block parties all together, and no one fought. No one argued or called names or lost their minds because someone was different than them. They talked sports, they talked local events, they talked families and music and movies.

They were friends.

A lot of my friends aren't voting the way I am going to vote this election. I don't really care. Some people are spending a lot of time and energy blasting their points of view on Facebook and other social media. My question would be this, why? You're voting for X? Cool. You enjoy that. I'm serious. ENJOY your vote. YOU get to vote. It's America. We get to VOTE here. 21 states in the Union don't use the popular vote to guide their electors so if you live in one of those states, your vote is just a PR move anyway - sorry. But it's a right and it's important.

But when you constantly blast negative words, hateful words, based on news reports that aren't real, based on sources that aren't verified or are being misquoted, I'm quietly just questioning why your'e behaving this way. You aren't swaying anyone. The people who agree with you, like those who thought my grandmother was completely ok with dropping the N word and hating Catholics, think you're great.

The rest of us kind of think you're an asshole.

I think the world could use more social graces. Your constant blathering and frothing at the mouth about this or that candidate doesn't further your cause or make you or your party look better - NONE of them. I can understand why statements by some candidates give you pause, or even cause you to feel some really negative things because some sort of insanely negative things have been said. Hateful things have been said. I understand being upset, on lots of different sides. What I can't understand is hateful bigotry, misogyny, and blindly accepting misinformation because it fits in with your preconceptions of X.

I'd love to know what music you're listening to, what books you have read, and what's bringing you joy. What are your kids doing and are you having a good hair day? I'll take a repost of silly memes any day over the faux-informed political ranting that seems to have taken over the world.

Frankly, I don't care for that.

And We Had To See A Plantation

Our last day of vacation my family gave in to Mom and we did something girly, we went to a plantation. I picked this one out of the stack of brochures the front desk handed us on check in simply because it's been continuously functioning since the 1600s. I think that's fairly interesting. Plus - they shot part of North and South there and I'm old enough to have watched that mini-series with great enthusiasm back in the day.

A row of live oaks this spectacular needed a southern belle seated at it's entrance, so I grabbed the first one I could find. Seriously, no one should enter this lane other than horse drawn carriage, it's just spectacular.

We learned a lot while  we were there, such as this was the only two story gin house ever built, and that this plantation actually built very nice slave cabins - out of brick, however let's don't forget that they are still slave cabins so "nice slave cabins" is the worst sort of oxymoron. Also the owner had a brick making factory so it's not like he was OUT anything but building from brick. I appreciated that our guide made a firm point of telling the visitors that these all originally had dirt floors and these wooden floors and steps were built for tourists - I think it's valuable for people to understand things like that. 

The house has changed hand many times over the years, and this is like the third or fourth actual house on the property. I'd really like to SEE the others, I wish there were paintings or photos of any of them.

The gardens out front were pretty but I wasn't wowed by them. There were some really nice roses however, and now I'm wishing I didn't hate gardening so much because I'd love to have a nicer flower bed out front. I know exactly what I want but man, ugh, outside? Digging? I don't know if I'm that tough. Probably not.

Interesting Charleston fact I learned on our carriage tour, Charlestonians do not have a southern accent. I realized when our guide said it (Our guide was David Crosby I swear just ask my husband) that I hadn't HEARD a southern accent the whole time I was there. Apparently Charlestonians have more of the east coast accent like you'd hear up north. 

It was a beautiful and lazy southern day, therefore a perfect day to visit a plantation in my opinion. There was a lot of good history lessons being taught, we were lucky who to have tour guides and docents who weren't afraid of telling ugly historical truths which I totally respect and want. 

It's a good bargain too as EVERYTHING in the place is included so you don't have to pay for this and that and the other thing. The house, which I was MOST looking forward to, was sort of the most disappointing. It's a modern house, built in 1936, and the interior walls were taken from the OLD house so it's supposed to be an homage. The current family furnished it with period pieces from the 17th and 18th centuries but it's a mish mash. Also our docent said the library walls were aubergine and they were indigo so I subtract fifty points from her docent score. Maybe they were aubergine ONCE UPON A TIME.

I found a post card but the walls have clearly been painted since these photos were taken.

But just for my own ego, THIS IS AUBERGINE:

THIS IS INDIGO:

THE WALLS WERE INDIGO BLUE BECAUSE IT USED TO BE AN INDIGO PLANTATION! BAD DOCENT BAD BAD BAD. This is a guess by the way. But it makes more sense than saying that those walls were aubergine.

Even if the paint job was recent (and sloppy).

Ok but I really liked the place. The house tour was, meh, lovely. Here are three rooms, don't take any photos because some BS about it being a private residence still (a private residence you make me pay to come inside and you don't actually live in? Ok got it.)

It was quite gorgeous but kind of a let down especially since NOTHING was original in the house. But the rest of the place? It was really amazing and gorgeous.

Delicious ice cream was a perfect part of our day.

We didn't get to see everything because there were some dogs there, and we're still dealing with massive DOG FEAR and as we were about to drive home we just decided it wasn't worth it. We visited two of the slave cabins (each one had a lesson about slave life) and missed the Gullah performance which was a bummer. But all in all, it was a great stop.

Many hours, one storm and one Cracker Barrel dinner later we fell into bed about 1230 am, glad to have gone but so happy to be home. I slept like the dead, happily in my own bed and refused to wake at 7 am when Miles informed me it was "Time to get up now."

It was a great vacation.

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And We Had To See A Plantation

Our last day of vacation my family gave in to Mom and we did something girly, we went to a plantation. I picked this one out of the stack of brochures the front desk handed us on check in simply because it's been continuously functioning since the 1600s. I think that's fairly interesting. Plus - they shot part of North and South there and I'm old enough to have watched that mini-series with great enthusiasm back in the day.

A row of live oaks this spectacular needed a southern belle seated at it's entrance, so I grabbed the first one I could find. Seriously, no one should enter this lane other than horse drawn carriage, it's just spectacular.

We learned a lot while  we were there, such as this was the only two story gin house ever built, and that this plantation actually built very nice slave cabins - out of brick, however let's don't forget that they are still slave cabins so "nice slave cabins" is the worst sort of oxymoron. Also the owner had a brick making factory so it's not like he was OUT anything but building from brick. I appreciated that our guide made a firm point of telling the visitors that these all originally had dirt floors and these wooden floors and steps were built for tourists - I think it's valuable for people to understand things like that. 

The house has changed hand many times over the years, and this is like the third or fourth actual house on the property. I'd really like to SEE the others, I wish there were paintings or photos of any of them.

The gardens out front were pretty but I wasn't wowed by them. There were some really nice roses however, and now I'm wishing I didn't hate gardening so much because I'd love to have a nicer flower bed out front. I know exactly what I want but man, ugh, outside? Digging? I don't know if I'm that tough. Probably not.

Interesting Charleston fact I learned on our carriage tour, Charlestonians do not have a southern accent. I realized when our guide said it (Our guide was David Crosby I swear just ask my husband) that I hadn't HEARD a southern accent the whole time I was there. Apparently Charlestonians have more of the east coast accent like you'd hear up north. 

It was a beautiful and lazy southern day, therefore a perfect day to visit a plantation in my opinion. There was a lot of good history lessons being taught, we were lucky who to have tour guides and docents who weren't afraid of telling ugly historical truths which I totally respect and want. 

It's a good bargain too as EVERYTHING in the place is included so you don't have to pay for this and that and the other thing. The house, which I was MOST looking forward to, was sort of the most disappointing. It's a modern house, built in 1936, and the interior walls were taken from the OLD house so it's supposed to be an homage. The current family furnished it with period pieces from the 17th and 18th centuries but it's a mish mash. Also our docent said the library walls were aubergine and they were indigo so I subtract fifty points from her docent score. Maybe they were aubergine ONCE UPON A TIME.

I found a post card but the walls have clearly been painted since these photos were taken.

But just for my own ego, THIS IS AUBERGINE:

THIS IS INDIGO:

THE WALLS WERE INDIGO BLUE BECAUSE IT USED TO BE AN INDIGO PLANTATION! BAD DOCENT BAD BAD BAD. This is a guess by the way. But it makes more sense than saying that those walls were aubergine.

Even if the paint job was recent (and sloppy).

Ok but I really liked the place. The house tour was, meh, lovely. Here are three rooms, don't take any photos because some BS about it being a private residence still (a private residence you make me pay to come inside and you don't actually live in? Ok got it.)

It was quite gorgeous but kind of a let down especially since NOTHING was original in the house. But the rest of the place? It was really amazing and gorgeous.

Delicious ice cream was a perfect part of our day.

We didn't get to see everything because there were some dogs there, and we're still dealing with massive DOG FEAR and as we were about to drive home we just decided it wasn't worth it. We visited two of the slave cabins (each one had a lesson about slave life) and missed the Gullah performance which was a bummer. But all in all, it was a great stop.

Many hours, one storm and one Cracker Barrel dinner later we fell into bed about 1230 am, glad to have gone but so happy to be home. I slept like the dead, happily in my own bed and refused to wake at 7 am when Miles informed me it was "Time to get up now."

It was a great vacation.

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