Be Curious, Part II

This post continues my thoughts on the quote from “Ted Lasso” who said “be curious, not judgemental”.

Some time ago I learned that the psychotic magic of any supervisor or manager is the ability to take the attitude and issues of the workers in stride and gather them towards getting a task done. I’ve worked with some interesting people; rapists, drug dealers, people who were mentally disturbed, folks who used drugs and alcohol, the violent and even just the stubborn and immature.

Each of these men and women brought their own magic along with their own baggage, and I have been routinely blessed and amazed with what they can do. When working with rough people – those who rose above were a joy, others ultimately did not fit the organization, some went to jail, a few actually died.

But, this year, wow – it has really pushed me to lengths and depths I’d hoped never to see, and that has taken its toll on me. I’ve experienced depression, anger, and pain that required me to see a very unaffordable doctor – but not before I finally lost my temper. In that moment, the fear of the shop failing, the anger of the current political environment, the depression and the debilitating pain came together to have me behaving in an unprofessional, if verbally artistic and vulgar, manner.

Others who have been subject to this person’s ways were very understanding, two were quite giggly about it and no one was critical of me for my lost temper. Quite frankly, the guy is a prototypical engineer: thinks he’s smarter than everyone. But he’s also taking care of a recently disabled wife, is in financial hardship, frustrated that he’s tied the end of his career to this business. Once you get beyond his insecurities, he’s fairly funny, has had a lot of interesting experiences, and is surprisingly smart.

I knew I was wrong; took a short cut to feel self-righteous. Yet somehow I became a part of a group because I lost my temper and did something stupid. I responded unprofessionally because I was hurting, I was angry, I felt abused and disrespected. I responded unprofessionally not because of what he said that time, any time, but because of my own inability to deal constructively with my problems, and the task did not get completed.

That person is outside of my authority. And yes, the ceo should have put better controls on him so he wouldn’t abuse his people. But, it got me thinking. The aftermath of this had me curious about group mentality, shared grievances, and how maga people are acting.

Right or wrong, they feel they have grievances. They feel angry, abused, disrespected. I find it very interesting that they have chosen to latch on to the first charismatic fool that blasts out their pain for them to the point that they refuse to recognize this foundering wreck for what he is! Maga’ts follow his words like mana, respond violently when countered, and all for a person who doesn’t share their goals or their reality. In short, their pain and emotional turmoil has caused them to lose their curiosity.

Now there is fair evidence to say that magats have not been abused and disrespected, to which I would argue that they have. These folks have taken the words of faux news and those such to heart; they have had their fears stoked, they are defensive and angry because they confuse their fears and angers for a reality that doesn’t bear investigation.

So disillusioned and angry with reality in the scope of the manipulation their preferred information sources provide that they sometimes aggressively believe everyone is a liar except, ironically, those lying to them. Worse, they misconstrue opinion bias for research, and really don’t appreciate being told that.

So, some of you who have weathered this are screaming in your head “who cares!” – and some of you have actually screamed this out-loud. This is not our fault, I can hear you say – but it is our problem. As any of us who have tried to reach these folks can attest, seeking to change their outlook, to get them to consider things differently, to listen to f’ing reason! is incredibly difficult.

And, somehow, 70million of these fools voted in the last election. 70million defensive, angry, uninformed and misinformed people who can’t listen to anyone not associated with tRump are voting on our future. They think we are wimps, naive snowflakes because a 30-second news-cycle bombastically bullshitted them, and they liked it.

I find that very curious and extremely frightening, and I have no idea what to do about it.

Part III coming soon to a Scottie’s Blogs near you. 🙂

Hugs.

Randy.

What the GOP is Lying About

If you listen to the GOP, they will tell you this shutdown is the fault of the Dems. In a sense, they are correct. The Dems aren’t allowing the budget to go forward without ACA Healthcare Subsidies. They tell us that they will be more than happy to discuss the topic once the budget is signed. This is analogous to “…the beatings will continue until morale improves…”, and asks the Dems to give up the only tool they have to stop the gop’s continuing efforts to destroy the ACA and have the suffering of millions of people who don’t get their healthcare insurance from their employers or their personal wealth. The goopy is lying to us all, again, still, and the damn fools who routinely vote against their own personal interests believe them. Again. Still.

Simply said: The goopy ones have believed the lies because it is more important to them to believe the lies than to put out the effort to look further into the issues. They value the shared identity and emotional tickle of “getting the libs” over their own needs, their own health, and even the care of the community’s children.

Hugs.

Randy

Be Curious.

Like many, I remember when I realized that I found boys far more interesting than I did girls. I much preferred to be around them, was very curious about what they hid in their shorts, and knew very clearly that admitting to that would not be a safe thing to do.

As my friends began to find girls interesting I found fear and confusion instead. I found myself being left behind. I found the image in the mirror horrifying. And I found that the more I tried to avoid my problems, the more problems I had. And, I imagine now, as a late middle-aged man who grew up during the Reagan Aids fiasco, that many people of my generation found themselves in similar circumstances.

As time went, I was a decent student and received a fair education. I got a decent job and was a fair worker. I saved my money and did my best to treat people fairly. But, I was hiding who I was, only giving in to my desires occasionally and almost always very poorly. I was lost in my own camouflage, a victim of my own propaganda, and very much alone.

When I consider the affronts people endure to be themselves, I always wonder what those who abuse them would prefer? Would they prefer a person transitioning to match their outside with their inside identity to live a false life, to have to hide who they are, to be miserable? Are they so unwilling to view the sometimes lumpy way life comes about that they believe it acceptable to torture others?

When I was young I very much enjoyed watching the unusual characters on tv. Quirky people who didn’t quite fit society but were so very unapologetically genuine and fascinating and fun were far more interesting to me than the Ward Cleaver’s of the world. But I wasn’t that brave. I feared the “real Randy”.

Now I watch the judgmental speak on those who would risk being genuine in a cruel world, and it saddens me.

It seriously saddens me that we have these maga people thinking that people like my nephew who is openly gay are sick. These maga people don’t want liberty they want closets again, people afraid to be themselves, to be happy and to be free. It saddens me that seeing someone not fully conformed to the current image of masculinity or femininity somehow threatens them, makes them afraid, brings about spite and hatred. And worse, we have a government that clamors about the word “freedom” yet supports and shields those who would deny it to fellow Americans.

I watched a few Ted Lasso episodes and heard him speak that quote about “Be Curious, Not Judgmental”. I was fascinated by the simplicity – and devastated to realize the idea wasn’t new. The irony is that in the land of the free we only succeed by being confined to an approved image. And so, I find myself mystified and even a bit lost as I see the brave ones being true. I know I won’t ever really understand what they are feeling and thinking, but I am fascinated.

It is my sincere hope that I can go forward with the courage and compassion to be curious.

Thanks and Hugs.

randy

ps: I always thought Ward Cleaver must be gay because he really had some board feet shoved up his ass. just my humble opinion.

Titled: Come Clean Epstein

tRump in a Nut Shell

The Paper Mask

I will never see a Robin Williams movie, an interview, or a stand-up without a tear in my eye. He made me laugh, he made me cry, he made me feel anger and he made me feel hope, all behind a mask paper-thin. He reveled in the joy of others, while in his heart he felt so alone. How few knew his hidden hurts? I feel the absence of this great man and am saddened that his joie de vivre was only a mask he used to protect us all.

My morning trek to the daily grind found me hearing about Charlie Kirk. I thought about the demands he made upon his audience; that they think his way, act his way, love his way, pray his way. Somehow those who think differently are more than a target for his former speeches, we have become enemies of our own government.

Again, I don’t want to see anyone hurt. But, what about those he made to feel alone?

What about those he made to feel hated? What about those he told ‘You don’t matter’? What about those he accused of horrible motives, intentions to commit crimes, just because they were different?

Why is crass, abusive, hateful, prejudiced, and violent words and actions acceptable to anyone? Why is it cheered in certain circles?

I have every right to be angry at those who sling abuse for political expediency. I have every right to be angry at those who whip the easily led mob into denying others their rights to be genuine, their hopes to feel love, their need for happiness. I’m so tired, so very tired of the justification, the hypocrisy, the gleeful ruination.

I so miss the promise of the 70’s. Change was supposed to come. I bought into the hype, only to see that the very fight continue. Maybe it’s not the era, maybe it’s just something in us that makes people keep doing this to each-other. I want to believe differently.

I dedicate this to my beautiful brother.

Randy

Things I don’t tell Mom

There was a time, long ago before my eyes starting going bad and when foolishness was that bit of mischief all of us get into whether someone is there to see it or not, and that our parents secretly laugh about because it was the same stuff they did.

I was Bat Masterson, Billy the Kid or Wyatt Earp with my bb-gun. No, I didn’t have a Red Rider, I had a Crossman! And, I was a wiz, the terror of chipmunks everywhere. And, of course, me and my friend Benny had bb-gun fights, but we had a rule: no shooting in the face.

Some of you who have read my past writings are not surprised by this, but some of you may for the first time realize that yes, the boy is that dumb. And you have also recognized that this is, yes, another post on the demise of Charlie Kirk by someone who mistakenly believed a gun would solve his problems.

As I grew older I advanced my gun ownership advanced to a Marlin 22, then later to an older 30-06. I liked guns – until one day I realized that gun could solve all my problems, all my days of hatred, loneliness, my want to be different than what I was. One simple pull of one simple finger…

Dad talks of a time when he was in school and was part of an after-school gun club. He would get on the school bus with his gun and take it to school for his after hours activities. I remember when I took my hunter safety courses as a kid. Guns then were a tool; it was how we went hunting, sport targets, and in extreme moments perhaps, personal safety. Somehow they have gone beyond this. Now there are magazines by the truck-load telling us how we need a personal protection weapon as they peddle fear. Our politicians aren’t talking about how we need to deal with the issues that people think they need a gun to help them, but how they have the right to guns and how great and cool guns are.

I guess I’m a horrible person, because I just couldn’t really care less that Kirk is gone. He wasn’t an innocent by any stretch of the word. He advocated hate, he advocated second-class citizenry for those he didn’t like, he advocated for the right of the government to limit the rights of others that he didn’t like, and he even advocated for the loss of life so the importance of keeping his gun rights could be underscored. He advocated for the very scenerio that took his life, in a crushing bit of sad irony.

Who I do care about are those small children in that Catholic School who were shot while praying. No one flew them home on Air Force 2. I didn’t see Cenk Uygur crying for them! I didn’t the sitting republican party politicians calling out in outrage. I didn’t see fucking drumpf demanding retribution for the victims of the Colorado High School that happened that very same day! Somehow seeing one of their own shot was a bridge too far and little innocent children was not. And now, seeing that the shooter was a cis white male maga son of a cop, there went their favorite scape-goat that he was a plant of the Democrats.

But, evidently the nra checks cleared because I’m not seeing any hopeful measures to limit guns to ANYONE! Oh, let me take that back – drumpf wants to limit guns to the Trans community. Haven’t heard from the nra about the atrocity of such a statement yet…?

I once asked myself just what it would take before our children and young people became more important than our guns. I wondered what would it finally be to get people to demand that there be no more. Then I realized that the fear, the anger, the hatred that has been generated has just made us all tense and numb to it all; we are forlorn to the realization that it will never change because those in power are all too willing to sacrifice everything we care deeply about and even one of their corrupt mouthpieces to the money and power that death brings them.

Are My Words Even Necessary?

My Last Days in Reality

I’m not sure how to begin this tale. It seems like a fruitless endeavor, a constant push that yields little result but loss. I’ve watched the company I came to as an opportunity for a new start some five years ago slowly dwindle through decreasing ups and increasing downs to the point that I find myself frustrated with an inability to keep up with the disappointments.

These images I use are meant to be hyperbolic, nonetheless, they do well to express this lament, my own and others in this country, that I’m losing the fight.

The past weeks have seen our shop lose half of our workers due to layoffs, and more to leaving the fight to better opportunities elsewhere even as I am also dealing with reduced pay.

I thought I would learn so much at this job, and I have – though not quite the way I’d hoped, and not the things I’d hoped. And, now… Now I find that I am faced with a decision to fight the good fight and do what I can to save this floundering vessel, or am I committing slow suicide riding a sinking ship.

I am faced with the question of who is owed my loyalty? When the stone reaches the tipping point, do I push harder or do I get out of the impact zone? Our jobs are more than a way to put beans on the table; it is our identity, our productivity, our impetus to face the day and the very slings and arrows of life. I’ve sacrificed blood, sweat, tears, agility, health and a great deal of my sanity. Now I wonder if I’m too old, too broken down and jaded to begin anew.

These are the thoughts that have ravaged my spirit these past weeks. Some days reality sucks, the sky is dark and storms rage, but does that define my life or does it just describe my moment?

So, now, here I sit. A generally frugal nature and a number of blessings in my life has allowed me to realize some things: I’m not going to starve, I’m not going to be homeless, I’m just going to have a bit more time. The horror of being forced to deal with many of the things I just didn’t have the time or energy for earlier!!! So, no, I’m not worried for me. And, if I am so fortunate to ride out this storm I will be better for the opportunity to care for the things I’ve allowed to wallow in neglect. But, I very much do worry for those who will truly suffer under our Dear Leader.

-randy

Life Today

Hi Everyone. I’ve spoken with Scottie about this, but I don’t think I’ve brought it up here. These past couple of weeks have been very hard. My crew has been down to 32 hours since April, and now we’ve had to make the hard decision of lay-offs. I barely have enough work right now to keep half my people busy, and next month is looking like we will be lucky to pay the power bill much less payroll. My people are worried about their bills, putting food on the table, clothing their children for the school year. I gave money out of my wallet to one of our workers today because he couldn’t figure out how he was going go get his son home from spending time with the grandparents. That same employee is recently homeless, living out of a tent in a near by campground. But, thank God we made sure those billionaires got a tax break! Biden was such a horrible president, they say, yet everyone was working. I don’t understand their method of measurement.

Well, here are a few things…