The rubber boots are being brought back into the house after a long winter's absence.
.
.
Blither
Monday, April 21, 2014
Easter Beauty
This is a workplace where any abuse either verbally or physically will not be tolerated.
Anyone engaging in such activity will be asked to leave immediately.
This notice or one quite like it is posted on many places of businesses both in the public and private sectors.
The posting of this little notice is designed to ensure that all who enter will be treated with respect and safety.
Following a time spent listening to the ranting of a customer in a local Beauty Salon I suggest that these little posters also should contain a mention about the inappropriateness of the expression of racism and prejudice statements as well.
I think that it should be my right to be able to sit quietly discussing the happenings of the day with other customers in an environment free from racial slurs that are commonly hidden in what is often considered as the innocent reporting of gossip.
At my last visit to the beauty salon in a small town there was a customer commenting for all to hear about a group of people from a visible ethic background who drunkenly knocked on her farmhouse door late at night. The speaker did not limit her comments to just the description of what happened, but also commented loudly and to whoever was in listening range that she would never open her door again to this particular ethic group, although she would do so to Chinese, Filipinos, and Pakistani people. She proclaimed that her doors would always remain locked against the threat of such intruders ever again. She commented on the body type of the individuals at her door, their perceived drunkenness, as well as their accent, and suggested that they were 'eyeing' up her vehicle for future theft.
It was a disgusting display of racism and took all my will power not to comment. It is fortunate that there were not any young impressionable minds in the salon, although the positive comments she received from other customers were very revealing as well as disappointing to hear.
What was even more disturbing was the cheerful "Happy Easter!" that this woman proclaimed to the proprietor and went on about her sanctified business of the day thinking she had every right to assault whoever was in hearing range about the incident at her house on the weekend and thus, spread her accompanying hatred for a whole race once again.
The woman has every right to her opinion. She has every right to tell people about her unexpected company in the middle of the night. She does not have the right to slander all the people belonging to the ethic background of her late night visitors in a public place and that is why I think public places should have some sort of little sign that reflects that thought.
Prejudice mongering is every bit as detrimental to our society as is physical and verbal abuse,
and it is time small town culture starts to realize that fact.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Culture Shock
I recently attended a small rural community's Drama Production of Robin Hood. I have been a regular attendee of this community's annual live theatre presentation for about the last five years.
Many of the actors, stage hands, and directors are people I have known all my life. 90% of the audience are people whose families I have had the privilege to know ever since I can remember. The venue is a beloved building that holds many, many fond memories of Legion ceremonies, graduations, and weddings.
It is a place where I had come to again to feel safe and accepted, surrounded by people I understand and love, and with whom I share many of the same values and expectations of how life should be lived.
I believe the truth of the above paragraph is still valid.
However, I also believe that the people involved in this production of Robin Hood just simply do not know that one does not treat the people in the gay community in the manner in which they were portrayed. Gay stereotyping just should never ever be done anymore. I am referring to the limp wrists, flamboyant arm waving, hip swaying, and eye rolling flirty gestures that imitated a cat in heat that was done by the whiny voiced Will Scarlett in this presentation. Such a portrayal can only be based on outmoded and seriously dangerous beliefs of what is and what is not acceptable in a an informed and educated society. The acceptance of that type of humour has gone the way of wife beating jokes, along with Chinese laundry references, Blacks eating fried chicken and First Nation peoples wearing cheesy head dresses (As a University of Regina sports team has recently found much to its chagrin.)
Could it be possible that some of the people involved hadn't actually heard about all the hoopla that surrounded the Russian Olympics because of the way Gays and Lesbians are treated in that society?
To be fair to the audience in attendance, the presentation should have been billed for what it was-- adult entertainment containing sexual connotations, homophobic stereotyping, and masturbation simulation.
Dramatic productions have traditionally been an opportunity to address issues in society either through serious drama or through comedy. They can be an opportunity to spur reflection in the audience's conscience or expose truths or common beliefs .
My initial vision in my mind's eye when I think of this production? I see the Gay Will Scarlet pressing his hips into the buttocks of one of the guards of the Sheriff of Nottingham . Combine that image with Friar Tuck stroking his staff up and down...up and down and one begins to get the idea of the type of activity that was staged under the guise of entertainment.
The whole remembrance of the production is tainted with the type of cheap sexual gestures that is usually only associated with people who have no understanding of the issues our society faces in regards to bullying that is based on sexual orientation.
A short course on Copyright Law might also be in order.
Many of the actors, stage hands, and directors are people I have known all my life. 90% of the audience are people whose families I have had the privilege to know ever since I can remember. The venue is a beloved building that holds many, many fond memories of Legion ceremonies, graduations, and weddings.
It is a place where I had come to again to feel safe and accepted, surrounded by people I understand and love, and with whom I share many of the same values and expectations of how life should be lived.
I believe the truth of the above paragraph is still valid.
However, I also believe that the people involved in this production of Robin Hood just simply do not know that one does not treat the people in the gay community in the manner in which they were portrayed. Gay stereotyping just should never ever be done anymore. I am referring to the limp wrists, flamboyant arm waving, hip swaying, and eye rolling flirty gestures that imitated a cat in heat that was done by the whiny voiced Will Scarlett in this presentation. Such a portrayal can only be based on outmoded and seriously dangerous beliefs of what is and what is not acceptable in a an informed and educated society. The acceptance of that type of humour has gone the way of wife beating jokes, along with Chinese laundry references, Blacks eating fried chicken and First Nation peoples wearing cheesy head dresses (As a University of Regina sports team has recently found much to its chagrin.)
Could it be possible that some of the people involved hadn't actually heard about all the hoopla that surrounded the Russian Olympics because of the way Gays and Lesbians are treated in that society?
To be fair to the audience in attendance, the presentation should have been billed for what it was-- adult entertainment containing sexual connotations, homophobic stereotyping, and masturbation simulation.
Dramatic productions have traditionally been an opportunity to address issues in society either through serious drama or through comedy. They can be an opportunity to spur reflection in the audience's conscience or expose truths or common beliefs .
My initial vision in my mind's eye when I think of this production? I see the Gay Will Scarlet pressing his hips into the buttocks of one of the guards of the Sheriff of Nottingham . Combine that image with Friar Tuck stroking his staff up and down...up and down and one begins to get the idea of the type of activity that was staged under the guise of entertainment.
The whole remembrance of the production is tainted with the type of cheap sexual gestures that is usually only associated with people who have no understanding of the issues our society faces in regards to bullying that is based on sexual orientation.
The most disappointing part of the whole evening was not just the ruination of what basically is thought to be a children's story (and indeed the original script is meant to be just that), but the fact that so many intelligent and creative people involved in the production thought that to present the play in the manner in which it was would be a good example of what this community deems to be clever and socially acceptable.
Maybe someday when this community knows better it will do better. The University of Regina women's basketball team had to attend a few sessions of Cultural Sensitivity after their Cowboy and Indian cheerleader costume fiasco. Perhaps the organizers and participants of this year's Culture Shock presentation should attend something of the same with regards to homosexuality.
A short course on Copyright Law might also be in order.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Elder Abused
While lying in bed the other night it occurred to me that getting older is getting less and less fun and more and more of a chore.
I commented on this to my husband who was lying next to me quietly reading his latest novel which was neatly propped up on a cushion on his chest...his layered clip on reading glasses sitting on his nose ...his head lying at a 45degree angle to the pillow displaying a profile I have etched in my memory as a result of over 30 years of married life. This profile serves to convince me that when one is doing something one loves then one becomes at least 75% even more attractive to others.
After hearing my mumbling complaint about age he absent mindedly asked, "How so? " --eyes never leaving the page.
As I put down my own 800 page novel and removed my Drug Store Reading glasses and rubbed my aching wrist that had tired from holding such a book, I reminded him that the mere fact that we were both in bed reading at 8:45 in the evening was an example of the limited fun to be had at our age.
I continued on by describing the betrayal I felt by my own body.
I pointed out that even on a Saturday night I could no longer half attempt to get even a little buzz on anymore , not because I couldn't afford the booze or hadn't the time, it was merely because I couldn't stay up late enough for the alcohol to kick in.
I reminded him that even eating had become a challenge as unless I only eat porridge or dry white bread I am prone to acid reflux and heartburn. Anything I do eat anymore just seems to turn to fat and even if I just eat veggies and fruits and do lose weight my face and arms have the look of a deflated balloon.. soft, wrinkly, and Hallowe'enish.
I went on to say that the real kicker is that my shoulders hurt me if I sleep on my side, my heartburn gets me if I lie on my back, and if I do sleep more than 3 good hours, I wake up having to use the washroom ASAP and my poor knee then aches all the worse because it has been lying still for so long.
I also pointed out that to add insult to injury, I keep thinking I am 65 instead of 61. What the reason that would be is anyone's guess except the obvious slow progressive onset of a type of dementia.
At the end of this almost weepy tirade, the reader beside me stirred, turned his head a shade in my direction and simply said, "It's not so bad. You are still doing pretty good."
Mollified only slightly, I turned over , switched off the bed light , squeeched down under the covers for a bit of a cuddle and promptly and without warning...
.....farted.
I commented on this to my husband who was lying next to me quietly reading his latest novel which was neatly propped up on a cushion on his chest...his layered clip on reading glasses sitting on his nose ...his head lying at a 45degree angle to the pillow displaying a profile I have etched in my memory as a result of over 30 years of married life. This profile serves to convince me that when one is doing something one loves then one becomes at least 75% even more attractive to others.
After hearing my mumbling complaint about age he absent mindedly asked, "How so? " --eyes never leaving the page.
As I put down my own 800 page novel and removed my Drug Store Reading glasses and rubbed my aching wrist that had tired from holding such a book, I reminded him that the mere fact that we were both in bed reading at 8:45 in the evening was an example of the limited fun to be had at our age.
I continued on by describing the betrayal I felt by my own body.
I pointed out that even on a Saturday night I could no longer half attempt to get even a little buzz on anymore , not because I couldn't afford the booze or hadn't the time, it was merely because I couldn't stay up late enough for the alcohol to kick in.
I reminded him that even eating had become a challenge as unless I only eat porridge or dry white bread I am prone to acid reflux and heartburn. Anything I do eat anymore just seems to turn to fat and even if I just eat veggies and fruits and do lose weight my face and arms have the look of a deflated balloon.. soft, wrinkly, and Hallowe'enish.
I went on to say that the real kicker is that my shoulders hurt me if I sleep on my side, my heartburn gets me if I lie on my back, and if I do sleep more than 3 good hours, I wake up having to use the washroom ASAP and my poor knee then aches all the worse because it has been lying still for so long.
I also pointed out that to add insult to injury, I keep thinking I am 65 instead of 61. What the reason that would be is anyone's guess except the obvious slow progressive onset of a type of dementia.
At the end of this almost weepy tirade, the reader beside me stirred, turned his head a shade in my direction and simply said, "It's not so bad. You are still doing pretty good."
Mollified only slightly, I turned over , switched off the bed light , squeeched down under the covers for a bit of a cuddle and promptly and without warning...
.....farted.
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