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#also who among us would say anything but yes if dolly asked us this question
dufrau · 8 months
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The song is It's All Wrong But It's Alright by Dolly Parton and the lyric I like best is just this one little line:
Could I use you for a while?
It's a perfect line. No notes.
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tea-and-nuance · 2 years
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When I was younger we would regularly go to the local gay bar. It was the one place we could go dancing and not worry about being groped by men. We could openly talk about sex and sexuality and not be judged. It was a good time. And drag shows! I loved drag shows, it was always a fun, funny, sexy, satirical performance with great music. The queens put so much hard work into what their costumes and act. I loved drag queens, loved LGBT spaces, my baby bi self was so happy to be in the community.
When I became a mom, drag queen story hour was starting to become a thing. I was hesitant at first because I always considered drag to be a form of adult entertainment. But I was able to reconcile that it wasn't an issue. Costumes are fun, dressing however you want is fun, clownery and silliness is fun. It doesn't have to be sexual. Robin Williams as Mrs. Doubtfire is classic whatever.
The first story hour we went to the queen was dressed as Dolly Parton. She read a few books, was sweet and silly and great with the kids. It was pretty much what I expected and hoped for.
The next story hour we went to was completely different. This queen asked every kid if they were a boy or a girl or neither. It was a group of 5 year olds, half the kids said they were dinosaurs or superheros. Then there was dancing. Which wouldn't have been an issue, but we're not talking about silly music and me child appropriate dancing. We're talking hip thrusting everything but the pole sexualized performance. When she ripped off her skirt and revealed leotard bottoms with an outline of untucked genitalia - I left.
Over the years we began seeing video clips and news articles about drag story hours being cancelled and criticized for inappropriate behavior. Over and over the left insisted this shit wasn't happening. Or my favorite, even if it is happening it doesn't harm kids.
Every year when Pride comes around one of my friends inevitably asks if I'll be bringing my kiddo to celebrate. Every year I say no. "Oh but they have family friendly activities!" "Sure, but the leather daddies are matching at this time, you just showed me the lingerie and pasties you plan to wear. There's usually a lot of drinking. I don't feel comfortable bringing my kid."
Though my response is usually, actually, "we plan to get a babysitter so we don't have to worry about bringing kiddo." Because when I tell the truth I'm called phobic, exclusionary, denying my kid of important inclusive exposure - which as a bisexual parent is apparently hypocritical.
My kid knows LGBT people exists simply because there are LGBT people among our friends and family members. Age appropriate conversation comes up, "aunt L is married to aunt B, yes they're both women." "J was born a man but is actually a woman and is doing what she can to be recognized as her trueself." "Mom likes and has dated men and women."
As a bisexual polyam woman who is also part of the BDSM community I've often found myself more and more estranged from the communities I'm part of. If I question or bring up concerns about anything I get labeled as phobic, intolerant, and problematic. I have to toe the line when it comes to discussions about politics, parenting, spiritual beliefs, mental illness, women's rights, domestic violence. And it's kind of exhausting.
While the right will talk about the crazy things I see and hear on the left - I can only agree with right wing bs to a certain point. While I always thought I was pretty far left - there's a point where I'm thinking wtf can't you see how insane you sound? This is why the right hates us! While I try to sit middle ground and understand all sides the more I just hate and don't understand anyone.
Rambling rant over.
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mahalidael · 7 years
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Heart Attack #1: It’s Over, Romeo! I Have the High Ground
Content warning: Swearing, injury, brief mentions of sexual content.
What if you could share a body with your soulmate? Sounds like a fun story, but for Kanon and Stephanie, it's reality--a painfully awkward reality, especially because they hate each other and now they have to fight crime.
It all started when I broke Stephanie Lemaire’s wrist in study hall.
When I moved to Kansas, I noticed there were a lot of jocks, a lot of girls, and an overwhelming number of jock girls at my school. At the time, I had no idea why there were so many, I was just afraid to talk to them—and for some reason they liked congregating in Ms. Parker’s classroom.
Security during study hall was lax. A lot of people just wandered around in the hallway convening with friends. I think I was the only person who actually studied, no matter how much the flock of capes distracted me.
I don’t know exactly why they went to Ms. Parker’s room—maybe it was just convenient, but more likely is that people gravitated to Stephanie.
Stephanie had a surprising silhouette for a Kansas girl. She was about fifteen when I met her and her shoulders had already broadened out. She had firm features and a really butch way of dressing—I bet she would have looked like a football player if she cut her Dolly Parton curls, but she didn’t. She was also dumb as a box of hammers.
Never had one girl been blamed for so much. Every time I heard something about her, it was an answer to a question. “Why doesn’t the cafeteria have barbecue sauce packets any more?” “Stephanie was hoarding them.” “Why can’t we use duct tape on school grounds?” “Stephanie taped some kid to the closet door.”
I didn’t actually talk to her that much. Sometimes she would push me out of the way in the locker room, and for a while it was a game for the capes to bop all the short kids over the head in the hallway, but no real talking.
Usually when Stephanie’s meat ocean appeared, I was an easy target. I was fairly small, my hair was just coming in pink at the roots, and I only ever wore sweaters. On top of everything else, I’ve got a heart condition, and periodically turning purple if you over-exert yourself isn’t a recipe for popularity. So most of the time I’d get paper tossed at me, or somebody would make a Super Saiyan joke. Most of the time.
But a little more information, and keep in mind I didn’t know any of this shit at the time, but I heard all of this from Stephanie later on:
The high school capes aren’t an official club, because the school’s not allowed to sanction heroism, but they might as well be. They get together on Sunday afternoons and train their asses off preparing for the day that they too will get to fistfight a clown in a dark alley.
So that’s the set dressing. The conflict is the lacrosse team.
There are two kinds of jock in my high school: lacrosse jock and cape jock. The lacrosse team is mostly supers, so it’s only inevitable that they would feud, and today it had manifested in the form of an arm wrestling tournament in the middle of the room.
I didn’t hear the first part of the conversation, but apparently one of the greasier lacrosse players had challenged one of the capes and now it was just coming together. Winner of the last round got to pick the next challenger, and so it went.
These fights never last, and eventually it was less of a “what sports team is better” contest and more of a “supers are better than capes” contest. It was like Injustice: Gods Among Us but shittier.
I didn’t want to be pulled in, but it was one of those things that were so stupid you just couldn’t look away. The most surprising thing was that Stephanie won three rounds in a row, against three increasingly big lacrosse players. I knew that capes weren’t slouches, but holy shit.
It went downhill when they tied. “We need a tie-breaker,” greasy boy declared.
Stephanie was leaning back in her chair, sweating and red in the face. “I heard you the first time, asslamp; there’s no need to yell. Okay, are there any supers who haven’t gone?” She said, and then took a long drink of the bottle of Gatorade on her desk. I turned away and pretended to cough so it wouldn’t look like I was making eyes at her.
Of course, that act of repressed lesbianism was my undoing. As if cued, everyone simultaneously noticed me. Asslamp said: “Hey, nerd!”
“I—yes?” I sputtered.
“Are you a super?”
“Yes,” I said, before I could stop myself.
The capes erupted into laughter, and the supers groaned. I felt my face heat up. “I’m not gonna wrestle that,” Stephanie giggled.
And I thought “wow… now I’m obligated to kick her ass.”
I stood up, and I walked as confidently as I could towards an arm wrestling match with a girl twice my size, which wasn’t very. Honestly, I wouldn’t have passed a field sobriety test. I sat down and looked her dead in the eye. Everyone else was whooping like idiots.
She put her elbow on the table. “You ready to lose?”
I laughed nervously as I did the same. “No.”
“Wrong hand, short-ass.”
“I’m left-handed, is that a problem?”
Stephanie shrugged and put her left hand in mine. “Only if you make it a problem.”
Asslamp refereed. “Are you ready? On your marks…”
Everyone in the room was yelling now.
“Get set…”
I squeezed her hand a little harder.
“Go!”
…I wish I had something interesting to say about the ten seconds or so that I actually arm wrestled Stephanie, but really I was just internally screaming. Mostly because I was wilting quickly, and my arm was almost touching the desk, but also because I could not stop pumping myself up to kick her ass.
After all, how could I her beat me? She was so stupid, so arrogant, so blonde, so fucking cu—
And that’s when her arm hit the desk, hard. I could have sworn I heard a snapping sound, but it was lost in the sound of the supers cheering like wild animals. Eventually it subsided when people started noticing that Stephanie was both holding her arm to her chest and screaming bloody murder at me.
“What the fuck did you do to my wrist?!” Sure enough, it was bent strangely, in a way that wasn’t present before we arm wrestled.
Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck. “I’m sorry! It was an accident!”
The apology didn’t stop Stephanie from grabbing me by my sweater. “Son of a bitch, dude, fucking warn me! You know how much trouble we’re gonna get in now? If I get suspended one more time, I’m fucked!”
...Is what I think she said. Her voice sounded really far away for some reason, and all I could hear was a loud electric whine.
And then I apologized, and I apologized, and I said “I didn’t know I could do that,” and then I woke up in the hospital.
Smooth.
I got off easy with the school due to the medical scare. Apparently Stephanie’s parents didn’t sue because this kind of thing happens a lot, and it was a minor fracture. The doctor still made her wear a cast, though, which she made a point of flipping me off with a couple of times.
More confusing was where that sudden burst of strength had come from, and how quickly it had left. Best I could figure was that it was triggered by high stress, but trying to replicate the scenario produced nothing.
Maybe an outside factor had set it off, but aside from the actual arm wrestling, there didn’t seem to be anything unusual…
And then I had that thought that only teenagers and fraternity brothers can have:
Was I—was I being too gay?
I figured, no… it couldn’t be that. I mean, I’d accidentally jacked it to the thought of my first grade teacher once, but that didn’t cause any super-powered fireworks. Besides, whatever creamy feelings I might have had for Stephanie were killed after she made a habit of chucking orange juice cartons at me at lunch.
But I couldn’t be sure—until a few months later, on a biology field trip.
When field trip buddies were announced, we didn’t say anything on the bus, we didn’t say anything in the field trip line, and we didn’t say anything until halfway through the day when our group stopped for lunch. We were required to remain within twenty feet of each other, but otherwise we were completely ignoring each other.
I was like, holding a thing of yogurt, and then Stephanie sat down next to me, and she fished a bag of protein powder (?) out of her varsity jacket, and absolutely nothing else. She swallowed down the whole packet, then walked off towards the bathroom like it was nobody’s business.
Now, my dumb ass was still in that good Asian schoolgirl mentality, and field trip buddy rules said that Stephanie walking to the bathroom was absolutely my business. I jettisoned my yogurt and took off after her.
To give you an idea of what happened: the Kansas City aquarium has a cafeteria. Off that cafeteria, there’s a straight, darkened hallway. At the start of that hallway, there’s a ladies’ room—a ladies’ room that Stephanie was now breezing past, into the shadows.
You what fucking sucks about tall people? They can just strut off wherever they want, and us normal-sized people have to run behind them like idiots.
“Hey, wait!” I shouted as quietly as I could, to avoid getting myself in trouble.
By some miracle, Stephanie didn’t ignore me, but instead turned on her heel and faced me in the darkness, features set. “What?”
“Um…” She glared down at me. “Did you, like, forget your lunch, or…”
“That was my lunch,” she said in the same tone you would say something like “this town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”
“Oh.” Stephanie’s glare was sharp enough to cut glass. “I can buy you a banana or—”
She thrust her right hand towards me, as if asking for a handshake. I blinked. “Go on,” she said.
I carefully shook her hand, not sure what she wanted. She brought her left to her face in a gesture of frustration. “Don’t be stupid!”
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know what you want.”
Stephanie huffed. “If you wanna break my other wrist so bad, you might as well do it!”
Aw, man, this again. “I’m not here to break your wrist, I’m here because you’re wandering off into the unknown!”
She leaned into the wall, crossing her arms and looking at me like I was the densest girl she’d ever met. There was no light in the hallway, and the light of the cafeteria was very soft on her face. “It’s not ‘the unknown’ if I know what’s at the end of it. The tour isn’t going through this wing, but it’s still open.”
“Then dick around on your own time! We’re gonna get in trouble again.”
Stephanie puffed her chest out indignantly and planted her feet. “Okay. Go on. Go ahead and stop me.”
I took her hand and pulled hard as I could. Stephanie smiled, barely swaying. I went around to her side and tried pushing her back towards the cafeteria, leaning my whole weight into it, but she didn’t budge at all. All I accomplished was making myself aware that I was half her size.
“Where’d that arm wrestling strength go?” she said when I had finally given up, wheezing a little bit. I hoped I wouldn’t pass out again.
“Shut up.”
“We’ve got twenty minutes. You can’t stop me, so either you go back and get in trouble, or you see something cool and get in trouble. I mean, you’re screwed no matter what happens.”
I weighed my options. Maybe it was the super curiosity in me, but I really wanted to see what was at the end of that dark hallway. And Stephanie was dumb, but she was right. My biology teacher hated me, and if I went back and told her I would still get in trouble.
I took a deep breath. “Five minutes, then we’re gonna try slipping back into the cafeteria.”
“What makes you think you can drive a bargain with me?”
“If I remember anything from that time I broke your wrist, it’s that you care about getting in trouble.”
Stephanie’s expression seemed to do a little dance of panic and anger before getting schooled. “Whatever. Five minutes is good. Come on, follow me.”
She kept a firm hand on my shoulder, and her face was still very neutral, but she held onto me like she was scared I was gonna run off or try to break her arm again.
As we walked down the hallway, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could see we were approaching a pair of doors at the end. They were painted black, and looking at them I thought it was a place that I wouldn’t be allowed to enter.
“There’s a reason,” Stephanie said when she reached the doors, “why this hallway is so dark, and it’s not because it’s closed.” She grinned at me. “You ready?”
“Ready enough.”
“Watch this.” She opened the door just a crack, and I saw a soft purple light in the darkness.
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epacer · 5 years
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Classmates
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Kathy Najimy, Class of 1975
Kathy Najimy on fighting for equality, “Hocus Pocus,” and performing with the American Pops Orchestra
Kathy Najimy enjoys playing games. Literally.
“For about three years, when I was living in San Diego,” she says of her early days trying to break into show business, “I paid the rent by going on Wheel of Fortune, Family Feud, and The $10,000 Pyramid.”
Years later, of course, Najimy, beloved for her roles as Sister Mary Patrick in Sister Act, part of a trio of witch siblings in Hocus Pocus, and as Peggy Hill in Mike Judge’s stunning, astonishingly heartfelt animated sitcom King of the Hill, appears on game shows as a celebrity star. Her favorite is Pyramid, which she calls “a brilliantly designed” game show, as winning it relies on talent. “There’s not a lot of luck,” she says. “It’s heaven for me. Any time that they call me up to go do the $100,000 Pyramid — especially because I get to be around the really, really cute Michael Strahan — I say ‘Yes!'”
If game shows are Najimy’s preferred form of celebrity leisure, then activism is her driving lifeforce. A card-carrying, outspoken feminist (she’s pals with Gloria Steinem, who officiated her marriage to musician Dan Finnerty in 1998), Najimy has been aligned with nearly every liberal rights organization in modern history, from PETA and Planned Parenthood to HRC and PFLAG. Her passion for what she feels is right and good and just flows naturally and abundantly from her, and she speaks of change and justice with a ferocious, emphatic charge.
“I have been a feminist since I was 14 years old,” she says over the course of two phone conversations. “And feminism dedicates itself to the equality and respect of all people.”
Najimy will appear as a special guest at this Saturday’s American Pops Orchestra concert, “I Am What I Am: The Music of Jerry Herman,” alongside Paige Davis of Trading Spaces, Broadway star Mauricio Martinez (see page 32), RuPaul’s Drag Race contender Alexis Michelle, Tracy Lynn Olivera, and Paul Roeckell, and was surprised when she got the call to appear.
“My agent got the request,” she says. “They said, ‘Does Kathy happen to be free on this weekend.’ And I was. And other than what’s going on there right now with the administration, I love Washington, D.C. I said, ‘Listen you guys, despite what you think from a couple of old movies that I used to do, where I kind of pretend comedy sing, I don’t really sing.’ And they said, ‘It’s okay, don’t worry. We’ll make it work.’ They were just so adorable and so persistent and convincing that I said sure. I think it will be really fun.”
“It’s so funny,” says APO’s founder and conductor, Luke Frazier. “She walked into the first rehearsal and said, ‘I’m not really a singer. I’m more of a talk-singer.’ We get done with rehearsal. I’m like, ‘No, Kathy. You can actually sing.’ She’s just very modest about it.”
Frazier has chosen a few special numbers for Najimy — among them one of Herman’s greatest chestnuts: “Hello, Dolly!” She’ll also sing “Bosom Buddies,” a raucous duet from Mame, with Davis and “The Man in the Moon” from the same show.
“So many of Jerry Herman’s female leads are truly larger than life,” says Frazier. “They all have an element of comedy, but there’s a lot of depth to them. Kathy has played so many roles where she shows off not only her comedic side, but as a person, there’s so much depth in the causes she cares about. Since she spends so much of her time on activism, it’s kind of that great duality. She brings so much to the roles.”
For her part, Najimy is thrilled to be a part of Saturday’s APO event. Each of APO’s shows are unique to their one evening, hand-crafted by Frazier to be eclectic, entertaining, musically invigorating, and fully adventurous. All the performers have a moment in the spotlight, culminating in a powerful all-hands-on-deck finale, and each APO show is calculated to evoke a wide range of emotional responses — from boisterous laughter to some serious heartstring-tugging.
“Every single APO show is original,” says Frazier. “We create them. They’ve never been done before. They’re never performed again. It’s one night. It’s a special event. That’s what makes us unique.”
Najimy, for her part, is up for the challenge. “I did a lot of musicals growing up — I did a lot in community theater,” she says. “I sung badly on purpose in Sister Act. And I sang backup for Bette in Hocus Pocus. But none of it was solo performer singing.”
Najimy, whose current projects include producing a documentary exploring why more than 50% of white women voted for Donald Trump, plans to incorporate some of her ideologies into the evening, but she won’t go into specifics. “I have about three songs,” she says, “and before each song, I’m going to talk a little bit about — not in a serious way — just where we are, that we’re in D.C., and how close we are to the haunted house. And also how much women have come forward and made strides in the [House] last year, which is really heartening.
“Of course,” she adds, “I would have liked for us to take the Senate as well.”
METRO WEEKLY: You are a well-known, amazing advocate for many issues, but specifically, with regard to the LGBTQ community, you took a stance for us as a celebrity long before many others. You were one of the first. And I think that’s remarkable. You didn’t have to do that. So the obvious question is, why?
KATHY NAJIMY: Well, I’ll tell you. I’m a feminist. And as a feminist, I believe in equal rights, equality, and justice for all people. So when there is a community of people who are being treated less than citizens because of who they love, that makes no sense to me. I believe everybody has the ability to love anybody. And I feel like there’s a spectrum between one and a hundred and we all fit somewhere there. Love is love, you know? And I believe that with all my heart. So I thought it was very unjust when I was a young activist in the ’70s and ’80s that anybody would be persecuted. That made no sense to me. I was happy to — and honored — to help any way that I could.
Also, in the ’80s, I was in college when the AIDS epidemic came to light. I’ve been sort of an ambassador for people with AIDS for many, many years. AIDS is the only disease where the people who have it are persecuted. If you have any other major disease, you’re surrounded by love and doctors wanting to help. People with AIDS not only had found themselves with a life-threatening disease, but also with no support. And that broke my heart.
MW: It’s different now, though.
NAJIMY: Different, yes. But when we needed it not to be different, it wasn’t. I mean, there’s a lot of people living healthy lives with HIV/AIDS now, thank goodness, but we lost way too many for no reason other than homophobia and hate.
MW: Did you at all worry at all about what your outspokenness, especially in the early years, might do to your career?
NAJIMY: Oh, it certainly has harmed my career, but I don’t care at all. I am an activist and human person first. Business is not everything, it’s not my life. There were certainly people — agents and such — who said if you speak out about this, then these people won’t cast you. And I said I respect their choice not to cast me. That is their choice and that’s fine. I don’t wish to be cast by them. And I respect my choice to be an advocate and to speak out and do one of the things in my life that is most precious to me.
Certainly, there have been studios that have asked me not to talk about radical notions. It’s their right to ask me and my right to decide to. You should hear some of the requirements they make. But isn’t it great to be a troublemaker? [Laughs.] It’s so sexy! I love it.
MW: You’re definitely my kind of troublemaker. We live in a country founded on different points of view. Yet, I often find myself feeling the opposing point of view is wrong.
NAJIMY: Yeah, but I respect their right to say it. I fight for their right to say what I don’t believe in. I don’t fight for their right to legislate against human conditions and human choices. But freedom of speech is freedom of speech, and we all don’t have the same opinions.
MW: I look over your career and think how marvelous it’s been so far. One of my favorite shows you did was King of the Hill. Peggy Hill was just such a rich, full-bodied animated character, largely through your interpretation of her. The show poked fun at conservative values, but not in a mean way — it was more instructive. Mike Judge found a way to appeal to both liberals and conservatives and provide insights.
NAJIMY: I’ve got to tell you — I’ve been on a lot of jobs and my thirteen seasons on King of the Hill were among my favorite. It’s really hard to find integrity like that. Every single Monday on our doorstep came a script that was just so funny and so relevant and so brave. I loved the writing on King of the Hill. I also liked that it was very collaborative — we weren’t separate from the writers. We were all at the table read together. We all got to put in our point of view. It was very respectful of the actors and what we wanted to bring to the characters. There was no preciousness about anything. And, to tell the truth, the greatest part is that there was no hair, no makeup, no line memorizing, no 6 a.m. calls. No wardrobe fittings. You just showed up for a couple of hours and recorded. It’s something I’m so proud of — I love King of the Hill. Every moment of it was just a joy and I’m a complainer, so there you go.
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Najimy
MW: One of your biggest hits was Hocus Pocus, which just celebrated its 25th Anniversary. Disney made a big deal about it. Can you briefly talk about your experience making it?
NAJIMY: I’ve made 30 films, and you never know which ones are going to stick, which ones are going to become really popular. You just sort of make them. So the experience of it was only very singular to me because I had been a huge fan — like a crazy sycophant fan — of Bette Midler’s growing up.
I had all of her posters. I had all of her records. I had several incidents where I would run backstage at the Hollywood Bowl with guards running after me, and opening all the rooms until I found her in the room. I had one where I found where she lived in New York, when I visited New York in the ’70s, and left a message with her housekeeper. I even had one where I sang to her.
MW: That’s something.
NAJIMY: Well, I worked for a singing telegram company in San Diego. So my boyfriend at the time, Greg Barnes, who is now a big fancy Broadway costume designer, had designed costumes for a junior theater’s Alice in Wonderland. He gave me the “I’m late, I’m late” bunny costume. We took the bus up the Hollywood Bowl where Bette was performing and I pretended to the officials that I had a singing telegram for her after the show. But it really was just from me.
So, I hopped backstage, and in all these pseudo-celebrities were in Bette’s room surrounding her. And I sang a song and handed her the telegram that said, “From Kathy.” And she said, “Kathy? Kathy who?” And I said, “I don’t know, but I love you, too!” And I hopped out and fainted.
So for all of those experiences, plus more that we can’t go into today, getting a call from Jeffrey Katzenberg, after I did Sister Act, who said, “I want to offer you a role in a movie called Hocus Pocus to play Bette Midler’s sister” — that was really a full fate turnaround. An interesting highlight of my life.
MW: Did you ever reveal to Bette that the singing bunny was you?
NAJIMY: I didn’t want to freak her out, so I would slowly let her know things. Like, “Oh, you wore those shoes in Chicago in March of ’78. No, no, you didn’t sing that at that concert. You sang this other song.” She would always sort of look at me side-eyed until one day I said, “Remember that girl who ran backstage and got pulled off by the guards?” And she said, “Yes.” I go, “And then, remember that bunny?” And she said, “Yes.” I said, “Well, I’m the bunny.”
MW: What did she say?
NAJIMY: I think it was just a very slow sort of like, “Oh God, I’m making a movie with a crazy person” into very good castmates and friends.
MW: What was it like working with her?
NAJIMY: It was great. She’s tough and she knows what she wants, and so am I, and there was a lot involved in Hocus Pocus. There was dancing and singing and children and animals, and I mean, it was just flying, it was a lot, but it didn’t do well the first weekend. It didn’t do well at all. It just took years and years, and slowly started building an audience, generation after generation.
MW: And now it’s a phenomenon.
NAJIMY: Who knew?
MW: I will often ask this question of straight actors we speak with: Do you remember the first time someone came out to you, and what was your response?
NAJIMY: You know, I think one reason that I am effortlessly an ally of the gay community, besides my political views, is that in community theater, you’re usually surrounded by a lot of gay men. Those were the guys I hung out with, those were my friends. So being a part of the gay community was seamless for me. All my friends came out to me. In fact, straight married men now will come out to me. I’m a gay magnet. People who want to be gay will come out to me.
Also, I have to say something about being straight-identified by being married — I do believe that there is a spectrum. A lot of people don’t agree, but I believe there’s a spectrum between one and a hundred. And I don’t believe anybody is anything. I believe we have the ability to love who we choose, when we choose, and how we choose. And so, I think sometimes, straight people have to act straighter than they are because they’re afraid of political homophobia. And gay people need to be really rooted in gayness because it’s been taken away for so long. When something is beyond your reach, and then it is in your reach, you really root down hard.
MW: It’s more relevant today with the current administration. It’s scary.
NAJIMY: I’m scared. I’m scared-scared. The loss of Democracy is earth-shattering.
MW: But what do we do? How do we wake up from this? I’m looking to you for all the answers.
NAJIMY: I’ll tell you exactly what I think we should do. I think the reason that Trump is the President — God, I’ve never said that sentence before, that’s eerie — I think that the reason he won is because the Democratic Party and the Liberals were split. And I think we lost a lot with the anti-Hillary people. I was a Hillary devotee — I was actually a speaker for her. I would go and speak where she couldn’t. That was such an honor.
But I feel like the split, which I think is because of misogyny, led to Donald Trump’s win. I think whoever wins the Democratic nomination, whoever it is, we must wholeheartedly rally around that person. We must forget our differences of who our favorites were, because now this is serious business. Donald Trump is President. We can’t pussyfoot around anymore. We can’t go, “Oh, I don’t like him or I don’t like her.” Too f-ing bad. We have Donald Trump. That’s our alternative.
I was at the Tribeca Film Festival’s events and someone asked who do you want and I went, “Whoever is going to be the candidate, that’s who I want.” And that’s who we all should want. We have to all want the same person — any sort of a compassionate thinking person. Or else we’ll have another four years of Trump. So, you know, I’m going to rally around 100 percent, heart and soul, with whomever wins the nomination.
Now, I know who I would like to be nominated, but if that doesn’t happen, I’m not going to split the vote. I’m not going to not vote. I’ll just support that person, because we don’t have a choice anymore. We’re losing our rights — women are losing their right to reproductive choice. There’s many states in the middle of the country where there are no reproductive rights now. It’s happening. It’s real.
MW: It’s horrible.
NAJIMY: Oh, it’s horrible racism. It’s horrible misogyny. It’s horrible homophobia. It’s horrible everything. It’s anti-woman, anti-gay, anti-any kind of a brain. It’s really bad. And lives are being lost and Trump is making decisions that will affect our children’s children. There won’t be a planet. So, whoever is the nominee, that’s who I’m going to wave my flag for. Anybody but him.
MW: Who would be on your dream ticket, though? We’ve got so many amazing choices out there now. It’s an amazing field in many respects.
NAJIMY: Who would I pick? Well, I want Hillary. But if I can’t have Hillary, I love Kamala Harris. But honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. Anybody but Trump.
God, it’s so hard, because I don’t know enough yet. Honestly, I’m not being coy because, obviously, I say what I think, but I haven’t quite heard enough to claim my stake yet. I would love for it to be a woman. It’s time for it to be a woman, but I want whoever will win.
MW: You’re currently producing a documentary about the 53% of white women who voted for Trump in 2016.
NAJIMY: I am. At the end of this month, we’re going to do our first three days [of shooting]. They’re the most important equation in the nightmare of the last two years. We can’t dismiss them — they’re either women who voted for Obama, or didn’t vote at all, who, in 2016, voted for Donald Trump. So we need to honor them and find out why and what, and understand it, so it doesn’t happen again.
MW: It is a very perplexing statistic. We’re all like, “How could any woman vote for him?”
NAJIMY: Every one of us producers [of the documentary] has a different theory. My theory is that it is because of self-misogyny. When you’re taught that you’re not worthy — that you’re not worth as much [as men] — it seeps into your great-grandmother, and then down to your grandmother, and less to your mother, and less to you, but it’s still there. And if you think you aren’t worth as much, you’re not going to vote for someone that you think isn’t worthy.
Other people think differently. Gloria [Steinem] thinks it’s because they vote the party line of their husband. I mean, we all have a different idea. The truth is that none of us can put words in their mouth. We need to really find out and ask them and understand, so that we can move past this crazy nightmare.
MW: I want to bring it back to activism. What is the importance of activism to you and why should we all remain vigilant?
NAJIMY: There have always been activists and nonactivists, but at this point, there really is no choice. We know that, every day, we’re waking up, and not only are opinions changing, but laws are changing — laws that govern us and our daughters and sons. If you have any interest in the future beyond a year from now, just with climate change….
I mean, I’m so inspired by today’s high school students. This one girl that had just gotten an award here in New York said, “I take every Friday off and go sit in front of the UN.” And they said, “Do your parents mind that you aren’t going to school that day?” And she said, “No, they understand. If I’m not an activist today, I won’t have a future.”
The kinds of adjustments that are being made that affect our whole lives are devastating changes. I understand that everybody’s different. I don’t require everybody to be the same, but what I do require is that you open the paper and look on the internet and turn on the news, and see how, every single day, this isn’t just happening. It was planned, and it is dangerous, and we are going to find ourselves in the same position as in The Handmaid’s Tale.
Things are going to change in a way that you can’t imagine, because we’re ignoring and saying, “Well, I’m not a political person,” or, “It doesn’t affect me,” or, “It’s too hard.” And I get that it’s too hard. It’s too hard for me. I get that it’s scary. It’s too scary for me. Nobody wants to do this. We all thought it would be Hillary, and we’d be swimming in a lake and having picnics. But it’s real and it affects everyone, you and your kids, your nieces, your nephews, and just the future in general, people you’re not even related to. It’s the future of humanity. Democracy is being systemically [dismantled]. All the bolts are being loosened, all of them.
We can’t be sure what they’re finding out about Donald Trump. We don’t know how he got to be president. I mean, how many presidents have had 17,000 investigations about them being crooked? I mean, there was Nixon, and a couple more, and certainly, first of all, I don’t care what presidents have affairs with who. That’s a personal choice between them and their wife or their husband. That is none of my business, and I don’t judge somebody on what they do in their personal life. I judge them on how they protect and rule our country and sisterhood and brotherhood with the world, and this administration, more than any other administration — and there’s been some pretty sad ones — is boasting about the illegal-ness of their affairs. I mean, you can’t not pay attention this time.
MW: I have to bring up one final thing before you go. You made a guest appearance at Mid-Atlantic Leather Weekend here in 2009. What do you remember about that experience?
NAJIMY: I remember that I was a little bit surprised about how very, very polite and well behaved every single person at that whole event was. I thought they were the sweetest, kindest, most considerate people. Not that I didn’t think they would be, but like it was very peaceful. It wasn’t very raucous, you know what I mean? Everyone was just really nice. The reason I was in D.C. was for the Obama Inauguration. And the excitement was in the air, you know? And then, of course, I went home with a couple of leather queens.
*Reposted interview article from the Metro Weekly by Randy Shulman on May 16, 2019
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wasps-ships · 6 years
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Dolly
Word Count: 1401
Ao3 Link: X
What’s this? A fic showing how crime dad became crime dad, it’s more likely then you think.
      I was five when mom moved us out of the Southern Water Tribe to the Republic City. We knew no one and had no family in the city. Mom was having trouble finding a job and we could barely make rent. Then I met him, Lighting Bolt Zolt, leader of The Triple Threat Triad.
     Standing on my tippy toes I peek into the window of a toy shop while mother talks with a man about food. In the shop I see it, a pretty doll dressed in blue, before I can even think of asking mom she calls for me, "Alexander, stop looking into the shops, you know we can't get you anything for there. We can barely make rent and eat."
     The last part was muttered to herself, as she pulls me along to another store we don't notice three men following behind us among the busy city life.
     "I don't want to eat food from here! It's always icky!"
     "Andy, dear please be quiet, it's only until I can find a good job."
     Grumbling to myself I stomp off to look at the other isles, there I nearly bump into a man. "Is that your mom kid?"
    Is the first thing he says to me, I nod backing away slightly, more than a little fearful of the strange man in front of me.
     "You want to make some money so you don't have to eat here, maybe even get that doll you were looking at?"
     I perk up at the mention of food not from here and the idea of a pretty doll. He notices, "I need someone to go tell a friend of mine a secret, if you can do that for me I'll give you some money. Is that something you can do? And remember this is a secret you can't tell anyone else about it, you can't even tell them about me, got it kid?"
     "I can do that." I mutter quietly, digging the toe of my shoe into the ground with arms behind my back.
     "Alright, that's a good kid, you see the man in this picture here? I need to you find him and tell him 'Zolt said to meet him at the Cat's Cradle' if you do that meet me here tomorrow and I'll pay you."
     Nodding, "I can do that," I mutter he smiles before leaving, I leave the isle to find my mom. After supper that night I tell her I'm going to play in the park down the street. I run around until I find the man in the picture, "Excuse me sir!"
     "What do you want kid?"
     "Zolt said to meet him at the Cat's Cradle."
     He simply nods.
     The next day when mom is at work I see the man again, he gives me a few bills and shows me who to talk to about getting jobs from now on. I don't see him personally again until I'm six as I walk across the street holding my mother's hand and carrying a pretty new doll.
     It turns out we are going to the same restaurant, "Andy I need you to wait here while I talk to a man about a job okay?"
     "Yes mama." I mutter, nodding my head.
     Looking around I take a seat at an empty table and wait for mom, a few moments pass before a man followed by Zolt walk up to the table. The man looks surprised to see me sitting there, "Excuse me dear, you can’t sit here."
     "Why not?" I ask, looking up at him. Before he can answer Zolt speaks, "It's fine, I'm sure the kid has his reasons for being here, don'tcha kid?"
     Nodding I turn to point to a room not far from us before speaking, "My ma is in that room over there, she told me to wait while she tries to get a job."
     "See," Zolt says looking at the man and gesturing to me, "the kid is just waiting for his ma, it's fine."
     The man stutters at this, "Um yes of course sir. Here are your menu. Would you like to order now?"
     "Give us a minute," Zolt says waving his hand in a dismissive manner, causing the man to leave as Zolt picks up a menu.
     "I remember you," I say looking at Zolt he just hums, smiling I lift my doll up so he can see it, "do you like my doll?"
     Zolt glances up and just chuckles before speaking, "yeah kid, she's very pretty."
     "Thank you, she is. I got her with the money from running around telling secrets."
     Kicking my legs I tilt my head before speaking again, "you never told me your name, mom says that's rude."
     He just laughs more, "they call me Lightning Bolt Zolt, what about you kid?"
     "Alexander "Andy" Savage-Castellanos."
     "That's a big name."
     "Well I have big feelings and need a name to show that."
     He finally puts down the menu and lets out a loud laugh at that, "you're a good kid," he says reaching over and ruffling my hair.
     "You said they call you Lightning, I don't like lightning it's scary."
     "You think so kid?"
     "Uh huh, I also don't like the thunder, it hurts my ears. Dolly doesn't like it either."
     "Who's Dolly?"
     I frown at such a silly question before raising my doll once again, "Dolly! Dolly Doll!"
     "You, you named your doll Dolly?"
     "Yes, Dolly Doll The Doll."
     "That's kind of a silly name, isn't it."
     "Zolt isn't even a word." I say, looking straight faced at him.
     "And how do you know that?"
     "Because I'm not dumb."
     "Are, are you calling me dumb."
     "No, that would be mean. But I am calling your name dumb."
     He scoffs at this before leaning back and letting out a laugh, but before he can say anything mom comes out from the backroom a look of shock fills her face at the sight of me with him.
     "Alexander! Get away from him!"
     "What? Ma-" She grabs me by the arm pulling me out the chair making me drop my doll in the  process of it as she tugs me to the door, frowning I turn to look at Zolt before waving my hand goodbye, he gives a smile in return and waves as well.
     Once we are out of the shop she kneels down so she's at my height, "Andy, you have to stay away from him, he's a very bad man okay?"
     Nodding I look at her, "Yes mama, I'm sorry."
     "It's okay just, just don't go near him okay? Lets go home."
     Maybe I was just a dumb kid, but I didn't listen to her, I didn't even tell her that he had given me a job in the past, despite the truth now that he was a "bad man" the very next day I told her I was going to the park with some other kids, really I was going to see a man about telling more "secrets" I was surprised to see Zolt himself there this time.
     I said nothing but padded up to him quietly. It's silent for a moment before I speak, "is it true that you are a bad man?"
     He kneels down to get eye level with me  before speaking "well, you see some of the things I do aren't really legal, do ya know what that means?"
     "That it's against the law and the cops will be mad at you?"
     Zolt just nods, "mom said I should stay away from you."
     "I'm not really surprised by that," he mutters rolling his eyes.
     "But you’re really nice and I don't want to, your my friend."
     He chuckles ruffling my hair, "here kid you dropped this yesterday," he says handing me Dolly, at the sight of her my eyes light up.
     "Dolly!"
     Laughing I throw my arms around his shoulders in a hug, "thank you!" He awkwardly pats my back before standing up, "I gotta go kid."
     "What! Where? Can I come?!"
     "Did ya forget what your ma told you already?"
     "No, but you’re my friend, and I know telling secrets for you is bad now but I came anyway. I told mom I would be the at the park today so I'm allowed out until supper time."
     He lets out a sigh before nodding, "alright kid, c'mon, you gotta behave got it?"
     "Yes sir!"
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the-record-columns · 8 years
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Feb. 22, 2017: Columns
…and the box it came in
By KEN WELBORN
Record Publisher
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about a road trip I took with my friend, Carl White, who, for the past six or seven years, has produced and hosted Life in the Carolinas, a syndicated television show.
During the trip we were searching for an item of TV trivia for Carl's friend Tom Isenhour of Salisbury who has been collecting for years. The premise being that if we found something he didn't have, that would in and of itself be unusual. Well, we found a child's Davy Crockett outfit that Tom did not have, he was well pleased, and Carl and I succeeded in our mission.
But, what Tom did have, was an original box for it, which he had bought some years earlier and put away for the day when he would find its contents. Which, of course, brings us to this week, and the promised follow-up about boxes.
Collecting things brings out all kinds of minutiae for folks who are trying to make a set of something. Stamp collecting is the best example. There must be a 25 different things that can change the value or the cataloging of any given stamp, from something as obvious as whether it is new of used, down to how many perforations it has on each side. Personally I am content to just have one to go in my album, because, as I like to say, it is just as much fun and takes about the same time to find the spot for a stamp worth a penny as it does for a rarity.
Boxes, however, are something I hadn't really thought about until after our trip to see Tom Isenhour's collection. Then I remembered that a few folks who visited the poor man's museum here at The Record's offices and have tried to buy a box which is full of old calendars and other miscellaneous items. Now understand, they didn't want what I had in the box, just the box itself, which reads on the side “Remington Standard Typewriter.” It is a wooden crate, not in very good shape, but it was pointed out to me that you can find an old typewriters at every antique store or flea market you go to, but the boxes just do not exist. The got thrown away, or used for kindling.
So I began looking around the shop and realized that I had managed to pick up several good boxes—all of which are empty—and are all harder to find than what came in them. Among them are a large Stetson hat box which was given to me by Sarah Payne Absher and her sister Betty Chloe, whose parents operated Payne Clothing in North Wilkesboro from forever till the early 1960s. I also have an old hat box from Spainhours, a retail fixture in Wilkes and surrounding counties for over 100 years, courtesy of Syd Spainhour, as well as a box for Her Majesty lingerie and sleepwear, also from Spainhours. I don't know where it came from, but I also found a Madame Alexander doll box for “Mary, Mary #451”, while empty, it is in good condition—perhaps Carl will read this and find me a Mary-Mary.
As I looked around, there are assorted wooden crates and boxes for everything from axe blades, to Winchester ammunition, Western's World Famous ammunition, Waters Extra Fine Sugar, Kraft cheese, Brunswick talking machines, and even a crate for Empire nuts, bolts and rivets from Port  Chester, New York. These, like the typewriter box, make excellent displays as well as conversation pieces.
I'll finish with small appliances, all of which have the item in question still inside. There are two electric irons; a Betty Crocker steam version as well as a Graybar quick heating iron. The Graybar iron's box had wooden wedges glued inside at one end to keep it from sliding around in the box. There is a Hamilton Beach juicer attachment for their Model H mixer and my personal favorite, a Presto Hot-Dogger—not just still in the box, but a never opened box at that. The only way you can get an idea about what it looks like is from the illustration on the cover.
No, it doesn't take too much to make me happy.
I now suppose that the collectors addendum to “Do you want fries with that?” will have to become, “Do you have the box it came in?”
“Nevertheless, she persisted…”
HEATHER DEAN Reporter/ Photo Journalist
           When I was about 7 years old, I remember playing in the yard at my grandmother’s house with my boy cousins, and one of their friends. So there we were, making believe, and I decided I was going to be the doctor. “You can’t be the doctor” my cousin’s friend said. “You’re a girl.” Neither I nor my boy cousins understood.  “She can be whatever she wants” my younger cousin said, and that was that.
         I did ask my mom about it later, because it never occurred to me that I “couldn’t” or that as a girl I was limited in any aspect. I was curious to know what “because you’re a girl” meant. The women in my family were strong, independent and secure in whom they were. It never occurred to me that my mother, her sisters, either of my grandmothers or any girl I knew for that matter, would ever be questioned in their endeavors. Especially either of my grandmothers- they were the first role models I had.
So when I asked my mom about the event she laughed and said that yes, some people felt it was a man’s world, but that with hard work and persistence, anyone could be anything they wanted to be. Take my mothers mother:
         My grandmother, Betty Jane, was the Matriarch, and clearly always the one in charge. She served as a 2nd Lieutenant in the US Army Nurse Corps during WWII. She was one of the first women in her unit to get a pilots license. The man behind the desk told her women didn’t need to learn to fly, that’s what the male pilot was for.  She persisted saying (and I quote) “I’m not going down in this plane and loosing my patients cause the pilot gets his ass shot. I will learn to fly.” Turns out, this is how my grandfather and grandmother met. He was in line behind her and saw the whole exchange, and promptly fell in love with the tenacious redhead. .She stayed in the medical profession after the war. .She was appointed as the first woman in North Carolina to the position of State Commander of the VFW1996-1997, and I stood and watched dumbfounded as Elizabeth Dole, and other notable people waited in line asked for my grandmother’s autograph at that event in Greensboro, NC. She was a life member of the National VFW, the National American Legion and the National AMVETS organization. She traveled all over the country to meetings for veterans. In the case of her grandchildren, she could stop you with a look, and we knew we were in trouble when the words “Oh for Pete’s sake!” came out of her mouth. Needless to say, this tiny 4 foot 11 inch tall Irish woman was a force to be reckoned with, as were my mother and her sisters. (In case you ever wondered where my sister and I, or my girls get it from.)
         Looking back, I believe it was on that day I was instilled with my mother’s love of history. All genres, but specifically “herstory.” I learned about the suffragettes, and take my right to vote seriously and with gratitude; Grandmother Moses, who understood as much as Lady Liberty how important freedom was; Dolly Madison saving the Whitehouse; Victoria Woodhill, who in 1872 became the first woman to run for president; Amelia Earhart, who did the unthinkable in her time; and for whom my youngest is named; Joan of Arc, who raised a literal army and died for what she believed in; Frankie Silver, the first woman hanged in North Carolina for the murder of her physically abusive husband; Lilith; the first woman God created for Adam in the Garden of Eden, but who was too insubordinate (read: persistent) for the man; the list goes on, women’s right movements  from the beginning of time, to the battles we still fight for our individual rights. My mom had her share of bra-burning-fight-the-the institution- hippie-chick stories, always persisting in her own right. For instance: even though Roe v. Wade had been passed in 1973, she was ridiculed by the women in the church when she decided to get her tubes tied in the 80’s after her third child, because apparently, that was a form of abortion and surely God would not approve of a woman taking control of her body like that.
         But the 80’s was a long time ago, right? Women have come so far, becoming Doctors, Presidents of foreign countries, Senators, Congresswomen, CEO’s, Heads of State even.   And yet, here it is, 17 years into a new millennium, and an esteemed Senator Elizabeth Warren, a professor of law and prominent scholar, was shushed by a man while speaking on the senate floor. What makes this even more ludicrous is that male senators before, and immediately after her, spoke  the same words, reading from a three-decade-old letter from Dr Martin Luther King's widow, Coretta Scott King, then regarding Mr. Sessions being considered for federal district court judge in 1986, and pertaining to President Trump's pick for attorney general . Warren is now forbidden from participating in the floor debate over Sessions' nomination ahead of a confirmation vote. She has literally been silenced. Why? As Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R. Kentucky) so eloquently put it "She was warned. She was given an explanation. Nevertheless, she persisted."
         Well, if I had chosen to believe that same kind of rhetoric when I was 7 Mr. McConnell, I would never have become the history making, award winning woman I am. Count me in as a rebel for the cause. . Mind you, I am by no means a feminist. I don’t think I’ve ever needed to be. I’ve always known I was just as good as anyone else, and time and again I’ve proved it to my self and others. I suspect it was all because of the fierce tenacity, sometimes stubborness, and persistence that continue to be handed down through the women in my mother’s lineage. That being said, I am also aware that not everyone is as fortunate as I am, to have such a strong, positive female influence in their lives. I also count myself beyond lucky that the men in my family have been secure enough to love, adore, and walk beside these women, blessed to be their chosen equals. Nevertheless, I will persist in helping those in my gender find their voice. I will persist in the “liberties and freedoms we hold so dear”. I will persist and “hold these truths to be self evident.” I will persist that we are “one nation… indivisible… with liberty and justice for all.” I will persist, and I will not be silenced.
   �
Practicing mindfulness
By LAURA WELBORN
On my journey to be more mindful in my life I attended a mindfulness workshop.
Research is showing that our brain becomes stronger and gives us the ability to rewire when we practice mindful activities. In as little as eight weeks our brain becomes thicker and develops neuroplasticity.  
So how do we train our brain?
By practicing.
When we walk and let our brain just enjoy the moment, when we focus and become more intentional in what we do and when we are non-judgmental and act with kindness and compassion.  Ringing a bell in our mind is to pause before we speak and ask ourselves:
Is it true? The right time to speak?  Helpful to others? Kind?
The most powerful weapon against stress is our ability to choose one thought over another. Train your mind to see the good in everything.
Being positive and seeing the good does not mean ignoring the negative. Being positive and seeing the good means overcoming the negative.  Next time you have a  thought that is stressing you out, ask yourself these four questions that adapted from philosophical research by Alan Watts and Byron Katie:
Is this thought true? – This question can change your life. Be still and ask yourself if the thought you’re dealing with is true.
Can I be absolutely, 100 percent certain that it’s true? – This is another opportunity to open your mind and to go deeper into the unknown, to find the answers that live beneath what you think you know.  Think about some contrasting possibilities beyond the narrow viewpoint of this one stressful thought.
How do I feel when I think this thought? – With this question, you begin to notice internal cause and effect.  You can see that when you believe the thought, there is a disturbance that can range from mild discomfort to outright panic and fear.  What do you feel?  How do you treat the situation (or person) you’re thinking about, how do you treat yourself, when you believe that thought? 
Who would I be, and what would I do differently, if I were not thinking this thought? – Imagine yourself in your situation (or in the presence of that person), without believing the thought.  How would your life be different if you didn’t have the ability to even think this stressful thought?  How would you feel?  What else would you see?  Which do you prefer – life with or without the thought?  Which feels more peaceful and productive?
When you change your thoughts, you can choose your response and not react negatively to what we think is happening.  
Stay tuned as I learn more about Mindfulness… Laura Welborn, Mediator
The Recorded Deed to Jerusalem   
By EARL COX   
Days after UNSC Resolution 2334 condemned Israeli settlements in the “occupied Palestinian territory” of Judea, Samaria and East Jerusalem as a “flagrant violation under international law” Jerusalem Mayor Nir Barkat issued a strong rebuke: The mayor and his planning-committee director announced the committee’s intent to approve building 618 previously planned housing units in East Jerusalem—a first step toward an additional 5,600 units in the city. “I’m not ever going to stop building. No construction will be stopped by me as mayor,” he said. While the Obama administration harmed its ally by strengthening its enemies, if President Trump holds to his promises perhaps things will change going forward but there is already talk of backpedaling.
Barkat is “politically correct” in the most positive sense of the phrase. He is also legally and historically correct. In property disputes over land ownership, lawyers search property records for deeds, liens and related issues in order to identify the real legal owner(s). They also use mandatory “discovery” to demand that the opposing party provide all relevant documents, inspections and depositions that pertain to the dispute. In the courtroom, the presiding judge determines whether the proceedings and evidence of both sides are represented in a fair and balanced way.
The U.S. abstention of Resolution 2334 and John Kerry’s specious rhetoric laying out his two-state agenda were mockeries of the these basic processes and premises of justice. As further evidence of’ the resolution’s shaky legal grounds, it conflicts with tenets of international law in the Palestine Mandate, UNSC Resolution 242, the Oslo Accords and Camp David Summit.
The Bible clearly defines ancient boundary lines and one of the oldest title deeds in the world is recorded in the Tanach, where King David purchased the future site of the Jewish Temple from Araunah the Jebusite for 600 gold shekels. David’s son, King Solomon built the First Temple on that site. There’s ample additional biblical, archeological, religious and historical evidence of Israel’s abiding connection to Jerusalem that pre-dates Palestinian claims. The Jews governed Israel for a thousand years, and lived there continuously for the past 3,300 years. According to Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs researcher Nadav Shragai, Jerusalem was the Jewish capital during that time, never a capital of any Arab or Islamic entity.
 Despite Israel and the Jewish people’s deep and abiding historical, cultural and religious connection to Jerusalem, the Palestinians, who began to define themselves as a people only about 100 years ago, insist they will never sign a peace deal that does not include Israel’s surrender of East Jerusalem, including the Old City and the Temple Mount. (Under international law, this area is disputed, not “occupied.”) Meanwhile, the Palestinians continue to deny Israel’s right to exist and incite violence and terrorism against her. As Dr. Joel Fishman wrote, “It is simply not possible to build [a state] on a foundation of myth and ignorance.”
 Mayor Barkat and many others rightly discerned the previous administration in Washington D.C. as being anti-Israel long before Resolution 2334 reared its ugly head. Over the past eight years the U.S. has pressured Israel to halt “illegal” Jewish construction in eastern Jerusalem. In recent years Barkat slammed the Obama Administration for criticizing Israel’s plans to expand the suburb of Ma'aleh Adumim—an effort to provide affordable housing in the over-crowded capitol. "I don't know of any city in the world whose regulator is the U.S. president," the mayor remarked. Efrat Mayor and pro-settler leader Oded Revivi added, “Israeli building policies are set in Jerusalem, not New York.”  Based on the latest news reports, it now appears that the Trump Administration are starting to sideways waffle on the topic of settlements. Let’s hope these news reports are mistaken as they so often have been.
What country doesn’t have the right to its unified capital, and to develop and build it?  I pray the Trump Administration will focus its efforts at the United Nations against terror and stand strong on Israel’s side against any and all attempts to delegitimize the only democracy in the Middle East.
Three Presidents and a possibility
By CARL WHITE
Life in the Carolinas
The Carolinas have undisputed claim to three U.S. presidents and the possibility of a fourth. And as with all good southern stories intrigue is not lacking.
I have written about our seventh president, Andrew Jackson, a Democrat, before, and he was certainly born in the Carolinas - the question being, which one, North or South? Both states have people with strong feelings about their side of the line. He was born March 15, 1767, and served as president between 1829-1837. Jackson was also known as the first “Citizen President.”
Jackson earned the nickname of Old Hickory for good reason, life was hard, his father died when he was 2 and his mother died when he was 14. His military activity started in his early teens as a courier during the American Revolutionary War, at which time he was captured and abused by the British Army. It is said that he refused to blacken the boots of his British captures.
A young Jackson would eventually leave the Carolinas for Tennessee and in 1801 that he would be appointed Colonel in the Tennessee militia and his political life would begin. His journey to the White House is legendary and so are his two terms as president.  
Jackson would make the Hermitage, near Nashville, Tenn., his home and he would die there peacefully at the age of 78.
It was during the Jackson Presidency that Arkansas and Michigan would join the Union.
Our 11th President, James K. Polk, also a Democrat, was born Nov. 2, 1795, in Mecklenburg  County, N.C. He served as president from 1845-1849.
Unlike President Jackson, President Polk had the benefit of a strong father and mother that inspired the values of patriotism, religious faith and a strong interest in politics.
At the age of 11, the Polk family homestead was sold and they moved to join his grandfather in Tennessee. Polk would return to North Carolina in January 1816 as a sophomore admitted to the University of North Carolina which at the time was a school with around 80 students. Polk would graduate with honors May 1818.
After graduation Polk returned to Nashville to study law and over the next few years he would serve in a variety of ways and would run for and win the seat for U.S. House of Representatives for Tennessee’s 6th congressional District in 1825, in 1827 Polk was reelected to congress.
It was in 1828 that Jackson ran for President again, Polk would advise Jackson on campaign matters and after the Jackson victory Polk would support the new administrations position in Congress.  
Polk would become Speaker of the House where he would continue to work for the Jackson policies. Polk worked to create a more peaceful environment in the House and unlike Jackson and many others he never challenged anyone to a duel for insulting his honor. Polk is the only U.S. President to have served as Speaker of the U.S.p House of Representatives.
Polk would leave Washington for a while and serve as Tennessee Governor from Oct. 14, 1839 – October 15, 1841.
After an interesting campaign and commitment to only serve one term, James K. Polk would return to Washington and become the 11th president of the United States on March 4, 1845 at the age of 49, the youngest president of his time.
After his term as President he returned to Tennessee and died of cholera only three months later June 15, 1849.
During his term as President the states of Texas, Iowa and Wisconsin joined the union.
Our 17th President, Andrew Johnson, still another Democrat, was born December 29, 1808 in Raleigh. He served as president from 1865-1869. Johnson differed from President Jackson and President Polk as he did not run for the office of President of the United States and he did not pursue a law or military career.
Johnson was on the Lincoln ticket as Vice President and assumed the office because of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.
His family was poor and he started out as an apprentice to a tailor in 1822. While he was still 17, he set out for Tennessee and in 1827 he married 16-year-old Eliza McCardle, who was the daughter of a local cobbler in Greenville Tenn. It would be his new wife that would teach Johnson how to read and write.
Johnson’s public service and political career started as an Alderman in 1803 and then Mayor of Greenville Tenn., then he served in the  U.S. House of Representatives and went on to be elected Governor of Tennessee from 1853-1857.
In 1864 President Lincoln, would make a change from the Republican party and run for reelection under the National Union Party. Johnson was added to the ballot for Vice President and the campaign would turn in Lincoln’s favor later in September. Lincoln defeated George McClellan in the November 1864, electon.
Johnson would be sworn in as vice president on March 4, 1865. Vice President Johnson would become President Johnson on April 15, 1865.
With the end of the Civil War and being faced with Reconstruction and the mending of a nation President Johnson would have few days that were less then enormously challenging.
On Feb. 24, 1868, President Johnson, would become the first U.S. President to face impeachment proceedings. He was charged with violations of the Tenure of Office Act. Johnson was successful in maneuvering for an acquittal and after three months, it was close, with only one vote in his favor that lead to a not guilty ruling. President Johnson was acquitted; however, he was unable to secure the Democrats presidential nomination in 1868.
During the Johnson Presidency, Nebraska would join the Union.
The Abraham Lincoln National Historical Park is in LaRue County, Ky. It is stated that Abraham Lincoln was born there in a one room log cabin on Feb. 12, 1809. However, that is not the only location that claims to be the birth place of Abraham Lincoln.
We discovered The Bostic Lincoln Center in Rutherford County NC and it is their opinion that there is evidence that the 16th President of the United States may have been born on Puzzle Creek in Rutherford County, N.C.  
As the story goes a woman by the name of Nancy Hanks (Lincoln’s mother’s name) was a “bound out” servant girl to the Abraham Enloe family in Rutherford County. It is said that while in care of the Enloe’s, Nancy would become pregnant and Enloe’s wife suspected that her husband may have been the cause of the new development.  
In short, things become very stressful for everyone involved. Abraham Enloe’s wife’s anger increased with the birth of the Nancy’s boy child. Wanting to find peace Abraham struck a deal with Tom Lincoln, for $500, to take Nancy Hanks and the boy child away.
The question of President Lincoln’s place of birth and his real father has been subject of conversation and debate from a time before his presidency.
We do have a Carolina link to Lincoln that seems to be undisputed. The presidential couple who were together for almost 50 years, Andrew Johnson and Eliza McCardle, were married by Justice of the Peace Mordecai Lincoln, first cousin to Thomas Lincoln. That’s right Abraham Lincoln’s father, Maybe
Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its seventh year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturdays at 12 noon. For more on the show visit  www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at [email protected].
Copyright 2017 Carl White
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