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Meta
BONUS CARTOON: Space race
Posted in Cartoon
2 Comments
The Rain Dance
Like the first wave of a bloody invasion, the thunderstorm’s first rain drops were mowed down by the late-July heat. Each giant drop hit the earth and instantly turned to steam. The following drops, though, overwhelmed the heat’s defenses. The record temperatures soon surrendered to the cooling rain. The summer would win the war, but today it had lost the battle. The man and dog on the porch took their victories where they could get them. It had been a brutal summer — in many ways.
The man poured a glass of lemon-ice water, took a sip, flipped through the mail and gently rocked on his porch. His mind was lost in the hiss of the rain coming through the oak leaves. His attention was brought back to the present whenever there was a rolling clap of thunder. And then it faded off again. (Thunder that made the dog nervous. He had been that way since Katrina.)
A mist began to shroud the rolling countryside. Hills that had been fought over by the likes of Sherman, Grant and Hood now grew corn and oak trees. The record drought had burned up the landscape. But today’s rain broke that drought. The man thought he could see the corn start to rebound right before his eyes.
The Great Recession had been another drought that had wilted his professional crop. For six months, he had angrily sat on his front porch watching his career wilt like the corn. And as long as he was angry, no clouds of opportunity appeared on the horizon. He sat there, burning up and steaming between his ears watching his world wither and die.
About a month ago, he released his anger. He just let it go. He forgave those he had held a grudge against so long. The people responsible him for being in this mess. And most importantly, himself. It was his rain dance. His gesture to the sky. Part of his rain dance was to get up and get moving. To smile more. To laugh at the absurdity that life had dealt him. The dog sensed a change, too. Dogs usually are smart like that.
Another clap of thunder rattled his house, much to the dog’s displeasure. The rain was coming down harder now with three inches in the rain gauge so far. The man smiled, took another sip of cold water and looked through the mail in his lap again. The top letter was a job offer.
“The rain dance worked,” he thought. As he and the dog watched the rain continue to come down, he knew the drought was over.
Posted in Writing
4 Comments
Betty Ford
Before there were pink ribbons, Susan B. Komen events, “Save the Ta-Ta’s” t-shirts and breast cancer support groups, there was Betty Ford. At time when breast cancer survivors were forced to suffer in silence, she announced to the world she had had a mastectomy — and just a month after President Ford became President in 1974. A topic that had long been taboo was suddenly being discussed openly. It was no longer a “loss of your sexuality” or a something that “was not discussed in polite company.” It was a disease. A disease that threatened moms, daughters, and sisters. Breast cancer survivors got their first taste of support. How the disease was viewed was changed forever.
As a family member of a breast cancer survivor from that era, I wish to say thank you, Mrs. Ford. May you rest in the peace that you brought so many others.
Posted in Writing
4 Comments
Saturday Free-For-All
Good morning (yes, I know it is late, but I’ve been lazy this morning.)
Posted in MRBA
18 Comments
Friday Free-For-All
Nine hours of driving yesterday later and I’m back in Jackson. What’s up with you?
Posted in MRBA
52 Comments


