I don't write much lately. Doubt that anyone's noticed. Since I've retired, I don't have much time to write. I know, I can't figure that out, either. I have nuts to tend to, well, trees with nuts, pecans to be exact. And I've been doing a lot of work to the house. I'm painting the laundry room today. You know you're just about finished when you get to the laundry room. Really, I've just been trying to keep myself busy until the pecans fall off the trees. When they do, I'll have to pick all those little suckers up off the ground. (SMH)
The real reason I don't write lately is...a person can get themselves in a whole lot of trouble saying what's on their mind. Take Megyn Kelly for example. Granted, even I would not have said what she said about painting your face black. I will tell you that I got into a playful paintbrush fight yesterday while painting the bathroom with...well, I can't tell you about her, but I ended up with my face painted green. Not sure I can say that. Anyway, back to Megyn. BOOM, a slip of the tongue and kiss that eighteen million dollar a year job goodbye. You simply cannot talk about certain folks at all...unless you are named Hillery, who did not hesitate to say, and I quote to avoid persecution, "They all look alike..." during an interview recently. Yes, we know who she was referring to, but she can get away with saying things like that. And I'll leave that right there for fear I may wind up with four bullets in the back of my head.
If you think Megyn Kelly paid a steep penalty for her moment of 'blondeness,' wait until you hear this story. PBS editor Hugh Heckman was terminated from his job for a comment about Meghan Markle, referring to her as "not bad." I suppose he meant in a visual way, as in, as I would put it, "smokin' hot." Boom, hit the unemployment line, Hugh! Then there was a school principal, who caught up in a social media thread, expressed his opinion on the caravan of migrants marching toward our border. I don't recall exactly what he said, but I didn't take it as racial, but BOOM! Suspended! Expelled from school. Pay attention! These are things you cannot say. Just thinking about these topics is risky in itself.
Sometimes you don't even have to speak to face persecution. A white woman dressed up as Beyonce for Halloween...BOOM! No job! Halloween is an optimal holiday to rattle some folks. One must choose their costume carefully these days. One should not dress up as anyone outside their own ethnicity or gender identity. One should not dress up as a fictional character. One should not dress up as an animal if they wish to avoid the wrath of PETA. One should avoid dressing up as a witch, ghost, or the devil if they wish to appease Satanists, or perhaps Baptists for that matter. Really, hasn't Halloween passed it's prime anyway?
Have we not entered the age of utter ridiculousness? I personally am right on schedule to leave all this behind in the next twenty years at the most. By then I'll likely be ecstatic when they put me in a wooden box and lower me in the ground. Until that day comes, I am forced into hermitization, exiled to the foreboding wastelands of west Texas. I'm good with that, actually. I can speak my mind freely out here with not a single soul to chastise me except an old dog who spends it's every waking moment sleeping. I can wander aimlessly beneath my pecan trees as I allow my mind to free itself of the uncertainties of the world I live in. I can call a blackbird a blackbird out here without fear of repercussion. I am free to paint my face green or red for I am already unemployed, one of those awesome perks of retirement. I will be able to sit on my porch and watch the caravan of illegal immigrants march by, which by the time they get this far will have likely grown in numbers equivalent to the population of Dallas. And I will be able to freely greet them with what Spanish I know, which, trust me, shouldn't be spoken in the presence of preachers or your mama.
Yes, until the day I leave this world, I can live as I choose in complete solitude, speak my mind as long as nobody is within hearing range, and dress as I wish as long as I pull the shades down. I can play with my little black-faced dog and spend my evenings playing Mexican dominoes with...well, I can't tell you about her. Yep, I am truly blessed to be an introverted hermit, spending my golden years beneath the shade of my pecan trees waiting for my nuts to fall. Can I say that? Somebody's surely offended...