I recently joined “E-SNAG” dot com. I found it on the website of News From Indian Country, a paper that just happens to pick up my column, “It ain’t easy being Indian…. etcetera”. Well, they don’t need my plug, however I can honestly attest that the organization has excellent taste in content and writers, not to mention talent and reliability.
Okay, so there I was, totally bored – it’s late and I adamantly refuse to do anything like housework if I can possibly help it. So I signed up, my first time doing such a thing, and I answered the questions openly, blatantly and truthfully, cuz after all, what have I got to lose?
Right then. A day or so later, I get an email from E-SNAG letting me know I had some possible matches, like 7 out of a 72,436.001 Indian guys registered. Hmm. I think that says more about them than it does about me! ( And you call yourselves Braves, huh?) Well, of all them hot frybreaders I got one ‘wink’ so far! I didn’t open the email until I had my face on and my hair did. You know how most menz are, so sweet and shallow at the same time! Anyhow….
I already told yooz I am being upfront, and therefore vulnerable. I
never said I ain’t courageous. I confessed on my profile that I am a
woman of a certain age, which of course means no one is certain but me
Mumz and I paid her off. I also confessed I have three (3!) cats so
far, and one very adorable and needy foofy pup. There are stuffed
animals in my closet that are well loved and who somehow managed to
hang in there with me in my travels and travails, And there is this: I
have a very loud voice, nationally, figuratively and literally, so be
prepared. I also swear, drink and put up a damn good fight, which I
always win. What kinda MAN doesn’t love that? I just can’t believe I’m
Any woman can get a man. I witnessed this over and over in my female
family and friends who are totally desperate, pathetic and so willing
to be bought. Moi? I don’t want just ‘any’ man, I never have and I will
not settle. Call me picky… whatever. I would rather end my days
happily alone than being miserable with someone else.
Be glad, be very glad…. without any narcissism whatsoever, I am one
of those people whom you cannot forget easily, no matter how hard you
try. G’wan! I dare you. Let me know how that goes.
On January 20 our new President of the United States of America, Barack
Hussein Obama, was inaguarated in Washington, D.C., just in case you
were not aware. ; ) Maybe you were stuck head down in a deep well, with
ear plugs, gagged and blindfolded? Naw! I’m sure you at least heard
about it the next day…when someone to whom you owe money figured out
you were missing!
Hah! It took a few clicks, then I got the words I fell in love with, an
unexpected joy at the end of a very emotional presidential inagauration
“Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and
in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day
when black will not be asked to give back, when brown can stick around,
when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man; and
when white will embrace what is right. Let all those who do justice and
love mercy say Amen. Say Amen. And Amen”. Thus said 87-year-old Joseph
Lowery, civil rights activist, calling upon Big Bill Broonzy’s lyrics,
“Black, Brown and White”. Let me add the euphemism “Red Man” to that.
That’s the first time for me that ‘red man’ was not offensive.
I took it to mean that in the spirit it was said, we are in this
together, so let’ get on with it. We are the People, WE ARE THE POWER.
For the first time in my life, I know it to be true. Did I cry?
Celebrate? Oh yes I did, but not just cuz a black guy won the
presidency – the most important office in the world. No, it was because
we put him there. Legally and without doubt or deception. And I praised
those who sang, “nah-nah-nah! Hey heya! Goodbye!” when former (thanks
be to the gods) prez Bush left D.C. He sent our best and youngest to
war to die to and defend ou
r free speech. Take it like a man, Bush. I was never so happy to see anybody’s buttside.
Just recently I got some letters from fans. Oh, I mean MY fans. Doug
from Cheboygan MI, Jo O, and some Pima named Earlton C.L. Yooz made my
day, and probably my life. I gotz so much more to say to yooz, but I
think I’m running short on space for this column.
It shore ain’t easy being Indian, a single Indian, but Happy
Valentines! At least you only got yerself to argue with and you can
always be the winner! Hugs and Kisses, butter and frybread….
PS. Tune in next month when I reveal how to endure 10 seconds of
humilation at a retail discount store for 30% off your new clearance
shirt. I think I got a yell show in me. Hollywood? Call me, I’m on