It Ain't Easy Being Indian
It Aint easy being indian
Friday, April 13 2012
Written by Ricey Wild,
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Writing this column for nearly 14 years now I have always been careful not to call anyone out in particular lest there be hurt feelings and they want to beat me up. This does not include the public cast of characters that are always in the media; them anyone can talk about.
Well darn it, in a recent column I was writing about my job, and that 'an old misery' had it before me. People said that person only had the job of documenting the Rez cemeteries because they couldn't get along with anybody else. I got a good response for that column. Fans wrote, called, and one even said it was my best one ever…well, not according to some very special and important people in my life.
 I had been out from work because my back, which was injured this past fall, was worsening so I was medical leave. When I finally got back and checked my correspondence. I had the sweetest, nicest, non-harshly worded angry letter from my friend Christine. She wrote she was disappointed that I would call out our mutual friend Leroy, that he didn't deserve what I had written and that I was rotten (my words) for doing so. I wrote her back immediately, first that I was NOT referring to Leroy as the old miz, and I feel awful for having unintentionally hurt his feelings. I told her who I actually meant and Christine said, "Ohhhh!" She knows of the person, the real old miz.
First off Leroy, I apologize. It did occur to me after the column was published that you might take it to mean you; I assure you it is not. You are not a misery at all; I cherish our friendship and the time you have taken to impart your knowledge, wisdom and sharing funny stories with me. To be very clear, you're the last person I would ever accuse of being an Old Misery. Gawd knows Rezberry has way more than its share and you, Leroy Defoe, do not qualify. Mea culpa, or in today's parlance, my bad.
It ain't easy being indian
Friday, March 09 2012
Written by Ricey Wild,
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Another election cycle has come just in time to Rezberry saving me from fatal boredom. Very similar to U.S. political campaigns tribal politics can get really ugly and intense during the run for election. Baseless rumors, evil plots and wacked out speculations are running rampant across the reservation. And filthy, toxic lies spill over onto off-Rez voters who are sometimes left wondering what all the hullabaloo is about. And that's just the milder stuff that goes on in the competition for the few rare and highly prized seats on the tribal council.
It ain't easy being indian
Sunday, February 19 2012
Written by Ricey Wild,
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When I was a little brown kid the remedy for having skinned one's knee or other abrasions was to summon a neighborhood dog and have them lick the wound. Rather like Republican health care plans. It was said, I don't remember by whom, that dogs have cleaner mouths than humans and I in my ignorance went along with it. It was much later when I realized that dog's can also lick their hind ends and what is so antiseptic about that? Ick. I love my dog, The Mitz, but she knows to limit her puppy kisses to my ears. Every so often she sneaks in a kiss on my face but I worry more for her because of all the cosmetic products I apply there.
It occurs to me that I write like I'm an old, old woman telling stories about my youth like it was last century. Oh wait! It was last century. I don't ever want to be age seven or even 25 again, but what I do miss is my mobility and ease of movement. Oh, the long gone days of skipping, hopping, jumping and practicing for the Olympics by doing backbends and cartwheels! Alas! Alas!
It ain't easy being indian
Sunday, January 08 2012
Written by by Ricey Wild,
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Feral adj. 1a. Existing in a wild or untamed state. b. Having returned to an untamed state from domestication. 2. Of or suggestive of a wild animal; savage: a feral grin. (Latin fera: wild animal). The American Heritage College Dictionary, Third Edition.
What I have long feared has come to pass. I'm gonna have to update my FaceBook status as 1b. (See above). It was not so long ago that I would shudder at the very thought of unattractive (a.k.a.) sensible clothing. I curled up in a fetal position in bed, put the blankets over my head and issued feeble, irregular whimpers. What is this awful thing? I have gone feral. First sign: Ah- hem! I am now the proud owner of a 'Carhartt' winter jacket, stout 'kamik' winter boots, an orange vest, two orange hats and snow pants, thermal drawers plus lime green reflector gloves with pigskin palm and fingers. The strange thing is; I'm just happy! How, you ask, did this all come about?
It ain't easy being indian
Thursday, December 15 2011
Written by Ricey Wild,
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The Indian dating website "" sent me an email notification saying they had two new matches for me. Since I gave up on that long ago I just had to open it (actually I forgot all about it, I only signed up so I had a topic for my column). The message was brief; rather curt really, they want me to expand my snag-wish list. Sheez! But I think I know one reason why I haven't received many responses. I put 'honest' down for one of my potential buck's qualities. Hai! Oh well, I don't understand why any man wouldn't want to snag up a woman with four geriatric cats, a spoiled little foofy dog, crushing debt and whom can beat your flat butt in Scrabble anytime, anywhere. I'm such a catch, ennit?
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