subscribe_today.png

 
ls_circlepaper_webbanner_r1_v01_december.jpg
fundraiserrolormelandbanner.jpg
It Ain't Easy Being Indian
It ain't easy being indian
Thursday, May 17 2012
 
Written by by Ricey Wild,
Average user rating    (0 vote)
Last year I was at home semi-watching regular TV for background noise when stormy weather blew out some power lines. I was at a momentary loss as to what to do while the electricty was out. I decided to put in a movie until the electricity came back on. I remember looking at my DVD collection when the realization hit me; the power is out and there wasn't anything I could do but wait. True story.
It Aint easy being indian
Friday, April 13 2012
 
Written by Ricey Wild,
Average user rating    (1 vote)
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,
Average user rating    (0 vote)
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,
Average user rating    (0 vote)
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,
Average user rating    (0 vote)
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?
<< Start < Prev 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Next > End >>

Results 64 - 72 of 93

****SPONSORS

bald_eagle_erectors_web_size.jpg 

bsbc_ccs_online_logo.jpgwellsfargo_72dpi.jpg

common_bonds_cathedral3.jpg

Syndicate