It Ain’t Easy Being Indian – December 2021

photo of ricey wild

By Ricey Wild

Well dag-nabbit! I’m so mad I didn’t get back to you last month. See, I was involved in a social experiment where if you don’t pay for WiFi services, they cut you off!!! Ah, no, actually I was mad at the SAT company who wanted $650+ for service I never got. So the good news is I’m back online.

I admit here I am addicted to a social medium that starts with an “F” in every sense of the letter. On Sesame Street they would introduce the “F” word and then say, “It means Fraud – see also Foolish.” Well, that is how I feel sometimes but like my other quirks, Ima hang out there for a while just to see what happens.

The effects I was anxious about is what is gonna happen to me without electricity? Umm….I had electricity, just not for the narcissistic electronic junk tools I use every day. I only had my phone to use! Then I became more aware of the sounds outside, the birds yelling, but only if I was up early. It took time but I have come to appreciate the outside again, even though I wasn’t in it very long.

As I have written many times now, I suffer from depression, anxiety and other mental issues. The reason I do this is so that the attached stigma is erased. Some people may recognize some symptoms and seek counsel, which is there when you need it. Do that no matter what, for you and those who love you and need you here. Word.

That said, I thought it would be harder not having satellite TV as I had ‘my’ shows I HAD to watch. So week one, week two and three went just fine. I got my WiFi back and can now go to any online broadcast outlet and get depressed, broken and inconsolable at the suffering in this world. I do not recommend not watching the news media, just turn it off if you can’t do something about it. Eya, eya! We are all responsible for each other in our shared humanity.

Just as most of the entire world’s population, I’ve been isolated and starved for company due to the Covid pandemic. In my case the trauma was doubled because I had surgery on my left ankle and was unable to walk. Leave it to me to have a ‘poor me’ story to eclipse anyone and everyone else’s.

My friend Anneh came to Rezberry to celebrate her birthday in October with me and we had a grand ole time! We stayed at the casino, I gambled and lost (grrr!!!). So when she asked me to get some tickets for the Rezberry Fashion Gala, of course I said, “Let’s do it!” Turns out the show was free.

The show of course featured Indigenous designers and opened with a history of indigenous design, very informative and sad. The models were gorgeous and the show divine. I loved it! You all are stars!

Well then, I went and lost what was left of my money, but my son offered to feed me at the buffet, so what could a busted poor ole Maw do?

I got brussels sprouts and a Flintsone slab of prime rib. I must have looked just hungry and pitiful to the chef. So I did my best to demolish that very rare piece, doing my best and wishing I had thought to bring a baggie to share with the beasties. I just gathered up napkins from the table and threw the meat into my walker seat. The waitress saw me do it.
Aw no! I thought I was gonna be hauled out of the buffet in utter humiliation wearing my vintage black velvet dress, Doc’s and Steam Punk hat in front of other losers. I waited for the manager to show up. So then I concocted a scheme where I would be the first one to leave and the three others would stall the staff while I made my getaway with pilfered meat.

This time I got away with it, this time. Smooth criminal. (Ay!)

So my son came over and gave me some much needed help and in the excitement of having people in my house I forgot about the prime rib, which had made the trip from the casino to my house. Next day I’m sitting in my spot and feel a bit puckish, then I remember the meat.

It was inside my walker, all rejected, so of course I had to honor the cattles wish to be appreciated. I ate part of it and it was damn good! So my feral tendencies have not disappeared, only increased. I offer no apologies, it was still delicious a day later and I didn’t die. This time.

Love Yooz!