It Ain’t Easy Being Indian – February 2020

photo of ricey wild

By Ricey Wild

Finally, I can write this column after being subjected to Microsoft’s pretentious, lofty, mighty and absolute control of our entire existence. I had to renew my subscription for Office, to prove that I yam who I yam, and was tsk-tsked when my answers did not go through. As if I would lie about being a cranky ole Indigenous Auntie who lives in Rezberry. We all know there is no such software, program or entity that preserves our privacy. Wake up!

I do not appreciate anyone making things more difficult for me to accomplish. I’m lucky I can walk WITH my walker from my bed to the bathroom. AND with this, I’m just getting started with the latest indignities I have suffered and my now lifelong angst. My lighter just frizzled. I feel its frustration. What I really want to do is rage, fight, hiss and maybe diss anyone or anything that tries to set me back.

In December I wrote about how I broke my left funny bone. I had two surgeries on it and a hole (yes, a hole!) opened in my arm, due to the surgeon and his assistant’s incompetence. The second surgery was also a fail. Last week I had to call 911 because I was in excruciating, mind-bending pain in my back. I went to an actual hospital, not back to the butchers that serve Rezberry who are responsible for the two failed surgeries on my not-so-funny bone.

Yah, well, the ambulance ride was really special. It hit every bump in the road and by the time I got into the ER I was a corroded mass of damaged nerves. I arrived a blubbering sobbing hot mess. Thankfully the Doc said he could not send me home in my condition (if he had, just start digging my grave) and I was sent to the hospital for observation. There I was told by a Neurosurgeon that I have the bones of a 90-year-old woman. Say what? So, all the walking, dancing, shimmying and waitressing I did in The Big City was all for nothing? Nothing? My son and I used to walk to Loring Park, to restaurants and friends’ homes blocks and blocks away. When I was much younger (!!!) we also walked everywhere, no big deal. We just walked, even if we had bus fare or could afford a taxi. That is until Betty got a car. HB Betts!

Well, I went to rehab, the physical kind FYI, and I went from being unable to walk and on complete bedrest to walking within a week! Bless them. I’m gonna practice cartwheels in no time. That or I will never leave my home and let life come to me. I get that I will never be able to do what I used to, but I will demand my brittle carcass defend Social Security rights until I can’t. 45’s administration (ha-ha) is out to destroy all we worked for, and by voting now and this November 3rd you will have a voice in whether we survive or sink into despotism.

When I think about this it is so ironic: the European colonizers founded this country to fight against the English monarchy, and now we have this very real current threat happening here. Now don’t go thinking I support the U.S.A. unilaterally – especially after the atrocities and genocide the Pinks committed when stealing our homelands. No, uh-ah! What I am encouraging white people to do is to get real.

45 is setting up a complete takeover, via Putin’s evil genius, and is pulling in all the ignorant, racist, xenophobic, etc. Nothing is too out of line in describing this current hypocritical absurdity. Why brown and black supporters voted for the Orange one is beyond my comprehension, especially when they personally represent who he is trying to eliminate. As if Indigenous People never existed and African People were never enslaved in order to build the infrastructure of our lands.

Whites, Europeans, Invaders, Colonists, Serial Psychotic Murderers, or as I like to call them, Pink People, have centuries of bloody warfare and crimes against humanity on Turtle Island to answer for. That very issue is now being lied about in the Senate by 45’s defense team liars who know they are lying. LOL! It would amuse me if that plot weren’t actually working for the benefit of billionaires. That sad, old tattered trope about Americans pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps to achieve the American Dream is the height of hypocrisy.

Just so yooz know, I’m not done yet by any means. My plan is to hang out and see what happens next episode. Keep popcorn handy. I have no intention of letting anyone get over me.

Much love my Aquarian Birthday Loved Ones! Too many to name, you know who yooz are! M’wah! Puppy Kisses!