“Not in Assisted Living (Yet): Dispatches from the Edge of Independence!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean
Showing posts with label snowplow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snowplow. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Oprah for President…or Not!



The biggest decision I had to make Monday was whether or not to cancel my haircut appointment. It had snowed overnight and the snowplow hadn’t been down my cul-de-sac and it was a mess out there. After watching the morning weather report I called the salon and asked if my girl had any openings in the afternoon that I could switch to. She did. And low and behold by the time I had to leave, the sun was shining bright and the snowplow came by like the giant, green machine that it is, pushing all the snow to the side in its wake. I was free, free at last! It was the day after the Golden Globes and I was anxious to get a reading from the millennials working at the salon regarding Oprah’s speech given after receiving the Cecil B. DeMille Life-Time Achievement Award. I was not disappointed. They were ready to put on their pink pussycat hats and support her, should she run for president. 

When I first heard the speech it brought tears to my eyes but it wasn’t until her long-time boyfriend, Stedman, said that she was seriously considering the idea of running that I realized I needed to be on my favorite political debate site where an Oprah run for president might be a hot topic of discussion. It was and it thoroughly entertained me both Sunday night and Monday. Trump fans were twisting themselves into pretzels saying a "TV reality host" isn’t qualified to run for president and it was even funnier when Sean Spicer gave an interview saying the same thing. Did he forget that his former boss was a TV reality host with no experience in governing when he threw his hat in the ring? And she actually built her 3.1 billion dollar media empire all by herself where Mr. Trump’s fortune was piggy-backed off his father’s fortune. But to the Trump supporters I was debating she’s an “elitist black bitch” who can’t relate to common people and who hates white people. I love political debate sites when one side or the other gets a pea stuck up their nose. Of course, it’s more fun when I’m not the one trying to dig a pea out from where it doesn’t belong.

Oprah’s speech was over nine minutes and she spoke without notes or a teleprompter and the second time I saw it---knowing she could actually run for president---it gave me chills. She ended the speech with: “In my career, what I've always tried my best to do, whether on television or through film, is to say something about how men and women really behave. To say how we experience shame, how we love and how we rage, how we fail, how we retreat, persevere and how we overcome. I've interviewed and portrayed people who've withstood some of the ugliest things life can throw at you, but the one quality all of them seem to share is an ability to maintain hope for a brighter morning, even during our darkest nights. So I want all the girls watching here, now, to know that a new day is on the horizon! And when that new day finally dawns, it will be because of a lot of magnificent women, many of whom are right here in this room tonight, and some pretty phenomenal men, fighting hard to make sure that they become the leaders who take us to the time when nobody ever has to say ‘Me too’ again.”

Before the Golden Globes I would have groaned at the idea of another celebrity candidate for president, but now I’m wondering if that’s exactly what we'll need in 2020. Oprah is known and loved world-wide and she could certainly repair the damage Trump has done to our international relationships. World leaders know her character and philanthropic reputation and they won’t have to take a wait-and-see approach like they would with most others. She smart, compassionate, pragmatic, a hard worker and has the right temperament to be a good leader. She’d also have no trouble racking up enough donations from both celebrities and ordinary people without having to suck up to lobbyists who’d want pay-backs. I'm guessing an Oprah run probably won’t happen although she's leaving the door open to the idea. She’s “intrigued” she says and that’s enough for me to believe that with the next election people with an impeccable high moral fiber, like Oprah, will step up to the plate and run. The pendulum will swing back to sanity in the White House.

After getting a haircut the second hardest decision I had to make Monday happened at the Guy Land Cafeteria where I had to decide whether to eat my late-lunch facing the windows or the cafeteria line. I chose the latter and it was a good choice because after I sat down a group of eight retired guys came in and sat between me and the line. I took out my notebook at the ready to be Lois Lane, girl reporter working for the Daily Planet. My mission: To find out what a bunch of old dudes talk about. I noted they didn’t talk about grand-kids, medical problems, sports or world affairs. They didn't laugh or even chuckle. They didn’t mention Oprah so I’m guessing the Golden Globes was on past their bedtimes. A couple of them did, however, notice when I dropped some tuna salad on my chest, making a terrible stain I made worse by trying to wipe it off. That’s how I knew the guys weren’t all dead. ©