I Love Dick; White Mayor Only Takes Interviews with White Reporters, Shoes from Dubai

I Love Dick; White Mayor Only Takes Interviews with White Reporters, Shoes from Dubai

“What’s the point of having a voice if you’re gonna be silent in those moments you shouldn’t be?”
— Angie Thomas

Last Sunday, we traveled to hang with our Granddaughter. We took PVHT, she ran around the park, and we spent some time with Maylynn Marie.   We got home and headed to meet our friends; it was Uncle Richards’s birthday; he turned 85 and acted like a 14-year-old boy.  We rented a peddle bike system known as the Pickled Peddler; it was fun; we went with our neighbor Bill who said, “if I were on my game, I would have made shirts that said I love Dick.”

We got up yesterday; we had one mission, we had to hang the quilt that our teammate Peggy made for us.  My wife knew the spot, but we needed a dowel rod.  We went to Sullivan’s hardware and got said rod and a bunch of other stuff we did not need.  We went to the grocery, got more things we didn’t need, and then headed over to get lunch.  We sat outside at a newer restaurant in our area; the food and drinks we exceptional.

At one point, a man, seemingly homeless, began berating a group of young people.  I sensed he was mentally ill and asked my wife if she had any cash; she handed me a $20.00 and motioned the man over.  He said “thank you” and walked away.  Later, those who witnessed the event had a chat about mental illness, its impact, and the lack of services provided to those who needed some mental health.

There was a couple to our right, the young lady commented on my shoes.  I advised I got them in Dubai before sharing. They came from Amazon, and they cost $15.00.   I wear water shoes frequently; they get some attention.  We were sharing our dual life in Indy and CO, and another table jumped into our conversation.  Andrew was a joyful fellow; he had an insight into the mental health conundrum; we all sat there and had a 20-minute discussion.  I will not reveal the race of our new friends nor the race of the mentally disturbed man.  I don’t think race is an essential component of life; I tend to focus on the individual’s heart.

Speaking of race, a white mayor recently said she would only take interviews with white reporters.  Please read that again.  I heard the news and then watched the mayor defend her actions.  Judging one on one aspect of their being is the definition of racism.  Sorry, I misspoke; the mayor is black and will only engage black reporters. Yes, racism exists, but it’s not where we are told it is hiding.  Open your eyes; the narrative has some cracks.

A couple of months ago, while in CO, I met a woman in Indy; she thought it a good idea to meet my wife and me with her husband.  We set up dinner at a local Italian diner, a famous place, and at 6:30, we went to meet our new friends.  We arrived, got a table, ordered our now famous Lindsey Lohan Martini’s, and waited.  At 6:45, I sent her a text we were in the bar, I never heard back, and thus my wife and I had a fantastic date night.  Since we are over 50, we split a dinner and could only eat about 50% of what we were given.  I think the portions most restaurants serve are for four people, but some can finish, others cannot.

We walked home; we did Italian on Friday at another location.  I will say that Friday’s food was better, the service last night was better, but both were beautiful experiences.  As I type these words, my 50-pound dog PVHT is sitting behind me, as is our house guest JoQueen.  They have formed a friendship, but JoQueen weighing in at 5 pounds, is the definite boss; PVHT is just happy to have a friend finally.  Both are rescues; both won the lottery.

We will head East to Richmond today; we’re going to shoot some guns; my wife has a gun her father bought her when he thought he was having a boy.  It’s still in the original box; we will open the box and fire it for the first time.  We will take the said gun back to CO and use it if needed to let the bears know we have heavy artillery.  I have no intention of harming another being, but I will shoot it in the air to let them know of the peril.

My wife is slow asleep (I hear you, Kris), and we have a busy week this week.  Night after night of entertainment.  We love it but need to do a better job of spacing out our events.  I think we have something every night; life in Indy is different than life in CO.  I’d like to call the pandemic over; as we walked home, we saw many large gatherings, no masks, a lot of laughter, and a lot of live music.  If you are still wearing a mask after getting vaccinated, you do you, I’m going to do me.

I now try and find businesses that allow my body my choice.  If you demand I wear a mask after being vaccinated, you are not following the science.  If you want my money, replace your sign of masks are required to “masks are optional,” and I’ll give you some greenbacks.  We Ubered to our date last night, and UBER rules are “you must wear a mask.”  I won’t UBER again until this is rectified.  It’s over; move on.

Sunday, Funday, I hope you have plans to enjoy something bigger than us has made this day.  I hope you don’t focus on the color of the skin of another when assessing their worthiness.  I hope you judge people as individuals and not based on your perceived grouping of that individual.  I don’t understand those wanting to bring back racism when the world has moved forward.   Let me get this straight, as a white man, my claim not to be racist is due to my lack of understanding and that in itself is wait for it.

“What’s the point of having a voice if you’re gonna be silent in those moments you shouldn’t be?”
— Angie Thomas