All posts for the month May, 2018

I’m NOT Loving it.

Published May 17, 2018 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

“It didn’t happen overnight”- So Sayeth Offred in the Handsmaid’s Tale. I’m not sure if that exact phrase appears in the novel, because I’m ankle deep in reviewing fraction reduction with children who are under the impression that Math in and of itself is fluid, with rules that can be debated and argued.  They also think that some test questions are optional,but that line of thinking will just give me Angina of the brain, so I’ll just leave that there.

One of the ongoing trials and tribulations that my long distance relationship finds challenging is that BatBeard and can’t have actual conversations about topics and events. (We are both ever so smart.) Some things are getting lost without the face to face conversation.

As you may have noticed, I don’t need an excuse or much of a reason to get good and cranked up about things. {In fact, I have been fully prepared for revolution since I started teaching. You, know because of that history repeating itself concept and the Mongol Horde destroying Rome because the Mongols had nothing left to lose and the Romans were so flush with cash and food that they would throw up to make room for more food so the Mongols decided”Hey, we’re hungry, let’s storm the city, wreck the place and start the Dark Ages, and there we were in 1992 with gangs a’plenty ( World’s worst stripper name) and ALL of the grants for non-profit organizations were going to builidng Bass Hall, and no one seemed to care that our children were suffering so they whole thing seemed a folly and it wouldn’t have surprised me if North Fort Worth stormed into Sundance Square and took the whole place down.}

I think I have made my point.

So anyway, unless you have been in cave on Mars with your fingers in your ears, you have noticed that there is a LOT of news about Race.  Por ejemplo, (yes that Espanol was used for effect), the incident of the  two Native Americans who were on a college tour and an Anglo woman was nervous so she called the police because she was scared of their Heavy Metal t-shirts and dark skin.  (Prompting me to state that the only scary Mexican in a dark t-shirt is me.) And then the YALE grad student who was having a snooze in a dorm common room while a Doctoral student called the police because a black person was sleeping on the premises. YALE, people.

And today, the news reports that Trump called immigrants animals. As in the people who walked for weeks to get to the US Border seeking asylum.

I know there is a certain amount of news bias. I know this. I’m aware that news stories such as this are probably dog wagging, and that we are probably not getting the whole story.  But  it’s only been a few decades that interracial marriage has been legal.  If the Us vs them mentality continues who knows where it can go?

This is the hueso of contention between Batbeard and I.  He thinks I should stay away from the news because of it makes me growly and stabby.  I think I should remain vigilant, if not growly (Stabby is just part of the territory for teachers at this time of the year.)  I also think it is easy to choose to stay away from the news if you are Anglo, Male and have blue eyes.

I wonder if there will come a day when someone will call him a race traitor: Race traitor is a pejorative reference to a person who is perceived as supporting attitudes or positions thought to be against the interests or well-being of that person’s own race.

I sure hope not.

But it won’t happen over night


Ah, a question for the ages!

Published May 10, 2018 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I have had so many things to write about, but, to be honest, I have been far too precious with my words. I didn’t want to explore my ideas on the interwebs unless they were perfect, but then I realized that I am going to work like some kind of farm animal for the next several weeks (barring a sink hole sucking up my house and solving a majority of my issues).

However, my words of gratitude to the strangers from whose kindness I have benefited, not to mention the largesse of my family which is allowing me to have reliable transportation under My Large-esse, are held back by some words of bitter rage and other carp that I should get out of the way before it takes up any more brain space.

One of the squares of my checkered past includes two trips through a play called “The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told.” It was great fun and I played God.  The great T. Seret Gomez played a wheelchair bound rabbi who quipped, “Why do good things happen to bad people?”

Over the years I have never  met anyone who fit this description as well as The Absence of Good and Holy. This moniker is to demonstrate my ability to rise above the horror and grief, but if you stick with me to the end, I will name a name.

I trusted the wrong person. We have all done that, but I should have known better. I had heard stories that this person was a liar, a thief, a cheater and just an all around loser.

I have no idea why I didn’t see this and for a long while I find myself isolated by my own good will and hope and took what this person said as truth. I robbed myself of good relationships and God only knows what else because I didn’t want to see the truth.

Now that I’ve been out of it for many years I still have the thought in my head that I want to pound him into the ground, or at least pulverize him into a fine powder and sprinkle him all over the Southwest.

The main reason I can’t seem to forgive and let go isn’t because he owes me somewhere in the neighborhood of 10K,  it is because he is leaving a life of apparent happiness.  I only know hearsay, mostly because I’m pretty sure he is staying as far away from me as possible and I only hear bits and pieces.

A woman whose friendship I wished I had had the opportunity to enjoy when I lived in NM just celebrated her 30th wedding anniversary. She has a beautiful family with four gorgeous children who genuinely like each other.  This woman also had a four year long affair with the Absence of All That is Good and Holy.

AATGH almost destroyed her whole family through his desire to have something that belonged to someone else.

And this affair almost killed me.  Not metaphorically, but actually.

The night my head blew up while I was performing, she was in the audience with HER HUSBAND. AATGH was nervous and dressed to the teeth because the only way her husband would let her come to the show was if he accompanied her. (Smart guy, if only he had caught on sooner.)

When it was clear that something was wrong and we canceled the show, I saw her and her husband leave.

If only AATGH had taken a moment to be a man and ask her for help, regardless of what her large, wealthy husband would do to him, things might have been wrapped up a bit faster.

You see, AATGH’s lover is a nurse.

Yes, this selfish bag of hair would have let me die on the floor backstage because he wouldn’t ask a medical professional to help because it might put an end to where he was currently putting his penis.

I have no idea how he covered this up with her, because, to quote Chris Rock, “He lied so much it was damn near a language.”

I don’t know how he has managed to avoid getting run over by the wheel that is Karma.

I have heard that he didn’t have to wreck anyone’s life to be in his current relationship, but he enjoys a bit of fame in certain circles as a blues singer.

I don’t know what specific events in the charmed life of Alejandro Sandoval, II have entitled him to sing the blues, but I do know that he has left a LOT of blue in his wake.