The Native Iowan

Open Letter To All whom I may have offended and All whom may have offended me

We Can Be Friends

I think it’s more of a function of age than anything else… this getting pissed off with people because of differences of opinion. 

What happened to the old “we agree to disagree”? Not acceptable any more. 

I find that pretty much all of my age group is inherently grumpy, and the political scene is a trigger that can set us off. Our skin has gotten thin with age. 

My trigger is stupidness. I struggle to hold my tongue when I see someone being fucking stupid, swallowing the propagandistic political hooks baited with recycled BullSHit. 

A lot of it all comes from a recent heightened sense of political awareness. Or, maybe, an overall heightened general awareness? As we age our sense of time changes. Mortality means more for me at 60 than it did at 30. 

My trigger is stupidity. 

What is your trigger?

Is it religion, or race, or gender, poverty, or industrial-military might being misused or… 

Difference and disagreement is good… or it used to be good. Passionate discussion has always been a positive pastime. Debate until you change your point of view. Listen and learn. And maybe offer few lessons to others. We learned through sharing and interacting. 

But not any more… Is it a product of age? 

I have been kicked to the curb, abused, defamed, gang rapped, trolled, and much maligned by what were once friends, who now, because I don’t agree with them, consider me the opposition party. The enemy.

Just because I do not agree with YOUR Truths of Today does , for some, mean I am the opposition. 

Which gives some folks the right to tell me how despicable and terrible and horrible and nasty I am. 

I am tempted to reprint a dialogue I had with one close friend last October. But I won’t. Its petty of me even to raise it, but that individual steam rolled right over me, starting with a great line… “I don’t care about the facts this time…”, and ended with a very loving, or one-time loving line… “I used to be proud of you…”.

Another dear, dear old friend went into melt down when Hillary lost the 2016 election and for some reason chose me to attack. 

I was never a Clinton supporter of any kind and wrote a rather lengthy discussion about the change in the electorate and the fact that we got a megalomaniac from the private sector instead of an entrenched political swamp creature. I wrote looking at the situation from both sides. But all made little difference in the long run. Boy, that individual was not happy with me. Still aint. Considers me The Enemy.

I consider it all a function of age. As we age, we get grumpy.

Intolerant may be a better word.

But why are we getting stupid-er at the same time? 

I think of my last trip to the USA… Late in the year, 2018, I was divesting myself of an apartment we’d had in Pasadena. When I went to the US my daughter told me I could not wear a red  hat I liked, said it made me look like a Trump-guy…

We’d kept the apartment on Cordova as a fail-safe to our Australian Emigration plan. We were home and hosed in Australia, accepted as residents, no longer the need for the pad in Pasadena, the back door…

I was about done with my move. Had divested all possessions: motorcycles x2, Jeep SUV, household goods. Was sleeping on a leather sofa I just left in the apartment. 

That’s when I inadvertently found a very, very old and dear, dear friend living within blocks of Cordova. After being there for a few years we found each other, living in such close proximity, just as I was moving out. 

Of course, we met up, after almost 20 years, we sat and caught up on life. We had a lot of ground to cover. 

One of the “things” that came up was the fact, as I had it explained to me, that my white privilege had enabled me in everything and every-way in my life. 

This was the first time I had the whole privileged thing explained to me, and I listened, really listened about White Privilege… I had read of it and had an idea but my dear friend explained it to me in depth, over supper. 

I did not agree and said so. I spoke of my life, explained my position, argued the proffered explanation and disagreed that any of it made much sense and none of it applied to me. 

The topic was changed. I never met my friend again. I had not measured up, I guess, not been acceptable, any longer, because I did not agree.

Did not agree with what though?

Part of the problem is the “MEME, disguised as fact or news”. Part of the problem is people are naturally lazy, and our modern world has enforced this trait. Few do the home work. Few research and study. 

I admit to being a repeat Offender. 

And…

My bedside manner sucks. 

One thing I am guilty of, with another friend, is not allowing them to be stupid. It goes back to dumb memes… It combined sports and politics… A retired sporting hero saying something positive about Trump… my old friend states that the ex-hero was never any good so should not be listened to. 

I got involved, aiming to correct my dear friend’s social stupidity I tendered that the ex-hero was indeed a legend in his times, but just because he held records did make him an authority on the political scene. Sure, his endorsement of Trump was kinda news, but the public blasting of the ex-hero because of his endorsement was herd mentality. The cancel-culture at work. I stated publicly that my old friend was way too smart to stand in line and say “moooo” with the other brainless bovines on-line. 

Nope, we went back and forth. I was wrong. I lost. Because the ex-hero supported Trump, all his past achievements were cancelled-out. 

Another one was the idea that the world is systemically racist. One on-line-friend attempted to counsel me, to explain to me how I was racist, had to be racist, and didn’t even know I was racist.

My answer was “go fuck yer self”. 

So, indeed, my bedside manner does suck.

Apologies for me are easy. I apologies for having such a terrible bed side manner. But not for the facts. 

I apologise for being rude and blunt but that’s nothing new for me. If you know me and are still offended by my ways, well, not much I can say. 

I apologise for not being a pussy, a frightened creature seeing doom and gloom and terror and sadness. 

I apologise for calling out the bullshit, for insisting that we use facts when we talk matters of importance.

But I’ll never apologise for putting small children on fast machines. For raising my pups to be risk-takers. 

I’ll never apologise for insisting my tribe are not timid. 

I’ll never apologise for having so fucking much fun in life.

Smiles all around

More later