Tag Archives: soapbox

Piranha-infested waters


Wow, there’s a real fight going on over the Red Hen Restaurant expulsion of Sarah Sanders. I don’t know what FB page it was on, but, if it shows up and you make a comment, just know that it’s rather like chunking a pot roast into piranha-infested waters. (I’m pretty sure I misspelled that one.) Anyway, be careful. You might lose a hand or an eye. Right-wingers have definitely gotten their knickers in a twist over this one. It appears that the “…strongly-held beliefs...” of the owner of this restaurant don’t count as much as the “…strongly-held beliefs…” of the baker who didn’t want to bake a wedding cake for a gay couple, not to the conservative crowd, anyway.

Personally, I think any business has the right to have the customers they want. Usually, this weeds itself out. If I had gone to a baker who didn’t want to bake a cake for me, I’d just go spend my money someplace else, but that’s just me. People can choose to run their businesses however they want, in my opinion. Giving Sarah Sanders the boot from the Red Hen Restaurant was the owner’s choice and now customers will choose to support her business or not. I don’t think she’s a horrible person for having made the choice she did; I think she was following her own convictions and that is an honorable thing. Oddly enough, I feel the same way about the baker in Colorado. There are plenty of bakers who’d LOVE to bake your cake – go to them.

On very rare occasions over the past 38 years, I have had to send clients on to other practitioners, or just send them away from me and hope for the best for everyone. The reasons have varied but, most often, it has boiled down to the fact that this person and I just didn’t like each other and needed to be away from each other. I am okay with that, and it has NEVER been over politics, either, just in case you are wondering.

I rolf in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Chances are, 80% of the people who lie down on my rolfing table are more conservative than I’ll ever be, so, I have to figure out something else about them to love. And, I do. I am also smart enough to know when someone is trying to bait me into a political discussion or some sort of verbal volleyball match and I just won’t play the game because it will be of no good purpose. We will only wind up mad at or frustrated with each other, which really defeats the purpose of our work together, and I’d rather honor the work I am blessed to do than win a political argument. In the long run, that’s way more fulfilling.

Well, it’s time to start the day, and I’d rather do that by thinking about someone other than Sarah Huckabee Sanders, whose left eyebrow is probably stuck to the back of her head by now. JS


babies being held as “detainees” by our government along the Texas border


It was a balmy 82 degrees last night when my plane landed in Tulsa, and the high yesterday had only been 86 which, you gotta admit, is pretty decent for summer in Oklahoma. I enjoy being surprised in this way at this time of year in this part of the nation. Texas, where I grew up, and Oklahoma, where I have spent a lot of time, are both notorious for getting a running start on summer beginning in late April or early May and not letting up until the end of September, where sticking your head out the window feels like you’ve just stuck your head into a dryer full of still-damp Levis.

The air seems to disappear during this time. For years, in Dallas, I was sure Texas sold all its air to another state and the humidity and heat created its own particular miasma, rather like a wet diaper, and just about as pleasant. Ugh.

I once shared a motel room in Houston in July with far too many people, all of us there to watch a softball tournament. I wound up sleeping on the floor and awoke in the middle of the night unable to breathe. OH, I thought, OH, MY HEAVENS, THEY’VE BREATHED UP ALL THE AIR – THERE IS NO AIR IN HERE! I rolled over onto my belly and commandoed myself over to the door in the darkness, sliding my hand up to the door handle, anticipating oxygen and cool night air and relief of some sort. I cracked the door open enough to stick my big head outside and was instantly stung above my eyebrows by 3 mosquitoes who figured they’d just arrived at a late-night drive-thru, PLUS, there was no air outside, either! I pushed myself back into the room and lay on my belly, panting into the musty carpet and thinking, as I often do, I’M SCREWED. Eventually, I resigned myself to my fate, and, waiting to die, fell asleep. In the morning, I was still alive, still sweaty, still panting, but more determined than ever to find out just who was sucking all of the air out of my state through some giant pneumatic tube hidden somewhere.

I searched for years, upending every suspicious-looking rock I ran across, ready to shout – AHAAAAA! and blow the whistle on somebody for this offense. I never did find out. I moved away to Oregon instead where the summers are not as long and not nearly as intense. There might be some hot days but it always cools off at night in the Pacific Northwest and I like being able to sleep with the windows open, yes, even when skunks come up in the yard late at night to dig for grubs in the lawn. I savor the sounds of the night I can hear at certain times of the year, like the bullfrog who shows up in the pool in the spring, croaking madly for a potential girlfriend. And, of course, what’s a lovely morning in Oregon without the sounds of a hundred birds right outside? Just think of it – all of that beauty and wonder because I get to leave the windows open. What could be better than that?

All of this focus, by me, on the weather, of course, has me thinking about the young children and babies being held as “detainees” by our government along the Texas border in the broiling heat. FOX news right-winger, Laura Ingraham, tried to spin it all as their being at “summer camp” in describing these children and babies who were taken from their parents by people operating under direct orders from the Trump administration. So, Laura, here’s the deal: I challenge you to go and spend a week with these kids in 100 degree heat, in tents and cages, and then tell me if it still feels like they’re at “summer camp.” Because, I tell you what, Ms. Ingraham: UNLESS ALL THOSE CHILDREN MAKE IT BACK TO THEIR FAMILIES – SAFE, SANE AND UNHARMED – KNOWING HOW TO PADDLE A CANOE AND TIE NAUTICAL KNOTS, I’M CALLING BULLSHIT ON YOU AND YOUR STUPID COMMENT. IF YOU DON’T HAVE A HEART, DON’T REMIND US. Ugh. JS


The improper use of prescription drugs


For all the trouble you could get into for improper use of prescription drugs (I’m thinking fines, jail time, etc.,) it seems to me that prescription pain pills should really make you feel quite a bit better than they actually do. For all of the risks involved, the rewards seem rather limited.

I’m thinking they should make me feel REALLY good and what I feel is OH, OKAY, WELL, IT’S NOT HURTING AS BAD AS IT DID BEFORE. Beyond that, I feel the same. Doesn’t make a lot of sense. Maybe I’ve gotten the bottles mixed up or something and I’m taking the dog’s vitamins.

Weird. Just sayin’…JS


Accidental enlightenment


Accidental enlightenment: when something almost important occurs to you for no apparent reason. For example, I realized yesterday while doing the laundry that, unless you do the last load buck naked and stand in front of the dryer until it is all dried and ready to fold, you will NEVER have all of the laundry done all at once. It is impossible. Thank you. JS


Sept. 11, 2015


On this day of remembrance, as I see these pictures of American flags and the words NEVER FORGET, I am filled with sadness over those we lost and pride in how our country came together to love and support each other the best that we could during such an awful time. I won’t ever forget; I hope none of us do.

However, I am reminded, too, of how the people of Iraq must have felt the same way on that March day in 2003 when hell rained down on them in the form of bombs dropped on them from our planes. 15 of the 19 hijackers on 9/11 were from Saudi Arabia. NONE WERE FROM IRAQ! Don’t you imagine that the Iraqi people feel as unjustly attacked by us as we did by those hijackers? Don’t you imagine that they post images of their national flag and bombed-out cities admonishing their citizens: NEVER FORGET. I can’t imagine it would be any easier for them to forget than it ever will be for us.

War has only brought us unbearable heartache, crushing debt, and more determined enemies. People to whom the USA was only – mehhh – now hate us with a searing, soaring rage. Seems to me the only people who did really well from these endless wars were the big shots at Halliburton and companies like that.

I’m not posting this to stir up a ruckus or to get in a snit-fight with anybody. It’s just an observation on this day of remembering. Gary Zukov said we need to remind ourselves that, when we lose someone we love, no matter what our nationality, that it’s the SAME PAIN. Our pain is no bigger than any other country’s pain. I think we would do well to take that to heart, too, on this day of remembrance. JS


Over 50? Get a Colonoscopy!


Thank you so much for your prayers & thoughts, everyone. A family member had a colonoscopy last week and they found (and removed) a 3 inch mass hiding back, which was laden with pre-cancerous cells.

He’s on antibiotics now to ward off infection and he will have to be cautious and conscientious about regular colonoscopies going forward, but I think he’s going to be okay. What a relief.

So, to all of my over-50 friends, if you have not had a colonoscopy, I STRONGLY URGE you to do so.

The first one I had, my doctor looked right out of Jr. High. Of course, they give you this happy juice to get ready (probably big mistake in my case) so you’re liable to say ANYTHING, which I did. So, my middle school doc walks in and I say, “Finish your paper route?”

And he replies, “Ha-ha.”

I look at him with my crossed eyes and ask, “How old are you, anyway…Son?”

And he replies, “Old enough.”

I stared at him some more before I said, “I bet I’ve got polyps older than you!” Turns out, I did, BUT NOT ANYMORE!

So, please, my friends, GET YOUR COLON CHECKED! Caught early enough, colon cancer is totally treatable, and a colonoscopy is not as bad as you might think – it’s the prep that’s the challenge. Okay. Rant over. Hugs. JS


People good at sales say…


I have been informed by people in sales who are very good at their jobs that my offer of a refund if people don’t like my books is a dumb idea, that I need to take a sales course, etc. And, while all of that might be true, my offer still stands and my reasoning is this: the number of moments we have here on Planet Earth is finite and we don’t know what that number is. I don’t want anyone to be disappointed that they spent time or money on what I have written. Thus, if you buy either or both of my books and don’t like them, just tell me. I can’t give you your time back, but I can give you your money back.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. JS


I’m feeling a strong urge to write to someone about this


Stef took a couple of Nyquil capsules last night and, thus, she may sleep until Tuesday.

One time, some years back, when I was still rolfing in Dallas, I felt I was getting a cold. My friend Shirley handed me a Coricidin-D cold tablet, which I immediately took. Made it to DFW and onto my Delta flight, but I fell asleep so hard that what woke me was this very young, very sweet flight attendant trying to lift my big head out of the aisle (where it was hanging) and back onto my chair (from where it had slipped) all so they could get past it with the beverage cart. I don’t remember anything about that flight beyond that.

I’m thinking that sleeping through an illness might not be such a bad thing; I feel the same about addictions, too. I think we should be able to be knocked out for a period of time and, when we awaken, we are amazingly free of, say, brownie or bacon molecules floating around in there which make us want more of them. I might be even more brilliant than I’d imagined and am now feeling a strong urge to write to someone about this. First, I’ll go make breakfast – no brownies, because I am so amazingly strong; plus, we don’t have any, but bacon, for sure. JS


marathon days and crossword puzzles


A marathon day yesterday, starting @ 3am, when I awoke, terrified I’d oversleep and not get on the road in time.

Left by 7am and drove to Portland when I was suddenly besieged by papers and notary things and faxes that all needed to be handled IMMEDIATELY and sent back to Dallas.

Then, I did 3 rolfing sessions, hopped in my car and wrestled my way through rush hour and back onto I-5 South for the 3hour drive back to Roseburg. Made it home about 9:30pm.

I was BEYOND exhausted when I crashed onto my pillow last night. Stef has the flu, however, so I’m feeling better than she does today. There are little piles of Kleenex everywhere and half-consumed cups of various kinds of tea sitting around.

Tea always strikes me as a hopeful thing – something unrequited, for me, although the Brits and the Canadians see it as a cure-all for everything, I think. I always expect to feel better than I do when I drink it; maybe my expectations are too high. I always think I should feel FABULOUS when I drink it, or, at least, good enough to want to stand on the hood of my car and sing BORN FREE out loud with my arms outstretched and flailing in the air. But I don’t, which always makes it a little disappointing.

It’s rather like how I feel about elections and crossword puzzles: so very HOPEFUL that now, by golly, NOW, we’re going to get something good done. And then, we don’t. And I’m bummed.

With crossword puzzles, I sit there staring at all those little squares, inhaling the woodsy smell of a freshly sharpened pencil, the tip of my tongue sticking out of the corner of my mouth, devouring all the easy ones quickly. Then, I can feel myself slowing down, wrestling with the hard ones, getting madder and madder at the smarty-pants know-it-alls who think these things up and I start looking for an address so I can mail a scathing letter that will slap them so hard they’ll think twice about putting words like “parsimonious” in a local newspaper crossword puzzle ever again – EVER! I fling the paper across the room in disgust and rage.

Yep, they’ll be hearing from me, alright, those creeps. And, just so they’ll know I mean business, I’ll be sure to sign it, Your Sworn Enemy, Jody Seay. That’ll show them. Bastards. Okay, end of rant. I have to go now. My tea is cold. JS