A Weekly Offering of This n That

Rainy Day is my alter ego. She is the little angel that sits on one shoulder and whispers in my ear to forgo that 6" piece of triple chocolate fudge with the four scoops of ice cream on it; she is also the little devil who sits on my other shoulder and convinces me that I can eat just one bite of each and be satisfied, and then laughs with such great abandon when in fact, I eat the whole thing, she falls off my shoulder. Mostly, Rainy Day helps me see the humor in living and, mostly, she encourages me down the right path. Not necessarily the straight and narrow one (how fun is that?) but the path that offers the most adventure and fun.


Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Rainy Day and the Protest Movements


This morning, a young friend of Rainy Day's who lives in Singapore, asked if Rainy Day had ever marched in a protest. Now, Rainy Day has been around long enough to have marched in several, and in a way, I guess she did. Both march (and march, and march. She still hears her DI counting cadence in her dreams!) and protest.

You see Rainy Day considers herself a Peace Monger. She hates wars. She agrees with the bumper sticker so popular in the 1960s that stated, "Wars are unhealthy for children and other living things!"  During the 1960s, she protested the Viet Nam war the only way she knew how.  (That was so long ago that Vietnam was still two words!)

While many of her classmates wore tie dyed clothes and long straight hair festooned with flowers (to which Rainy Day is highly allergic), Rainy Day cut her thick curly hair and enlisted in the WAC (Women's Army Corps, no longer around. Rainy Day really is an antique;-).  While Jane Fonda was busy sleeping with the North Vietnamese, Rainy Day was attempting to sleep on the ground in Alabama during Basic Training too close for comfort to deadly, unseen, (but heard, she swears!) pygmy rattlers.

Rainy Day never understood the hippie's protest movement.  She always thought the best way to end a war was to win it -- or it would haunt you forever.  "Look," she is fond of saying, "at the South."

She still protests, but not by marching, camping, or chanting. She writes letters. And she signs them with her name and adds, "I am a Woman, a Veteran, and I Vote!" Her politicians know who she is and what she stands for. Do yours know who you are, and what you stand for? Why not?

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