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21st Century Lesbian Trailer Trash

These are the mad musings of a middle aged woman, dyke, nurse, poet. I have a dog, a cat, a mobile home, and delusions of grandeur.

Location: California, United States

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Dr. Laura & Her Band of Righteous Bigots

This woman came to my mind today because my boss was talking about Indians (Native Americans) and how they really are different from everyone else.

My boss is not a complicated intellectual. She is a simple woman with simple tastes, wants, and needs. She has a kind heart and a passion for taking care of those in need. She believes in God, Mom, and apple pie. But she is also a racist and a homophobe.

If I said this to her face she would freak out. And in my old age, I have learned that it rarely pays to confront folks like this head on. Remember, this is a woman who is responsible for my ownership of a yellow umbrella with a duck head, complete with orange bill, on the top.

Since the discussion of Indians came just before I left for the day, it should surprise no one that during my drive time ruminations Laura Schlessinger came to mind; she of legendary homophobic fame.

According to Dr. Laura, I am a freak of nature. A mistake. A veritable boil on the butt of humanity. The brouhaha she caused when Paramount wanted to televise her show in 2000 is long past. I don't much care what the woman does with her time. Although it does irritate me that she makes millions spouting her second rate drivel about families and relationships.

These days, for the most part, people like Schlessinger do not cause me any great anger or distress. I simply look at them like interesting bugs under a microscope. They are like germs. Nearly invisible but oh so deadly. One day I would like to invent a vaccination to protect your average human from her kind of poison. In the meantime, I will put my energy into making her crazy by supporting things like gay marriage.

As for my boss, I like to drive her crazy by referring to our transgendered employee as SHE. When she angrily tells me that this person is a man, I just say "It's a respect thing P." That's usually all it takes to shut her up although it doesn't quell the volcano rumbling beneath the surface. Still, it gives me a rather small, if somewhat petty satisfaction to mess with her like that.

Just my way, at 50 something, of saying fuck the establishment.

Kinja, the weblog guide


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