Waiting For That Rocket

I try to avoid politics on my blogs, but sometimes I can’t help it. And Lord knows there’s a lot of politicking going on these days. But what’s inspired me today are taxes.

So I work in retail. As I have for twenty years so I know I’m paid fairly well for what I do. That being said I lose 1/3 of my pay every two weeks to taxes and benefits. The benefits aren’t my gripe. It’s the taxes.

I’m losing 20% of my paycheck every two weeks to taxes. Don’t get me wrong. I will happily pay taxes if it keeps roofs over head, food on plates, munitions and protection in soldiers’ hands.

Where my gripe is that someone who is a billionaire isn’t paying the same percentage. Not even saying, “Hold them to 20%.” Imagine if billionaires were taxed 10% of their earnings. Think they’d have enough left over to survive on?

Taxing billionaires at even a fraction of what I (we, you) are taxed could fund education, social security, Medicare and Medicaid, without breaking a sweat.

Again. I am happy to do my bit to fund social services. I’m not able to donate millions of dollars to nonprofits so my several thousand dollars in taxes will have to do my bit for me.

I just ask that before you get up in arms about taxing the wealthy on a similar scale to the scale you are taxed on you crunch some numbers. A single billionaire would still be walking home with 900 million end of year.

Inflation is horrid right now, but they should be able to shop at Target still.

Alright, Laurentians. Here’s the speech I wrote for graduation senior year. I’m grateful to see many of my thoughts of our future have come to fruition.

“The past four years have been eventful, remarkable, and unforgettable. From family and friends lost along the way. Changes to the layout of campus. The ebb and flow of faculty and staff. The trials and tribulations of the past four years have forever left their mark on us. If you’re like me, you’ve made incredible friends, met inspirational mentors, and had an overall transformative growing experience. This may have happened in the classroom, the Greek system, a sports team, or a club or organization. Sure you may have toyed with the idea of transferring after the big loss, the low grade, or the disappointing election loss, but the thought of leaving St. Lawrence likely wrenched a part of your heart you were trying to deny existed. Today we are being forced to leave. For some of us, our contact will be limited to communication from Calling All Saints asking for a donation to the St. Lawrence Fund. But for many of us, we will remember being a pub major, the old Hoot Owl mix, Club Win, the Green Wall and no matter where we are either developmentally or geographically, we will remember St. Lawrence and the people who helped formulate our experience. And we’ll smile. Maybe cry. And call our friends and say, “Remember when…?” If I could entreat you to do one thing following graduation it would be stay in touch with the people you’ve loved for the past four years. Ours is the generation with the easiest access to communication. Everyone has email, many have cell phones, and almost all have Facebook. Ours is a privileged generation in that we can let the people we love and appreciate know that we do so. If our class achieves half of what we have the potential to we will change the world. Public health, medical school, high finance, grad school, teachers. Our class is going places. We just can’t forget those who helped along the way. Congratulations class of 2006.”

Many of you know, but not all, that a month ago I had my uterus and ovaries removed. The chief reason is that every month my ovaries had a hormone dump that made me actively suicidal.

My amazing doctor had me on a shot to prevent that every couple months, and it was mostly effective, but she was reluctant to continue that treatment as there wasn’t a lot of convincing evidence about a continuation of the medicine not being detrimental.

Why was this important? Looking back at the past eight years the bulk of my hospitalizations for suicidality tied in REAL close with my premenstrual hormone dump. It was time to stop those dumps from ever happening again.

Having gotten through what would previously have been called PMS since the surgery I can tell you. Having these body parts removed has done a lot for me.

Today Roe v. Wade was overturned. Again taking away a woman’s right to choose

All I’ve been thinking of is that, were I living in the Red Sea, my choice to have this procedure, as ultimately live saving as it has already turned out to be, would have been nullified. Because I’m still of an age that producing a child isn’t unheard of.

Think about that. Reins on a woman’s reproductive organs doesn’t just tie to actively reproducing. It ties to our ability to reproduce. Doesn’t matter I was never going to reproduce I COULD have reproduced. So that’s reason enough to keep my body repeating these likely fatal processes.

This is not to say my choice of this procedure supersedes the choice of a rape victim or unprepared woman to terminate their pregnancy.

I’m just saying that we all find ourselves in situations where difficult decisions have to be made. I can guarantee a woman going in for an abortion isn’t doing so as a means of birth control.

And turns out. If you want fewer abortions one good way to prevent them is education and providing birth control and condoms baggage free. And actually penalizing men who rape and pillage our bodies frequently.

Tell me, Justices, Senators, and Representatives. What are your options going to be if your 17 year old daughter is raped and becomes pregnant?

What will you do then?

As I’ve been public with other places I’m on medical leave for a hot month or two following a significant surgery. If you’ve interacted with me (as an adult) you know I’m going absolutely batty not being able to work.

But look! Here’s this project I started years ago that I haven’t gotten far in…at all…because turns out reading about the deaths of millions isn’t necessarily the best thing for a majorly depressed empath.

However, I’m feeling like this book is still something that needs to happen. So I’m battening down the hatches to start working on the research and annotated bibliographies again so a book can be written about Stalin’s atrocities.

I entreat you for your help. When I start bemoaning being bored? Please encourage me to open a book and sit at the computer?

I’m not going to be able to do this without you. And this is something that needs to be done. Stat.

I’ve been mulling over this post for the better part of a week. What’s happening in Ukraine is abhorrent and just flat out murder. I am outraged. I think it’s disgusting and crimes against humanity.

Here’s a newsflash though.

I thought the same during the Arab Spring.

There are a lot of people raising battlecries and outrage today who ignored the Arab Spring where the same thing was happening. President Bashar Asaad has been doing much the same thing since 2011. Blowing up hospitals and killing people who were trying to help his victims.

So I get it. I get the outrage, but where was the outrage when the same thing was happening to brown and black people? Where’s the attention when the same thing DOES happen to brown and black people?

At least the blocks at borders to refugees that went up in record time during the Arab Spring are staying up in regards to the folks from the Ukraine.

I just … we should always be outraged when a polity deliberately targets civilians. It’s time we indiscriminately berate and cry out against indiscriminate killings whether on an international scale or a scale that’s next door.

Love thy neighbor as thyself is what some guy said. Let’s start working on our governments – of all scales – to legislate this. To get it in writing so it’s not just some hypothetical goal.

Let’s be better.