The Casa is not a political place, as by the very term, politics are divisive and we’re all about inclusion. That’s not to say we don’t have strong opinions. I have been considering carefully the words I would employ after the election, and determined to say the exact same thing regardless of the outcome.
Since the beginning, the purpose of my page has been to be a refuge from both the incessant negative and the cloyingly sweet; you know, real life. With the vitriol expressed by both sides since last Tuesday, it’s very difficult to create a positive post; honestly, I expected much better from the followers of Charlie Bravo.
Concerning the gloaters: we have all seen the excessive celebration and dancing when a football player scores a touchdown, and I always think of think of the advice, “act like you’ve been there before”, and go about your business. But concerning the whiners, “act like you plan on being there again”. It’s all a cycle, and soon you will find yourself back in the end zone.
A friend is a friend, regardless of a difference of opinion, and the term “unfriending” smacks of such petulance that I can scarcely use it. Really? After all we’ve been through, to let a temporary situation divide us this easily? Why not concentrate of what connects us and not what divides us? On the other hand, the profane and downright disgusting posts that clog the Internet and airwaves are a real reason to separate myself, and I will, as one becomes what one feeds on.
Well, I’m backing away from the bowl; I’m just a tiny Chark in a vast buffet of negativity, but I am going to use that chark until it becomes a larger CHARK. Some may remember when others ridiculed Rodney King’s plaintive plea, “can’t we all just get along?”, but such a seemingly simplistic solution is sounding pretty succulent these days.
“We be of one blood, ye and I”; not just a catchy phrase written by Rudyard Kipling over a century ago, but a creed that binds us beyond our differences.
Oh, and by the way: I’m the “Her” in the title of this post, and I refuse to wear a pantsuit; how could I continue to air my loins with such restriction?