I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

For any who want more, complete list of all posts by month since 2011
  • for Men – I’ve got a secret for your eyes only

    for Men – I’ve got a secret for your eyes only


    Donald Trump is a 78-year-old man whose memory is much like mine because I’m also 78 years old and therein lies the first and only trait I share with the former president who is a convicted felon. I know for 100% certainty I shouldn’t be President of the United States. I can’t remember what I just had for breakfast this morning, and Donald Trump can’t remember slamming Detroit when he was in Detroit.

    And yet, guys, you overwhelmingly support him. I think I know why, and it’s not what you usually say when asked about your potential vote.

    “We need a strong leader” is code for women can’t be strong leaders.

    “Trump will make our borders more secure” is code for “illegal aliens” are taking our jobs.

    “Crime is out of control” is code for Harris is weak on criminals.

    And on and on.

    Psst. Here’s my theory for why men aren’t supporting Kamala Harris. Vice President Harris is a mixed-race woman, a female who doesn’t know her place.

    Think about it. Why else would men want to vote for an old man who struggles to know what day it is – much less can tell you what NATO stands for.

    That’s my secret, and I’m sticking with it. But I hope I’m wrong. Come on, man. Please. Think outside the Trump box.

  • women hang in there, no matter what – and now we VOTE

    women hang in there, no matter what – and now we VOTE


    We survive war and conquest; we survive colonization, acculturations,
    assimilation; we survive beating, rape, starvations, mutilation, sterilization,
    abandonment, neglect, death of our children, our loved ones, destruction of
    our land, our homes, our past, and our future. We survive, and we do more
    than just survive. We bond, we care, we fight, we teach, we nurse, we bear,
    we feed, we earn, we laugh, we love, we hang in there, no matter what.

    —— Paula Gunn Allen,

    The sacred hoop: recovering the feminine in American Indian traditions

    “A nation is not conquered until the hearts of its women are on the ground.”

    traditional Cheyenne saying

    *************************

    Photo by Vincent Tan on Pexels.com

    Speak up. Speak out. We’re not going back.

    VOTE

  • Hurricane Helene, Israel v Iran, lives well lived, first and 10 for Coach Walz tonight – and one special birthday

    Hurricane Helene, Israel v Iran, lives well lived, first and 10 for Coach Walz tonight – and one special birthday


    Headlines scary for high stakes happenings in the past week – my head is rotating at warp speeds that add well-defined layers to my general free-floating anxiety. Missiles in the Middle East, final sounds of a Sunday morning going down for British actor Maggie Smith and Texas songwriter/actor Kris Kristofferson, Hurricane Helene ravaging the states in the Southeastern section of the United States, a Veep debate tonight between a high school teacher/coach who became governor of Minnesota and a venture capitalist fiction writer who became a senator from Ohio. The mind races to absorb the twists and turns of a world gone mad in many ways to this nonfiction writer who actually voted for a President Jimmy Carter in 1976, a man who celebrates his 100th birthday today.

    But yesterday Pretty and I took a break from the troubles of Hurricane Helene which miraculously left us safe and relatively sound to spend the day with our granddaughter Ella who didn’t have school because the school had no power, her home had no power, but her grandmothers’ home was loaded with fun and power. How old will you be tomorrow, my darling girl? I’ll be 5, Naynay!

    All pool toys had been put up over the weekend, but Ella couldn’t wait for next year to christen the new pool liner so…out she and her Nana came for an afternoon fling on her birthday eve.

    Ella always brings the joy when she visits, and yesterday was icing on the “pretend” birthday cake. She and her Nana had fun with fashion shows, body paintings, gathering acorns while they might from our gigantic oak tree that withstood the winds of Hurricane Helene but mostly they both celebrated their love of the swimming pool. Brrrr is all I can say.

    I was thrilled when Ella finally allowed me for the first time in her five years to completely read a book that she chose. She loved it so much she asked me to read it again. The book? 101 Dalmatians.

    Soon she will be reading it to me. I can’t wait!

    Happy Birthday, Ella – your Nana and I love you to the moon and back.