I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: The Way Life Should Be

  • setting boundaries with Molly

    setting boundaries with Molly


    Family times on our screened porch this summer have been far and few between, as my cousin Martin used to say, but Labor Day weekend Number One Son Drew brought his two daughters almost 3 year old Ella and 7 months old Molly for a visit with their Nanas for a final pool fling. While Daddy Drew and Ella took a bathroom break, Pretty captured my efforts to teach Molly the importance of boundaries.

    Naynay, why are your eyes always watering?

    Maybe you have something in there

    Naynay, stop talking about my fingernails – not nice

    Ok, Naynay – is this better?

    Naynay, please stop talking about boundaries

    Can anyone help me keep Naynay from talking about boundaries?

    What’s a boundary?

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

    For the children. Slava Ukraini.

  • Serena Wins!

    Serena Wins!


    Jumping for joy following her win, Serena Williams flashes the multi-million dollar smile toward the stands overflowing with fans who are thrilled to have tickets to witness the historic match. US Open 2022 at Ashe Stadium in New York City?

    Ding, ding, ding. No, Serena tennis trivia fans. I watched the championship match between Williams and Li Na in the 2014 Sony Open a/k/a Miami Masters at the Tennis Center at Crandon Park in Key Biscayne, Florida this morning in my I can’t get enough of her greatness obsession by binging the Salute to Serena this week on The Tennis Channel (the unlucky loser in the battle with ESPN for live coverage of the US Open in 2022). If you can tear yourself away from the ESPN app, catch a few glimpses of Serena in her younger, more powerful years. She was, simply, amazing.

    The 2014 win was historic because it was her seventh title at the event – the number of wins she shared at that time with Chris Evert, Martina Navratilova and Steffi Graf. She won in straight sets by defeating the Chinese player Li Na – closing the second set with an awesome ace. Classic Serena shot that has been her trademark over the past 27 years. Interestingly, Li Na retired following this loss. Also interesting, Novak Djokovic won the men’s singles title in the same tournament that year.

    Last night as Serena began what she refers to as her “evolution” away from tennis, Pretty and I sat watching from our den comfy chairs while she sweated in the summer heat of New York on Ashe Stadium in a first round singles match of the 2022 US Open, the final major of the year. I was as nervous for her as a whistleblower testifying for the January 6th congressional committee against an ex-president. I could scarcely breathe until she won.

    The victory jump may not have been quite as high as the one in the 2014 Miami tournament, the tennis attire may have been more sparkly, but the powerful ferocity that is Serena, the passionate love of the game of tennis, and the flashes of brilliance in that game last night showed why she continues to play in this fourth decade of her life. Would I dearly love for Serena Williams to win her 24th. Major title before she leaves the game? Absolutely. 100%.

    But if she doesn’t, I am grateful to have watched this force of nature not only overcome obstacles to participate in the world of professional tennis but also help to change that world and the game forever. Rock on, Serena. Pretty and I are in your corner.

    2016 Olympics

  • 2022: the Year in Review (well, so far)

    2022: the Year in Review (well, so far)


    Let’s rap.

    Two thousand twenty-two, I’m worried now ’bout you.

    You’re two-thirds done and not too fun.

    so where the heck have you gone?

    (rhythm band in background doing their best to find one)

    A new war in Ukraine with Russia to blame.

    Killing children at will with no sense of shame.

    bombing nuclear plants without any aim.

    (rhythm band in background stops and says in unison Seriously?

    bombing nuclear plants?)

    Two thousand twenty-two, I’m worried now ’bout you.

    You’re burning, you’re flooding, we shy away from the sights

    you’ve allowed the Supremes to take away rights.

    (rhythm band in background shakes their heads and wags fingers)

    Two thousand twenty-two, I’m really worried now

    our minds are blown by what we’ve found

    An ex-pres has taken secrets you shouldn’t have allowed.

    (rhythm band in background shake tambourines furiously)

    Two thousand twenty-two, number of months remaining four.

    we’re sick and tired of Covid and of you we implore

    give us a break from chills and fevers and muscles that are sore.

    (rhythm band in background nod approvingly, clapping hands)

    And if you don’t mind, here’s the last ax to grind.

    Two thousand twenty-two, you’re moving way behind

    We’re watching, we’re rapping, to make sure you get in line.

    (rhythm band moves into foreground to take bow – why, Liz Cheney is leading the band)

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

    Yikes – I’m clearly not a rapper. Please stay tuned – I’ll do better.

  • Dimples, Butch, Buttercup, Sissy… Sissy?

    Dimples, Butch, Buttercup, Sissy… Sissy?


    Whenever someone asks me what I’m writing, I feel a fleeting twinge of guilty laziness for saying I continue to blog – no new book of essays, no great American novel, no legacy book for my granddaughters. This is me self publishing using the same platform I’ve had for thirteen years. Never reaching 2,000 followers but loving my local and international friends who faithfully hang with me. Averaging 150 hits per post in 2022, sometimes more in other years, sometimes fewer. Somewhere along the way I found a voice, but the Boomer passion for individual achievement in the realm of literature that produced six books is mixed now with the seasoned settling of comforting routines that continue to produce my cyberspace conversations. If I ever changed my mind about publishing a new collection of my flash nonfiction, I promise the following post from the archives would be included.

    Pretty, the great Treasure Hunter, occasionally brings home items that fascinate. One such find  was two versions of a board game I played as a child growing up in rural Grimes County, Texas in the mid twentieth century. Before the television set took over as our main form of entertainment, my family played all kinds of games from dominoes to gin rummy to board games Santa Claus left for me under the tree at Christmas. One of our family favorite board games was Go to the Head of the Class which was supposedly “educational” as well as fun. With school teacher parents, I played tons of “educational” games.

    fifth series copyrighted in 1949 by Milton Bradley, publisher

    The game was originally played with tokens that were cardboard images of children attached to wooden bases. Each game had 8 tokens, and their pictures were on the book that contained the questions.

    (top row, l. to r.) Sissy, Dimples, Liz and Butch

    (bottom row, l. to r.) Sonny, Buttercup, Susie and Red

    Sissy

    I can’t find the edition when publisher Milton Bradley eliminated the unsmiling player named Sissy, but I can assure you it would have been the last token picked in my family. Buttercup would have run a close second to the last.

    Take a good look at Sissy, the little boy whose two obvious distinguishing features were that he wore glasses and parted his hair down the middle like the little girl tokens.

    I remembered Jim Blanton’s essay in Southern Perspectives on the Queer Movement: Committed to Home where he talked about growing up in Gaffney, South Carolina and being called “sissy” as a child and teenager by bullies in school. Words, labels that cause pain.

    I’m sure my parents were oblivious to the subtle cultural messages being sent to me in our educational games, but for me this game was one more nail in the coffin of internalized homophobia and intentional segregation in my childhood. Never any people of color as the tokens. No one wanted to be known as a “sissy,” and how could I explain to anyone why I always picked “Butch” first?

    This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is img_20220827_150432507_hdr.jpg

    not sure where this picture of me was taken or why – 

    did I already feel different?

    Be aware of bias and labels that hurt. Be kind to each other. Be safe this weekend.

    Stay tuned.

  • if you’re a lesbian on the back side of thirty, the short side of time – speak now or forever hold your regret

    if you’re a lesbian on the back side of thirty, the short side of time – speak now or forever hold your regret


    Greetings to all my friends in cyberspace,

    Forgive this commercial interruption intended for my lesbian sisters who I hope will stop for a moment, look at the B-E Collection website and then volunteer to speak out about our experiences not only in the workplace but also other topics of interest recorded in the collection.

    Dianne Barrett and her wife Margaret Elfering began the ambitious task of preserving the stories of lesbians who are over 30 years old with particular emphasis on their careers while widening the scope of topics to include couples in long term relationships/partnerships/marriages and most recently reaction to the overturn of Roe v Wade.

    My personal adventures are included on their website in two places: “The Interviews” (which I thought went well but bring popcorn) and “Your Vote is your Voice” (which channeled my disastrous Southern Baptist preacher upbringing). Yikes! You decide.

    I strongly encourage you to contact Dianne to schedule an interview! No one will ask you for a monetary contribution to anything, which is happy news in these mid-term election asks. Plus, you will have an awesome opportunity to tell your own story in a non threatening environment which can be powerful as well as liberating. And maybe even fun!

    Speak now, or forever hold your regret to pass on a chance to make your voice heard.

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

    Stay safe, stay sane and please stay tuned.