My thoughts on Mr. Troy Davis

I'm not even sure how to begin.

First of all, I'm going to say that I don't necessarily disagree with a death penalty. I don't. I have too many loved ones in professions where they put themselves out there in harm's way day in and day out to make sure *I* am safe. Police officers, military members, firemen (and women!), security guards, etc. And if someone is targeted for that reason alone (and it happens), it seems there has to be something more of a punishment on the books than"just" prison to perhaps deter someone from doing it.

That being said...

I don't know how to feel about this case. In case you think this is going to be a "it was the right thing to do, he deserved to die" post and are already on edge about it, let me assure you: it's not. I don't think it was the right thing to do. And I hope we can all learn from this and that Mr. Troy Davis can rest in peace (whether guilty or not) and I'm praying for comfort for his family.

So these are my thoughts then.

I am not going to say he was innocent or not. I don't know enough about the case (it happened the year I graduated from high school in a little rural Wisconsin town, miles away in geography and even more so in culture) except for what I've been reading up on it now. Whether he was guilty or not was not for me to say: it was those folks on the jury at the time who had to make the decision. And I cannot imagine where they are now and how they must be feeling about all of this right now too. Wonder if anyone's thought about that.

A couple of my problems are this: 1) people call it a racial thing. No, I'm not naive enough to not understand that the bias still exists and it sucks. But that jury was more black than white: 7-5, so I don't think that was the SOLE reason he got the conviction. I've read on my Twitter feeds that people feel that and that brings me to point 2) most people who are appalled or opposed have very little knowledge of this case at all. They see and hear what's in the media or on Wikipedia or any number of other sources and call foul. But how many actually study and read the history of the case and the facts before they did that? I appreciate getting behind a cause, but I think a lot of people may have gotten behind it based on other people's opinions instead of one they formed themselves.

That being said? There was way too much doubt in this case to put a man to death. Again: whether innocent or not, I don't understand why, say, a "life in prison" sentence couldn't have been an alternative now after doubts than upholding a death sentence. Folks: is it really such a reprieve to give "life in prison without parole" instead of death? Does that make that person's life so much better? In my opinion (as well a few convicts who have stated they preferred to die than to live their lives that way, year upon year without end), that could be a WORSE punishment to inflict on someone. The family of Officer MacPhail might have been okay with that sentence, had it been the one that came down at the time (and more on that later). And it at least also allows the possibility to research further in cases of innocence or doubt.

One of the problems we have is that the death sentence seems ridiculously arbitrary. A few years ago, another black man Brian Nichols (his race only a factor because of those who say this was a racist thing, nothing more), on trial for rape in this same state, who managed to get a hold of a deputy's gun and shot and killed not only the judge and deputy in the courtroom but others (in front of cameras and many witnesses), and also kidnapped and held another woman before finally surrendering. His sentence? Life in prison. So I ask, how can someone like this get that kind of sentence - when it was so much more clearly obvious he did do these things - than someone else, where there's doubt? I don't understand the discrepancy. How does this man live and another not?

People are speaking out about the family of Officer MacPhail and saying they were happy this justice was served. I want to cut them a little slack. I ask, if you think about it, you do too. It's still fresh for them, even after 20 years. If it were MY son, father, brother, friend who was killed? And the sentence that came down was life in prison? I think I would find peace with that over time and be okay. But the sentence that came down that day was death so I think I can understand how they couldn't find peace until it happened. They were grieving and didn't see the punishment fulfilled. I'm not saying it was the right punishment, but if it were me in those shoes having lost a loved one, I can understand how they might not have had the closure until now if the sentence rendered at the time didn't happen for a couple of decades. They're only humans, too, caught in this sad, sad tragedy. So I AM willing to give them allowances now for anything they say and feel until they can fully recover and move on as well. Let's not hate on them. They're victims too.

The one last thing I want to say is something I saw on a local news program, the NBC station 11Alive, this morning here in Atlanta. A local congressman said, "the people of Georgia put a possible innocent man to death last night." (I tried to find the link to post here, but cannot...so for the sake of transparency, I'm paraphrasing.) That is not true. I'm a person of Georgia for nearly 15 years now and as I admitted in the start of this post, I don't know much about the case other than what I've read in the past few months. But I do know that I had nothing to do with putting Mr. Davis to death. And I hope that most people will understand that.

And I wish this would have ended differently. Whether innocent or not? Only two people really know: Mr. Davis and God himself. And if he was innocent, in faith I believe he found welcoming arms in Heaven last night.

You're Worth It.

I have a few good girlfriends going through the same crap right now so I'm going to say this. Whether for them, a reminder to myself (we all need a reminder now and again, no?) or for someone random possibly reading this that it might pertain to as well.

Ladies, if the gentleman (or lady- depending on your preference) that you like actually likes you too? He will do something to make something happen. Yes, it was illustrated in that silly fun "He's Just Not Into You" movie, but perhaps more poignantly in the book of the same name.

If someone likes you, you'll know. He will show you. And if he doesn't? He's just not into you. So don't waste your time and move on. Even if perhaps he is and he's not up to showing you for whatever reason? Still move on. You're worthy of more. You're worthy of at least that much.

And you're definitely worth more than a booty call if you want to be more than a booty call.

Trust me on this. :-)

I remember only a few days very distinctly in my life. I think I'm blessed (and this may seem odd)... I don't remember many bad days at all. But the "everyday" day doesn't recall emotions much either. Nor do the crazy happy days. When I remember those "distinctive" days in my life, they are not good, bad or indifferent. They just come up in my memory now and again on a day like this.

I know it's so cliche to say it's my generation's turning point or conversation piece, today, 10 years after that horrible day. Mom? Sure, she knows where she was then. She also remembers where she was when Kennedy was shot. Dad was in the Korean Conflict, so he probably knows where he was not only when the armistice happened but where it was and where he was when it happened.

I was born in the very early 70s, a very safe age. I grew up in the prosperity of the 80s and didn't have that "where you were when?" until 9/11 happened 10 years ago today.

So it's going to sound callous to say that I'm privileged to know I have that now. No, I'm not happy I have it. I wish I had never had to experience that or tell my kids or grandkids or nieces and nephews who don't get it (thank God). But it also became something for me and my generation to pinpoint that part of life and time that defines us, like the Moon Landing, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Vietnam War or the Energy Crisis of the 1970s that others knew before we (you readers) or I were too young to understand. I remember the time -- right after that day on 9/11/2001-- where we stopped being Black or White; Male or Female. And we all put or flew American flags on our cars or off the front steps of our homes. We were not Christians or Muslims or Jewish or even Atheists then. We were Americans. And we still are.

I'm not so much happy as I am honored and humbled now that I know when my mama still tells me where she was when Kennedy was shot that I can tell her I knew where I was when the first attack on my homeland was. That she can tell me that story, raising me in so much love in privilege and protection, that I now can understand how she might have felt that day, just knowing how *I* felt this day, 10 years ago.

Tragedy happens in everyday life. It may be personal: your marriage or long-term relationship falls apart, you lose your house, a loved one dies. I'm a firm believer that anyone who has to go through those things has to have time to be selfish. The "woe is me!" feeling? Is so valid and should be embraced. But after you're through that...the reason WHY you went through that? Is to teach the people behind you. And you can support them too. Maybe that was the point of having to go through it.

I'm up for that task. Are you?

My 40 year-old advice to my 20-year old self

Now at 40, there are tips I'd love to give to my younger self.

1. There will never be the "perfect time" to do something. Don't put off what you want to do because you're not thin enough or rich enough or stress-free enough or whatever the other reasons are. If you wait for that time to come, it never will. Don't make life happen: let it happen

2. Never delete old photographs. I came across a scrapbook lately in where I put in a photo, writing: "I hate this picture, but a friend told me it's her favorite, so I'm including it, hoping I'll like it someday." Someday is 5 years later now....and I actually do. So keep 'em all. It might surprise you.

3. Sometimes it's OK to give someone a second chance, even against the advice of other friends. Sometimes it does work out.

4. Sometimes it's OK not to. Don't kick yourself about it; just move on.

5. There will always be people who bring up things that happened in the past, assuming that something you did or something you said years ago still defines who you are today. Pay those folks no mind. I've found those who want to be recognized that they've changed are often the ones who don't accept others do.

6. It's a waste of time to feel guilty about what you ate. It's done. Do better tomorrow.

7. The grass is never greener than in your own yard. It may look like it from your front porch looking out toward theirs, but you have no idea what's going on underneath their lawns or what they have to put on it to keep it looking that way. Tend your own yard instead.

8. A friend recently tweeted: "the only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can't achieve it." It's true.

9. You can wear any damn color at any time of the year you want to.

10. Hair does grow back. Cut bangs for kicks now and again.

11. Set yourself a simple goal you can achieve: do something once a year you wouldn't be able to do if you weren't here. I started that in college: one year, I got SCUBA certified as class credit; another I joined a sorority. Each year since I've tried something new: vacationing on my own, letting someone throw me out of an airplane (er...yes, with parachute), trying on-line dating. It doesn't matter if what you try ends up being something you stick with. Just try something new every year just for kicks.

12. When all is said and done, as long as you're not hurting anyone else, who cares what other people think?

13. Your family does not need to be your friends.

14. Even those you admire fuck up now and again. Try not to be pissed at them for it.

15. You can survive almost anything if you put your mind to it. Those broken hearts you suffered? Those pink slips that came across your desk? You'll get through it. You will. And each time you do, you'll know if it happens again, that you can do it again.

16. Please never set an age time line for yourself. When you set those parameters, it's stress you don't need. To have this career at this age? Or a home or a spouse or X.x kids? You miss out on what could actually be happening at that time. Life has no time line based on age. Work for your goals, but do not set an age limit on them.

17. You're worth more than a booty call.

18. Your family CAN be your friends.

19. Even if you're not first attracted to that person, take the date.

20. You will *never* feel "attractive enough." Even the friends I know who are gorgeous and clever and funny never feel that way about themselves either. The ones you are envious of -- for their curves, or their hair, or their flat bellies or their MBA degrees -- even they feel they're not "attractive enough." So stop waiting until you are and just love yourself for who you are.

21. The best girl friends you'll ever meet are the ones you just randomly sat down next to at a bar one day.

22. Never be afraid to go out on your own. Whether it's to have a dinner out, a beer at a bar, a play you've wanted to see. You never know who you might meet that night. Or you'll never know the great time you could have had if you had just sat home instead.

23. Being single is not a bad thing.

24. Get further education from high school. Whether it's college, a trade, the military: whatever. People say a bachelor's degree is "a dime a dozen" these days -- it's not. And an associate degree or technical degree experience is extremely worthwhile. Find something you love and invest in yourself.

25. If you still have your favorite stuffed animal as an adult? It's okay. :-)

26. Learn how to pour a beer without it overflowing. If you still miss on champagne? It's okay.

27. Your dreams will change over the course of your lifetime. At one point, you may have wanted to be a teacher. Or a doctor. Or a musician. But those dreams can change as you do and if anyone tries to say to you: "but what about that dream you had?" Remember it's okay that it may not be the same one you had a year or so ago. It does not make you a failure. It means you've changed. And that's more than OK.

28. Never stop reading or learning.

29. TV is not bad. Folks who claim "oh, I don't even HAVE a TV!" and act like they're superior for it? Don't feel like you're inferior. TV can be a great educational tool...as long as you're not watching "Jersey Shore" 24 hours a day, that is. ;-)

30. I've been to the Jersey Shore. That's not reality, folks. Don't believe everything you see or read.

31. Give an effort to love your own country. So many folks want to travel and explore other countries and that's great! But recognize -- wherever you live -- how amazing your own can be, too.

32. Mentor someone. You may have gone it alone yourself, but even if you have (especially if you have?) the best thing you can do for another person is to mentor them without expecting something in return.

33. Give in to a good cry now and again. It doesn't make you weak; it makes you human. And that's an amazing thing.

34. Have faith in a higher power.

35. Being vulnerable is not a weakness; it actually takes a strong person to show a vulnerable side. And the people you don't think would relate to you may often become your biggest supporters.

36. We all hear about "random acts of kindness" -- so much that it almost seems cliche now. But it's not. You know how I said once a year, do something different you've never done before? Once a week, just do something kind for someone. Leave a notecard on a colleague's desk saying he's appreciated. Offer to pet sit when she's going out of town. Tell a random stranger you pass on the street that you love his shoes. You never know what kind of day someone is having and what a nice gesture could mean to them.

37. Hang up your cellphone when you get to the check out lane at the grocery store. There is nothing that cannot wait for those few minutes it takes to scan your groceries. The person behind any checkout counter is *a person.* Don't dismiss them -- or anyone who serves you, be it there, at a restaurant, at your oil change place -- as some"thing" that is there to do their job. They are human beings. And at one point in your life, at your first job at 16 or even now today, YOU have been there before and people may have dismissed you as a "servant." Remember how that felt and respect the people who are there to serve you, even if you just think it's "their job." Always thank the person who bags your groceries.

38. Never underestimate the smile you can bring to another. I have a Facebook page (if you're reading this, you may know that!) but every time I post something silly or fun or "Today! In History...!" I have no idea who is reading it or not. In the past week, no less than 4 people -- who never comment on those silly posts -- told me they get smiles from it, or go explore from it, or even just check in every day to see something silly. You may never know how much you uplift other people just in being yourself. Just do it anyway.

39. Chance encounters are not. People are in your life for a reason.

40. There's no one in your life who can inspire you or define you or mean more to you than yourself. Listen to your heart, your mind, your feelings. YOU matter.

The Alphabet of Love

It's been far too long since I've blogged. So I'll start back simply with the alphabet game.

Things That Make Me Happy... Alphabet Style

(...and by stream of consciousness even)

A- Albecore Tuna: it's dolphin safe!

B- Bacon. Duh.

C- Chelsey Lately nightly recordings. She totally makes me laugh at 5am when I get up.

D- Dancing on bars. Not quite Coyote Ugly style, but better: the way the girls and I did in college.

E- Eggs. Every which way but poached. Yes, even raw in a beer. Or pickled in a UWSP bar.

F- Fat Fridays! The day you can eat anything (even deep fried Kool-Aid) without guilt.

G- Ghosts. Love me my ghost tours. Someday I hope to actually see one, gaddammit!

H- Harley, the woman. Though the bike ain't bad either.

I- Ice cream. Chocolate. Of course.

J- Jammie pants. The first thing I put on after a long day at work.

K- "Killer Queen" by Queen. You give me a quarter at the bar, this is comin' on the Jukebox.
L- Lorita Zorrita Hammen. It's a blessing to find my sorority sisters; an honor to love my natural one.
M- Momma. No one else in the world like her.

N- Novels. There is nothing better than being smack in the middle of one.

O- Oy! (could this be anything else?)

P- Poking. Not on Facebook, but the ability to poke at someone to bring down walls.

Q- Quincy, M.E. Yup, random I know. But I remember watching it with my Dad.

R- Road trips with friends

S- Sisters. Natural. Sorority. Ones you're blessed with beyond belief (yes, that's you, Hilary.)

T- Tampa, Florida. Because I have never met someone from there who is not amazing.

U- U.S.A. Not a day goes by that I don't realize how blessed I am to live here.

V- Vagina! Crude? Perhaps. But I so love being a woman.

W- Whiskeybelles: 4 of the most talented women I've ever met (yes, there are 4 now).

X- "xoxo" - because it means something when you actually type it.

Y- You. Because you're reading this.

Z- Ziplock bags! hahaha, just kidding. This one's for my Zipsis.

And I didn't even consult a dictionary. The last letter - the hardest to fill in? Was "N." Huh. Go figure. For an English major even!

For those of you who dare...it's hash talk time!

A hash trash. :-)

There is a rumor that the Savannah Hash was dead. Or dying. Or at the very least hibernating. If that was the case, then their dead and rotting corpses did a mighty fine job of advertising the Full Moon Hash (biggest! Brightest! In 18 years!) that ran last Saturday night. Visitors came from near and far. If I remember correctly, there were three from Tampa, four from Jacksonville (gay, of course), one from Secession and even one or two from Washington State. There were two from Atlanta, one from the Trash, even two from Baltimore and of course, the coolest of the Savannah folks, nevermind the thousands of little nosees who showed up at the start but claimed they were leaving every 10 minutes.

Knowing that meet was 6:30, off at 7:35, those of us coming from the island were a little worried about making the start in time, what with traffic. Your scribe actually was stupid enough to ask Git In My Bed: “do y’all start trail on time here?” The incredulous look was response enough. And it was true. We waited for the sun to set and the moon to come up, it being nearly 8:30 before we actually headed out. The actual lunar body (biggest! Brightest! In 18 years!) was actually a bit of a let down; luckily (not so luckily?), Squats and Swallows provided his own bright pasty moon as substitute until it could rise to the occasion.

Our hares were Tequila Tony and Just Pauline (for now) and they promised us a true Savannah-style Full Moon hash –clothing optional—and a 3.5 on the shiggy scale. Half-excited and half-nervous, we watched our nekkid hares throw down some life jackets (“just in case you’re not a swimmer type”) and gave them their mandatory (“10 minutes!!”) 20 minute head start before following them. With the full moon providing less light than anticipated and the pack having about 2.5 flashlights total among them (RV’s breasts have to count for .5 on their own, no?), we all pretty much stuck together. Little did we know at this point that we would have no worry about a well-lit trail later on.

So off we went, starting down a bit of road until we shimmied over a concrete wall and went down into the woods. These woods on a shiggy-rating were NOT the 3.5 we were promised (warned of?). But given that a good quarter of the pack were crazy cool enough to actually shed their clothes (oh! The things we do for a free t-shirt!), this was not necessarily a bad thing. There were some step-overs and what we here in Atlanta call hamsterland (or maybe it’s just your scribe). And at one point, Goo Lite Special did run ahead and warn us into a detour so we all wouldn’t fall on our faces like she did (or was it the person in front of her? Hmmm. Well, in this story, it was both of them). We twisted and winded through the lightly-covered trees and shrubs, the pack pretty much all staying together and chatting along the way. Every once in a while there was a call of “let the nekkid people go ahead!” only to have those behind (with the flashlights) then call out “egads! Why did we let the nekkid people get ahead?!” Nonetheless, we all pretty much got safely into the beer check/stop without too many bumps, bruises or cuts.

Beers were had and there was fun chatter. Then off we went again – and in this scribe’s surprise, there was beer left! We distributed them for the rest of the trail, making sure to take our garbage with us. Cause, hey. We’re cool like that.

And this is where the fun began. Remember that a good quarter of the pack was nekkid? And there was no light? Well, that changed quite quickly as we shimmied around some woodlands, over a bit of sand dune and into another (quite young or thin) wooded area. Because this is when the night lit up in bright light!

Was it finally the moon? (biggest! Brightest! In 18 years!) Was it just Squats again, bending over and lighting the way? Nope. It was a Coast Guard helicopter, secretly arranged by the hares so we could have light for the rest of the trail.

Or, rather, not.

Props to the Coast Guard for noticing a dozen plus vehicles at the start and thinking something must be going on in the area (seriously, though. Four “no trespassing” signs are not nearly enough!). They circled around until they hit us spot on – and hopefully got blinded right back by all the full moons not in the sky but a couple feet from the ground…and moving at that! The pack froze; we “hid” in the trees that proved not to be trees at all; we were pretty much in full view. And we were at a point where we were to cross a completely clear, er, clearing, before we could get back undercover again. So, of course, we froze.

After about a minute of that (the ‘copter circling closer and closer), we realized we were being ridiculous. Like they couldn’t see us? With their bright-as-the-sun light right in our faces? There were shouts of “oh my god! They’re gonna land!” (hee!) and “Crap! What are we going to do?” (um…finish trail, I reckon) and then we realized: most of us have been through this before….they really couldn’t arrest all of us.

Could they?

Awesome clothed harriers whipped off their shirts to cover the nekkid harriets up and we all hastened back to the start (some folks moving the fastest they had all night!), fully expecting to see a cop there when we arrived. Surprisingly, no. In fact, everyone came in and had a beer or three; we even cracked out the orange food and hot dogs and set up a table in the middle of the road where we were going to start ceremony. I’m guessing now, but it had to be at least 30-40 minutes until an officer finally did show, and then it was only to ask us to leave. Score! No arrests!

But it did mean we had to find another location for circle. After all, Savannah was alive again! And Just Pauline was to get named this night. We packed up (probably everything but Goo’s red vessel – who the heck had that anyway?) and headed to a McSomething bar in the western end of the historic district. At this point, RV remembered her friends owned Blaine’s Backdoor Bar and arranged for us to have a semi-private area of the place (on a Saturday night even!) in order to continue the festivities.

We lost the Baltimore harriets on the way (if I ever see them again, they’re getting punished for leaving us), but most of the pack made it there. We did trail talk and then came the naming. Questions asked, deliberation ensued and long-time named hashers took it outside to come up with a perfect, albeit “pretty” name for Just Pauline: now and forever known as Innocent Until Drunk (OMG! She’s another IUD!). I personally wanted to add “and always drunk” to the end of that, but it didn’t fly. RV, realizing there was no flour, quickly thought on her feet and got some instant potatoes from the kitchen for the naming. She also quickly got a mop when Innocent Until Drunk took her tequila shot (hey! She asked for it!) and then promptly spewed all over the floor.

Overall, a fantastic time. The shiggy meter was incorrect: most of us who have been hashing for years realized it was more a 1.5 than a 3.5….but, again, considering nekkidness and scrapes on boobs and balls? Not such a bad thing. A big thanks to our hares for laying trail, fellow hounds for making it a blast, the GM/RAs who ran a great circle and the Savannah Hash for letting us all invade your city with our own personal little madness.

If Savannah is “dead?” Stay dead, my friends. Because you rock that way. And until next time? On-on!

Screw you, Savannah, Georgia. I hate you.

With a passion right now.

So I got a frickin' parking ticket this weekend -- and lemme tell you, folks: I'm innocent. I know, I know, we all are, always. But I really am. Like, to the point where I took photographs and everything of how the car was positioned, what they wrote on the ticket, etc. They leave a little number that says: "you have the right to contest this - call 651-6470, yadda yadda." So I do. (bloody backwards city, you might want to use an area code too.)

And I'm told: "oh, that was an *officer* who left that; we can't do anything. we would have no idea where you were parked."

I tell them: "oh, I do. guess what? It even has the address on this form! and I have photos, too."

I'm still told to call the police.

Oh, and she was a complete bitch about it. She didn't even know the police number (yeah, right) so gave me an info number instead.

Okeedokee then.

So, I call 411 instead, get the Savannah police number, who, in turn, tell me that they have nothing to do with it. And guess who I should call? The number on the ticket. I actually mention that I did go the other route and they were a little dumbfounded that I was directed to them. I'll give them credit: the POs were nice. But they, too, said that there really isn't anything they can do. That I could ask for a court date....but that usually because it's only $15, people just pay it.

Uh-huh. Exactly. What a frickin' scam. Which is what I told her, too. She was actually very nice and kinda agreed with me and said something relating to the fact that it is kind of a ruckus.

But because no one will actually let me talk to someone, I have no way to even ask for a court date.

I hate you, bloody city of Savannah!

Not only that, but if you don't pay within 5 days? You get a $15 fine on top of that. So, yup. It's 4 days ago now - and because I don't live in fucking Savannah - I will now owe $30 for something I didn't do. Because the backasswards city doesn't even have a website you CAN just go pay it at. Oh now. You gotta mail in a fucking check. Who has checks these days?! And, in any case, how the heck is it going to get to another city and processed in 5 days if you're from out of town? (Even PO agreed that was kinda lame)

If I HAD done wrong, I get it. But I didn't. I have about 20 photographs to prove it. But I can't do buttkiss[sic] about it.

Screw you, Savannah. I hope y'all choke on yourselves and your bloody citations.