There are only two days left in the month of May. That’s only two days until Pride month if you live by the queer calendar. June is Pride month or Pride season if you will. To many who identify as LGBTQ+ it is license to celebrate with kick ass parties, festivals, and bar bashes. Some would paint a pretty picture and have us believe that the season swells with love, inclusivity, and a glittery rainbow of commonality between allies and community. Well, I am here to tell you that that depends on whom you ask.
There is inherent power in telling a story. It matters not if the story is good or bad, fiction or a someone’s living truth. What matters to many is the outcome – namely how the reader or listener feels or responds after absorbing the words. What matters to me mostly is how a story is told. Therein lies the truest command of a teller of tales.
August in the Midwest can be a relatively gentle time on the farm despite the ripening of much of the produce. Kitchens are busy with canning tomatoes as quick as they drop from the vine and between the sounds of back porch corn shucking and the screen door slamming, batches of apple butter and fruit preserves are being put up to carry the family through until next season. Mason jars still warm from the pressure cooker and rich with the colors and the labors of the season are taken down the road and exchanged with neighbors and relatives amid bushels of tomatoes and apples and that oft repeated “just won’t be able to get to all this” during gravel driveway conversations of catching up that last just long enough to stay on top of the latest and are always cut short because, “you know how it is. Got to get back to it.”
I opened the front door to let the cat outside. Somehow I’d missed that there was rain in the forecast. An unexpected rain is always an agreeable interruption to my day, or night for that matter. Often rain can be an emetic in times when one wishes to purge one’s self from the remnants of a difficult day or simply relax. There is something truly releasing about a rain in any season. I would gladly permanently trade the piercing sun for any form of rain if given the choice.
Personally, I am willing to listen to the two sides of every conversation. I am nothing if not fair in that aspect. I have little patience for blatant disregard for others who don’t; and that brings me to this post today.
To those of you posting on my feeds or sending me DMs, this post is for you. If you are intent on doing nothing but slamming the GOP, just stop. Seriously. If you actually think that I believe Republicans as a whole are evil or bad or whatever word you want to use, or that the entire party should “go away” and you think I’m going to ride that train with you, then you don’t know me at all.