Tiptoe through the window, By the window, that’s where I’ll be, Come tiptoe through the tulips with me. ~ Al Dubin & Joe Burke
I don’t know why this song was on my mind as I walked this morning. I must have wanted someone to walk with me, but I didn’t see a single tulip. The eye-catching beauty of the day was the ubiquitous azalea in all its glorious shades and hues and not one blooming at the same pace as another, rather like people, no?
I ponder as I walk. Whatever pops in gets a bit of my time. Today it was a bizarre incident from yesterday when I went shopping to pick up a couple of things I needed. As I was entering the doors of the store a sixty-ish white male walked briskly past me and tossed out, “What’s a liberal doing at the Wal-Mart?” He didn’t slow down for an answer which is just as well since I stood there like a deer in the headlights wondering what the hell he meant. Oh, yeah. I have an Obama sticker on my car so he felt free to comment as if it were any of his business. I decided I should come up with a retort for future reference in case there are others who feel inclined to challenge my views in public. I thought of quite a few but most would not be appropriate as they would lower me to his level. I decided on–“I find that question rather strange. Why would you ask me that?” I wonder what he would have done if I’d yelled, “Help! Police!” After all I did feel somewhat accosted, threatened by him.
The fact that I felt threatened makes me a little sad, I think. It speaks to the notion that I can still be intimidated by the physically stronger male in society. Why is that? I don’t really think I was physically in any danger. If I were to take him on verbally and intellectually I would smash him like a bug.
Okay. I’ve worked through the sadness. Don’t have time for that. Now I’m damned angry and I’m putting on my armor. As soon as I finish this post I’m going to order t-shirts and yard signs and visors and everyone I meet will know I’m voting for Barack Obama. I’m prepared to discuss it sanely with those who care to talk. Those who simply want to stir it up are going to know I’ve been stirred. (BTW, there’s nothing passive about that last sentence!) Bring’em on!
Note: This last photo is obviously not an azalea. It’s a Lady Banks Rose and it blooms profusely every spring. Then I whack it off and wait for it to come back next year. I love it anew every spring. It makes my heart sing.