Month: November 2014

Black Thursday

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 2 Comments

I am happy to admit, my Christmas shopping is done and every gift wrapped! I know, some of you are envious, others think I’m a bit type A (maybe a little). But here is the truth. I can’t stand Black Friday, oh wait I meant Black Thursday! Yep, our generous retailers are doing us a favor – moving Black Friday to Thursday, Thanksgiving night no less. The one day families like to gather and show thanks for all life has brought, is this year turning into a race for the bargain. To hell with giving thanks. I’ll be thankful after I elbow my way to that great savings deal on the shelf.  It’s a scam.

According to Tiffany Hsu of the LA Times, “The weekend is crowded with misleading promotions, including deceptive discounts off misstated “original” prices and deals that could have been had a year earlier, according to NerdWallet.”

 And Suzanne Kapner of The Wall Street Journal explains it well in her article, The Dirty Secret of Black Friday ‘Discounts’. 

We, dear consumers have been duped. I’ve been backing away from Black Friday for several years but when it became Black Thursday, I said, “Enough.”  I know some will say, “I love it. I get up at 3:00 am and it’s a blast, puts me in the Christmas spirit.”

  Yeah…if one considers obnoxious, belligerent, elbowing, rude-ass people fighting over toys or parking spaces a mood setter for Christmas. More power to you.

Me? I shall be kicking my heels up on the ottoman, in front of a fire, and enjoying a hot hottie or two.

Oh, might I suggest you wear extra padding, those elbows get pretty sharp.

Descent into Madness

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / Leave a comment

I watched in horror as the City of Ferguson Missouri burnt nearly to the ground. The reason? People (80% of Ferguson citizens) outraged and at the urging of Michael Browns step-father set it afire. Why? The Grand Jury, after 3 months, of deliberation in concert with the FBI decided the evidence did not warrant an indictment of the police officer, Darren Wilson.

Now I support peaceful protest. Our constitution affords us that right. However, the peaceful protestors were run over and taken hostage by violent thugs. And yes, I will call them thugs. Twenty-five businesses were destroyed, more than fourteen people injured, and 60 plus people arrested. Prior to the decision Brown’s family issued a statement for calm but when the decision went against them, the mother threw a fit, and the step-father screamed “burn this bitch down,” instigating violence and acts of arson.

I understand the grief of losing a child to violence. But Michael Brown was no child. He was a 300 lb. man. And he was no ‘gentle giant’. He was a criminal and a thug.

The evidence showed Brown, who had just committed a crime including roughing up the proprietor, attacked the officer while he sat in his car. Evidence showed early witnesses were completely discredited and other African Americans came forward to tell the truth, because as one stated, he was ‘disgusted by the lies’.

But the family, the race baitors like Al Sharpton did not want to hear the truth and they sure weren’t interested in justice. They were out for blood, literally as demonstrated from the violence, bullets and acts of arson which ran through the night.

And today? Again, it’s criticism of the police force. Why didn’t they stop this. Well let’s see. They tried the first time and was accused of militarization of the city. The President in his remarks, shockingly made before he heard the prosecutor lay out all the evidence, half-heartedly called for calm. He then stoked the fires by making remarks like, “The police need to work with the citizens not work against them.” He and his minion Eric Holder have been complicit in stoking the fires of racism from the start.

And let us not forget Governor Jay Nixon who days after the incident and before any investigation was completed called for a “vigerous prosecution.” In addition, on the worst night of violence after preparing for the National Guard to be on hand, was no where to be found. He, the only one with power to send in the guard, could not be reached by anyone. So the city burned down. What a spineless piece of work.

When was the last time such a ruckus was made by the White House over  Blacks shooting whites? Two cases in point: the black gang members who carjacked police officer Kevin Quick  of Virginia and killed him. Or the New Jersey teenager Brendan Devlin who was gunned down by a self-proclaimed jihadist. Yet, the President remained silent as did good old Al Sharpton. Then the President went on to imply  changing the police force  with equal representation of whites and blacks would make a difference. What?! Really?

Police officers are in cities like Ferguson because they are laden with crime. Black on black crime. Let’s talk about that and grown men taking responsibility instead of trying to lynch an innocent man who simply did his job.

When you have a city laden with crime and men who refuse to exert themselves to change their lives by committing to an education and striving for excellence, their future will never improve. Putting them on the police force for political expediency will change nothing.  Don’t bother giving me the song and dance of “Whoa is me, I’m underprivileged, poor, or discriminated against”.  I don’t buy it. We have a nation of people who have crawled up from despair and poverty to make something of themselves. Even immigrants flood this country seeking to improve their life. Some walking hundreds of miles for the opportunities they seek. What have these men and women of Ferguson done to improve their plight? They destroyed the city and the very livelihood many fought so hard to build. One African American man cried as he walked through the rubble of his business, “How will I feed my family now”?

What is and has transpired in Ferguson is a crime and should be met with the full impact of the law. Those who instigated, rioted and destroyed  businesses  should be dealt with promptly. If it takes police in military gear or the national guard – do it, be swift and certain.

If the people of Ferguson want equal treatment, stop acting like thugs and criminals and start acting like people who respect the law. Act like you have sense God gave a goat!

When our society allows this kind of criminal activity, racial agitators like Al Sharpton with back door access to the President continue unabated, when newspapers, reporters and social media try and convict without evidence, when behavior is excused in the guise of  violent protests for past or perceived wrongs – our country has descended into madness.

Thanks for the Laughs

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / Leave a comment

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Grateful and Guilty.”

Whether it’s a trashy TV show, extra-pulpy fiction, or nutrient-free candy, write a thank-you note to your guiltiest guilty pleasure

Dearest Comedian,

I wanted to thank you for the laughs. In the midst of the craziness of my life and our country, you make my days lighter. For a short time, I am able to listen (via headphones because not everyone likes your language) and escape the madness.

Sometimes I laugh out loud ( get funny looks when I’m out), but I don’t care. For those few minutes or hours, I get to listen to you talk about things most won’t say out loud and paint a picture that moves me to laughter, and tears of unbridled glee.

Although I do on occasion let a particular word or two, maybe three (who’s counting) slip; it is so much easier to let you do the talking. I realize my behavior may be considered inappropriate, unchristian, listening to trash  or even sinful by some. I say even God has a sense of humor and for anyone who says otherwise, well… let them walk around constipated with a prune face. For me, I’ll stay tuned with a laugh at the ready.

Your most grateful,

Uncensored Comedy Fan

Let Me Buy You a Cup of Coffee

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 8 Comments

DAILY PROMPT: Good Tidings
Present-day you meets 10-years-ago you for coffee. Share with your younger self the most challenging thing, the most rewarding thing, and the most fun thing they have to look forward to.

The younger woman stood hesitantly in the open door. I studied her fair, unblemished complexion, her long, thick, strawberry-blond hair, and felt a twinge of grief for the lost years of my youth.  Her eyes widen in surprise and apprehension as ours locked.

I stood to greet her, “Thank you for coming,” I said.

She pulled out a chair. “A bit creepy but,” she shrugged, “As they say, Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Coffee?”

“Don’t drink coffee but I’ll take an iced tea.”

Surprised she hadn’t come in with a sweet tea in her hand, I turned toward the bar. “Be right back,” I said, remembering the large cup of tea I carried for years like a pacifier.

“God I love this stuff,” she said taking a long, satisfying sip. “Sooo, this is how I’m going to look in ten years?”

“Hope you’re not disappointed,” I said, swallowing the coffee and temptation to pull out my compact. “I do try to keep my appearance appealing.” Even at this old age, I wanted to add.

She shook her head, extending her hand as if to grab back her words. “Oh Lord no, I didn’t mean you looked bad,” she said stumbling over her words. “I meant you look great for a woman your age. I’m glad to know wrinkles don’t run in the family.”

My face heated up under her scrutiny. A woman of my age? Great.

Her eyes narrowed behind the straw. “You don’t do Botox do you?”

I laughed feeling the tension release. “Not yet, but I’m evaluating its merits.”

Leaning back, she crossed her arms. “So how does this work? You give me the lowdown on my future, how to avoid mistakes, get rich, marry the right man, what?”

“No, wish I could. Those decisions have already been written into history. As they say,” I couldn’t resist mimicking her own sarcasm, “That ship has sailed.”

“Then what’s the point of this little tête-à-tête?”

“Give you a heads up, help you learn from my mistakes, I don’t know. I guess it was a chance offered I couldn’t refuse either.”

She sat her tea down and stared at me.  “Well me, what will my life be like? I guess you’re gonna tell time flies, smell the roses, that sort of thing.”

I shrugged, “It’s true, time does fly. In the blink of an eye, you’ll be this grey-haired woman you’re staring at in with skepticism. I can’t tell you what your life will become. I can, however, share three things: the most challenging, most rewarding, and the most fun thing you have to look forward over the next ten years. Interested?”

She rolled her eyes, “Okay great, hit me.”

No wonder mom hated me rolling my eyes. I swallowed my annoyance. “I don’t have all the answers, but I can start by sharing your most rewarding experience.” I smiled at the memory. “When you hold your first grandchild.”

She leaned forward, her mouth open in surprise. “I’ll be a grandmother? Boy or girl?”

“I won’t reveal that surprise but I’ll tell you, to hold your first grandchild is amazing. Watching them grow, spoiling them, feeling such unconditional love and hearing them call you Nana,” My eyes pooled with tears, “Is incredible.”

“Not sure I wanna be called Nana and definitely NOT grandma, but I’m sure I can come up with something that doesn’t scream old.” 

I laughed and took a swig of cold coffee. Grimacing, I pushed it aside. “You’ll love Nana,” I said. I reached across touching her hand. “Grandkids are wonderful, but you’re gonna face some tough challenges too, prepare yourself.”

Her brow wrinkled in concern. “Why, what happens?”

My voice broke.  “You’ll lose someone very close to you.”

A look akin to fear clouded her eyes and she drew her hand away. “Who?”

I shook my head. “That I can’t tell you but it will be hard. It will happen quickly and nothing you do will change the outcome. This loss will shatter your foundation, make you question God, your faith, and shake your trust in people.”

Her chest heaved with anger and anxiety. “Why would you tell me such horrible shit?”

“Because I want you to enjoy the moments. Catalog memories and fortify your faith. It will get you through the darkest days.”

“You said one of the most…”

“Oh, there’ll be others, but mostly it’s life. Shit happens.” I glanced at my watch. Time was almost over and I didn’t want to leave her anxious, fearful of her future.  “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. Don’t dwell on the negatives. You’ll have many happy, fun and treasured times ahead, focus on those.”

She let out a breath and picked up her tea. “Good to know my life isn’t going to be all doom and gloom.”

“Not at all. Besides the fun times you  share with your daughters and grandchildren, the most fun thing you will do is something you will write on a bucket list.”

“Oh my God, I’m already writing a bucket list? Jesus, what aren’t you telling?”

I burst out laughing. “Oh lots, but you’re gonna love this one. The most fun thing you can look forward to is a ten-day trip to Paris with your daughter.”

Her excited exclamation resonated throughout the coffee shop. “Holy shit! Really? I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. In fact, I told my husband, I swear, before I die I will go to Paris, with or without you.”

“I know you did and you will. It will be the trip of a lifetime. The two of you will have so much fun. This trip will create the kind of memories that feed your soul, I promise.”

She sat back, a dreamy look on her face. “Wow, Paris.”

I scooted my chair back, rising.

She jumped up knocking her chair over and grabbed my arm. “Wait, please don’t go. I want to, no I need to hear more, please.”

I patted her hand, leaned in and brush the younger cheek of myself with a kiss. “I’m sorry, I can’t and besides there isn’t enough time to tell you all the crooks and turns life has in store for you. Remember, you’re a smart, independent woman with a tremendous capacity to love. You don’t always show it, most people don’t, but I’m giving you a heads up. Learn.”

I gave her a hug, lingering a bit before whispering in her ear, “Stay true to yourself, hold fast to your faith and you will have a good life.” I released her and walked to the door, looking back one last time. She at the table checking her watch. Her best friend hurried through the door saying, “I know, I know I’m late. I’m sorry I couldn’t help it.”

Sheila laughed and shook her head. “You realize one of these days I’m not gonna wait on your ass.”

I exited to their laughter.