Speaking of... by Liz Flaherty

This week someone called me a Marxist. Actually, it was a liberal Marxist, so I was okay with part of it. So, even though I learned about Karl Marx in school and although I see the term tossed around along with socialist, snowflake, woke, and other cuss words, I really didn't know for sure what Marxism espoused. So I looked it up.

I still don't know.

I hate to admit this, but there were just way too many big words in the definition for me, and I even like big words. So even though I didn't like being called something I didn't understand and I'm flat out positive I'm not a communist (one of the descriptors), I have to give the guy kudos for using the word. Do you think he knew what it meant or do you think he was just being a sophist?

Did I know what sophist meant? I absolutely did not, but now I do and am delighted to have had the opportunity to use it. My thanks go out to the guy who called me Marxist for opening the door to some knowledge. Although I'm still not sure why he called me that other than I have a really soft spot for public education in a state that ... doesn't.

That'll learn me.

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Speaking of kudos, thanks to the people who are offering up the spaces and spending a ton of time and money helping keep the homeless safe during the bitter cold.

Thanks to the public servants who answer what seem like the stupidest calls to anyone who reads Scanner posts on Facebook. They show up every time, and sometimes I'd like to be a mouse listening to what they have to say about some of those calls. Not to mention the comments on the Scanner posts themselves. They're very ... uhm ... well, phooey, where's a fully descriptive word when you need one? I don't think they're Marxist, but maybe.

Thanks to the people who clear the roads regardless of other people saying they're not doing enough.

Thanks to the delivery people who come every day and can only bring what's on their trucks. They can't help what is late, damaged, not what you ordered, or would have fit you fine when you were in the third grade.

"Look for the helpers." ~ Fred Rogers

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Speaking of anger, and I know we weren't, but we were heading that way. Damaged, not what you ordered, stupidest, they're not doing enough all should have been clues. Not to mention calling other people names, something I may have complained about at least 10 times on this blog. (I say 10 times to give myself a break--I know I've done it more often than that.)

There is so much anger now, isn't there? So much blame. And so many places to lay that blame, because goodness knows, there's plenty to go around. There are times when I read the news and end up with my fingers shaking to the point I can't scroll straight (not intended to be funny; I read the news online), but no one ever seems to want to accept blame or expect their leaders to accept it.

I am in no way a leader, although I like to consider myself a helpful follower, but I am as mad as anyone else is. I am disappointed in so many people. (Calling a bishop names because she preached directly from scriptures in a church.) I have disappointed people. (I say I won't be political and then I am. Again and again.)

I did have a wrap-up ending for this week's post, but like many of us from both sides of all the fences that divide us, I'm pretty exhausted. I hope I make you snicker a little because we all need it so badly, but I end with a plea for peace and empathy for everyone who has known loss this week, that we hold onto the memories and shared laughter that have given our lives color and joy.

Image by Sean Dietrich

I'll leave you with this link to a column by Sean Dietrich I wish I'd written and the suggestion you read it, and also with the hope that you have a good week. Be nice to somebody.