Confessions of a “Bleeding-Heart Liberal”

Forgive me, Uncle Sam, for I have sinned.

It has been over a decade since the last time I was forced to go to confession.

I have a confession to make, Uncle Sam: I’m a liberal. But before you sentence me to hell, I’m not a  hippie or a hipster. I don’t chain myself to trees or own a Velcro wallet. I don’t pour red paint on fur or eat veggie burgers or drink PBR.

I do, however, believe in helping the needy.

I do not believe that welfare and unemployment benefits should be accepted by bars and restaurants and other frivolous businesses.

I believe that reading books and attending a liberal arts college does not make me an elitist, it makes me educated.

I believe that reading about all religions, not just the one thrust upon me, makes me a moral, good person.

I believe that the color of your skin, the genitals on your body and the sexual preferences and kinks you enjoy do not define you.

I believe that a man who believes he deserves seven wives doesn’t have the right to tell a man he isn’t allowed to have a husband.

I believe that a man has no right to tell a woman what she can or cannot do with her body.

I believe that science should dictate medical laws, not religion. Medicine is a science. Religion is not.

I believe that as long as my taxes go to helping the poor, the uninsured, the schools and the infrastructure of this country I do not mind paying them.

I believe that war is wrong and that imposing our views and values, no matter how good we think they are, onto people of other nations and cultures is dead evil and should not be covered by those same taxes.

I believe in apple pie and ears of corn just as much as you do.

I believe you have the right to go to church on Sunday just as much as I have the right to sleep in.

I do not believe you are evil for going to church, so please stop thinking I’m evil for staying home.

I believe that Donald Trump withholding $5 million from charities just because he doesn’t like Obama is wrong.

I believe that the majority is not always correct.

I believe that blocking every bill supported by the President and then complaining that he gets nothing done is childish.

I believe that not working with others in Congress means you should go back to kindergarten and learn that skill all over again.

I do not believe that disagreeing with me makes you an evil person.

I believe that restricting rights from only certain groups of people makes you an evil person.

I do not camp out on the steps of Wall Street.

I do use a Credit Union.

I believe rape is rape. I believe it is the most evil thing one human being can do to another. I believe it is worse than homicide. I believe there is no such thing as legitimate rape, as all rape is legit. I do not believe there are different levels of rape.

I believe rapists deserve exponentially more jail time than they get.

I do not believe in the death penalty.

I also do not believe in death panels.

I do not believe that hand-cuffing a president allows you to mock him for a lack of production.

I do not believe that manipulating and using young men as soldiers allows you to forget them when their term is over.

I do not believe progress is an evil word.

I do not believe that all speech is covered by the first amendment. Hate speech is actually specifically not covered by that amendment. Using the words “retard” (Ann Coulter) or “fag” (Christian extremists) or “nigger”, “chink”, “wet-back”, etc. (racists) is violating far more than just an amendment.

I do not believe that being a liberal makes me a bad person. It does not make me elitist. It does not make me yellow-bellied. If it makes me different than you, then so be it. That does not make either of us better than the other.

It does not give you the right to turn your nose at me. It does not give you the right to throw childish temper tantrums. It does not give you the right to hate.

Uncle Sam, I am a liberal.

But I’m not here for confession.

I’m not sorry for who I am.


A Little Taste of Americana

I hope you all had a safe, not-too-warm (looking at you, midwest) and explosive Fourth of July! I got to see F-16s fly over the beaches of South Carolina. How was your time with little Timmy and his Whipper-Snappers?

Anywho, the beaches were a bit busy, especially considering we were followed around by evil, human-hating jellyfish. Yeah, that many people got stung. It was really annoying, but we made due until it was time for the evening festivities.

The resort we’re at hosted a little neighborhood cookout and fireworks display. Let’s walk through the conglomeration of people from all over the country coming together to pretend that they know and like each other just because we’re all eating the same pulled pork.

Gathering on the lawn.

There were over four hundred people gathered together on a little area of land and pier on the intracoastal waterway for some barbecue and games and good times. It was a lot of fun, especially when there’s a solo singer/musician pretending to be Jimmy Buffet while singing songs by summer music stars Johnny Cash and Joe Jackson and the Talking Heads. You heard me. Poor man’s Jimmy Buffet singing “Ring of Fire” at a July Fourth dinner party.


Shuffleboard and bocce ball right next to each other? Yes. Please.

Bocce ball is awesome. One hundred kids trying to play it their own way while one 70 year old woman takes it way too seriously so that good, patient kids and people never get to play is not awesome. I think that was a run-on sentence but I don’t care. That annoyed me.

At least I got to dance with a cute little three year old to that Talking Heads song, instead. Worth it.

Time to start finding your seats.

The sun setting over the mainland as things wound down was pretty nice. A solid, cool breeze blowing the flags and just enough clouds to make you want to photograph the sun marked the end to a nice evening.

Patriotic sunsets make me smile.

Seriously, it was an awesome sunset. And look at those flags lining the pathway! It was seriously like walking down the aisle to marry the sun god. So romantic.

No. This was not the finale.

It was pushing what seemed like midnight when I took this picture. We think they forgot to take matches out to the barge to light the wicks of the fireworks. It really felt like hours because everyone was told to take our seats, the lights were dimmed but literally nothing happened. Nothing. Until…

“Be kind to your web-footed friends…”

Okay, so there wasn’t actually any music piped in or anything, but am I the only one that always hears the same song whenever I watch fireworks? I don’t know the name of it, but the caption of that photo says it all. It’s probably something by Sousa because there’s tons of drums and trumpets.


Sorry I haven’t been around much lately, it’s been a busy couple of weeks. I hope you all celebrated your dutiful birthday full of beer, barbecue and bombs.

Go America!