I am about to rant.
I am 58 years old. The Brick is 62. (There, now you know.) The Brick and I, in spite of some difficult times, have a paid-off house and no debts. (Until we borrowed for the trailer, that is.) We pay our bills -- period. This is largely due to God's grace...and a lot of finagling. We have 401Ks and a savings account.
We would be considered reasonably successful in this area, I think.
The Brick has decades of experience in not one, but THREE careers: the Navy, as a mechanical engineer (a registered P.E. too, no less, which he still is), and a bus driver/trainer/IT man in transportation for public schools. He has spent decades of work in music, just for his own pleasure and our church Worship Team. (In fact, the guy is brilliant in arranging music, changing keys and combining songs -- something I hope he does more of, after we get the house on the market.) He can fix practically everything, using little more than spit and a few pieces of wire.
I married a very clever, intelligent man. Suffice it to say: I am a lucky woman.
|Here he is, with our darling daughters. Yes, hunting.|
My own work has been more focused. I've always been a writer, not only for newspapers and magazines, but on the Internet, as a long-time blogger. (Since 2007 -- seven years, how can that be?!) I've been a paid staffer for several other blogs. I've written six books (working on #7, #8 and #9 when I can) and hundreds of articles, on subjects as varied as collecting silver to dealing with friends who Get Up Too Early. (That's for you, Jo and Chris.)
I am also known as a teacher, judge and lecturer in the quilting and craft field. Encyclopaedia Britannica's quilt entries (except for 'redwork') were written by yours truly. I've done venues all over the country -- ever since 1984. Do the math.
My third career is as a personal property appraiser. (I can't let the Brick be the one who does more than one thing!) I've been certified by AQS, the American Quilter's Society (with a few months break) since 1999, and nearly done with certification by the American Society of Appraisers (ASA), a much larger group that contains both personal property and real estate.
I appraise anything and everything but houses and cars -- I've done this now for more than a decade, and more than two decades for textiles and related items.
I don't think that I am God's Gift to the World. But I'm no dummy, either.
I'm not bragging about these accomplishments, for either of us. I'm just saying them.
Because they're true.
So why is it that...
Several times in past weeks, both of us have had sessions where we're being condescended to, yelled at, lectured, or treated as if we're either idiots -- or kindergartners.
Why are our memories -- clear ones, and yes, we were both there -- dismissed as unimportant (at best) or outright lies (at worst)?
Why is our experience disregarded as irrelevant? ('Of course, you would have no idea about this.' Said or implied in a high and lofty tone.)
Now that the Brick was able to retire -- does that mean we 'don't work,' or don't understand the 9-to-5 world anymore? (In fact, I would say we work harder than ever, especially right now.)
Are you allowed to have a different opinion without being ridiculed, dressed down or lectured to?
Isn't it possible to hold that differing opinion without being told you're evil, or just too stupid to know better? (Trump-haters, take special note here.)
I can understand some of the rudeness and hateful remarks for where they're coming from: frustration, envy and dislike of the situation they currently find themselves in. (Or even because it's been so dingdang hot.) But in nearly every case:
They were angry about something else.
This had little or nothing to do with us personally. We were just convenient.
It was a way to punish us for disagreeing with them in the past -- days, months, weeks or years ago.
Why were we the targets?
In part, I think, because they knew we would not fight back.
For one thing, this behavior is wrong.
For another, it's ridiculous. Many of the circumstances started with something that seemed pretty trivial to begin with, and got blown up totally out of proportion.
Where does respect come into play?
Haven't we done enough, and accomplished enough, to deserve at least a little of it? If I am doing my best to treat you with respect...don't I deserve some, too?
I am trying hard not to blow up and respond in kind. (In fact, this post is part of that. I have GOT to get this out of my system.) But it's getting more and more difficult.
Okay. Rant over.
The next post will be on some of the beautiful Hanky Panky pieces my students did some weeks ago.
I feel better, already. Thanks for listening.