I can’t believe I actually have to put this in writing. But I might – just MIGHT – have been the target of a Hate Crime last night.
(follow this blog as I update the information as I go.)
In short, I was walking my dog with a friend when a maniacal driver tore up the street in a black SUV. We were already in the crosswalk but paused to make sure the driver slowed down at the stop sign so we could finish crossing safely.
As we were about three-quarters of the way across, the driver revved his engine. We both looked over in surprise – what was THEIR problem?
That’s when everything turned into slow motion.
I looked back as this huge car, which my friend said was an Escalade, started screeching its tires, honking wildly, and then hit the gas at full throttle. I saw my friend’s jacket swing as the vehicle nearly hit her, and saw my dog nearly get run over.
Hello — and to all who have loved, hated or at least appreciated the work Mike Matthews has done over the last 30+ years… he has work waiting for him in California. But FIRST, we need to get him out here! Please donate whatever you can, and that way – we can get him out here to continue his amazing story telling.
You can donate above, or purchase any of the items I’ll be listing for sale, including my own personal TV memorabilia and possibly even the dress I wore when I was Queen of The Knights of Jason (Mardi Gras krewe).
Just follow this post and I’ll keep you, well.. posted!
All I know is – he has saved my life during the past couple of years, and now, it’s incumbent on me to return the favor.
I guess when I think about it, my parents were very “stuck in the middle” just as I am now.
My Dad was born during the Great Depression and hated society girls, despite the fact he married one. My mother had her own clothes tailor-made and had her own nanny (as did her other six siblings). SHE taught me how to fight with my mind, HE taught me to fight with my fists.
The dichotomy is striking.
But what they had in common was a shared set of values: Never make a promise you cannot keep; if you incur debt, you pay it, no matter how long it takes; justice will take its course; and a handshake was as good as your word.
This upbringing prepared me for a wide array of personalities and lifestyles. Yet for so long, MY world hasn’t made any sense. But this is starting to change.
This is an odd aside, but the front door of my place is locked shut because the lock broke in the door, so I have to shuffle to the back gate to answer the door or accept packages. On the way, my knee buckled again (I’ve been injured since my Dad’s funeral nearly a year ago – but can’t go to the hospital because people are dying of Covid-19), and this time, I bit it.
Flew across chairs and toppled dishes, good, electronics, about 27 remote controls and the rest as I attempted to break my fall, and ended up with this raging hematoma on my shin.
So now, of course, I can’t walk the dog. I get a walker to come by and get here, while I hobble around. Then, as I’m trying to re-arrange the newly cleaned “dog” blanket on the bed, she mistakes my cue and jumps up before I’m ready, with her newly clipped nails using my arm as a “leg-up” to the bed. Her nail slices right down the length of my arm, like I was being cut open for an experiment:
(BTW – I have to take a break.. back to that vasovagal response — I need to step away because I’m feeling queasy just remembering it)
Okay – so I’m practically fainting as I look for something to clean up this gaping wound.. I’m pouring rubbing alcohol all over it, then try to tape the wound shut so I wouldn’t need stitches. So now I have to watch for an infection to see if I need anti-biotics or a tetanus shot or what.
At this point, I’m starving, as I (obviously) haven’t been cooking. So I place an order through Doordash, and just as my order is supposed to arrive, it gets canceled! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I’m bruised, battered, fainting, bleeding and really, REALLY hungry.
So in short, I had a pretty bad day yesterday. But at least it’s around Halloween time, so my horrifying-scar on my arm and the knee wrap and pirate-like limp will fall in line.
I mean, let’s face it. It’s par for the course nowadays. At least I have a roof over my head and a sense of humor about how ridiculous the world seems nowadays.
Remind me sometime to tell you about The Adventures of Frankenfinger. Now THAT’S a disgusting story!