Is It Really That Hard?

"I can't stand rude behavior in a man.  Won't tolerate it." ~Captain Woodrow F.Call, Lonesome Dove

I love the Lonesome Dove books by Larry McMurtry.  Of course, I love cowboys and their way of life, that time period in post-Civil War American history.  McMurtry's books are full of a lot of quotes that get thrown around The Ranch on a daily basis, particularly the one above.  I demand people keep a civil tongue in their heads and do my best to teach the kids that, even if they don't like someone, they can still be pleasant.

Having said that, I need to vent.  The Cowboy's ex is beginning to be a real burr under my saddle blanket and I am going to have to call her out on it.  I realize that the nature of an "ex" anything isn't supposed to be fun, but people can still be civil, especially if there are kids involved.  It was her idea to end their relationship anyway, neither was abusive, or cheated or any of those other things that can end a marriage.  His biggest sin was being diagnosed with a rare muscular disorder and not making enough money to suit her.  So after telling everyone he would be in a wheelchair in 5 years (12 years ago), she was suddenly afraid of him, the man who supported her through chiropractic school....the man who takes 15 minutes to comb the tangles out of the 5 year old girl's hair. The man who taught the 5 year old with spastic quadraplegic cerebral palsy to swallow a pill, to the amazement of doctors in 2 states.  The man who resuced a barn kitten from the dogs and brought it in the house (where she sleeps with him every night).  The same man who takes the time to make my coffee pot before we go to bed, who makes sure dinner is ready when I get home, among the other things he does. THIS is the man she considered worthless, divorced and then married someone else 6 months to the day after their divorce was final.

It didn't stop there either.  Because if his "disability", he has to take a driving test every 2 years to prove that he is safe to drive.  Because of his "disability", he wasn't allowed to see his son for almost 2 years unsupervised....by a member of her family.  For the past 3 years, since we have been together, it has been an almost constant stream of texts, emails and phone calls of how SHE wants things to be.  I am rarely, if ever, aknowledged to be a presence in the boy's life. No smiles or nods of the head at baseball or football games.  No hello at the door if I am the one picking him up.  No civilities at school functions or pleasantries on the phone if I answer. One weekend, he came to our house without socks, so we bought him a package, kept some at our place and sent the rest home.   She called to inform The Cowboy that he had socks already....no thanks, no kiss my ass,  no nothing. I once spent almost an hour looking some things up for a school project of his, then emailed what I had found to her and the boy.  She called The Cowboy to complain that he couldn't use it because I had written it.  The final straw was this morning when, after working all night, I had to drive 40 miles out of my way to get the boy for his Father's Day visitation....because the good "christian" woman couldn't be bothered to get up early.  The kicker was when she grudgingly agreed to meet me this afternoon to pick him up and the annoyed look on her face when we pulled into the parking lot.  And finding something interesting on her phone to look at when we parked beside her so she didn't have to look in my direction.

Is it really that hard to just be nice?  I don't want to have lunch with the woman, nor do I want to be involved in her life beyond the overlap with the boy.  Why is it so difficult to just be civil?  Whatever it is, I am done with this behavior.  As a German-Irish red head, my bullshit tolerance is pretty low anyway, but this takes the cake.  So, here it is, dear Miss Sister-Bertha-Better-Than-You....you may be a chiropractor in Owasso, but you were born poor white trash from Healdton, Oklahoma and money doesn't buy class.

Whew....I feel better.

Give A Little Bit....

Give a little bit, Give a little bit of your love to me
Give a little bit, I'll give a little bit of my love to you
There's so much that we need to share, Send a smile and show you care~Supertramp

I drive a lot, usually with the radio cranked up and  coffee close by.  Commuting long distances to work is what you make it.  My son also has doctors in the Tulsa and Oklahoma City area.  While listening to the radio one day, I heard a spot from a local church.  The pastor calls it "Perceptions" and it is usually a short scripture reference or such, but this one was different.  He told a story about some famous golfer--I forget the name-- who gave a woman a rather large sum of money to help with medical expenses for her terminally ill toddler.  When he was told later that it was all a scam, the golfer exclaimed "You mean there is no dying baby?  That's the best news I've heard all week!"  Wow.  What a life of grace to be able to focus on the positive.

I told you that story to tell you this one.  And I tell you this one not to pat myself on the back or to get any accolades.  I just want you to think, ok?

I drove my Mom halfway to Oklahoma City last week to meet Dad.  My youngest girl was with me, and being a 5 year old, needed to go inside to the restroom at the truck stop where we met.  As we walked in, I noticed a young girl, not much older than 22, sitting outside the store, not facing traffic or making eye contact with anyone.  She had a small hand lettered sign that read "Traveling and broke down, anything helps, God bless".  It bothered me.  I have one teenager driving already and another getting ready too.  Vehicles are trouble, just ask my Dad.  He told my sisters and me that from day one.  "This girl is somebody's daughter" was the thought that crossed my mind.  When we came out of the store, she was gone and I glanced over to the back of the parking lot.  She was standing there by an older Honda Civic with two other people, the car jacked up on the passenger side, the tire off.  When my parents left, I went to the back.  Her husband was with her and a beautiful blonde haired, blue-eyed toddler was bouncing in the front seat of the car.  A young local guy with grease all over his hands and clothes was talking to them.  On their way to Oregon and the CV joint had gone out in their car, he could fix it, but they needed money for the part.  Ever bought a CV joint? I have.  Parts stores don't give them away. So....I helped with what I could.  Not that 20 bucks and a 50 dollar Wal-Mart gift card were gonna go far.  Because she was somebody's daughter, traveling with hers.

I'll give a little bit, I'll give a little bit of my love to you
So give a little bit, Give a little bit of your time to me
See the man with the lonely eyes, Take his hand, you'll be surprised
Did I get scammed?  I don't think so.  Even if I did, she was somebody's daughter.  He was somebody's son.  And that beautiful child bouncing up and down in the front seat smiled at me, happy no matter what, clean and well cared for.  In the end, I think we all should treat people not like we want to be treated, but like they are someone's child.  And have the grace to find the positive in anything that might go wrong.

Now's the time that we need to share
So find yourself, we're on our way back home

Life's Been Good To Me So Far....

That could be my song, well, minus the mansion and the Maserati part....ok, and the gold records on the wall.  The line "I can't complain but sometimes I still do" fits though.

Maybe Roger Miller's song "You Can't Rollerskate In a Buffalo Herd....But You Can Be Happy If You've a Mind Too", those are some lyrics to take to heart.  Or maybe "Me Vida Loca" by Pam Tillis.  Or Alanis Morissette "Hand In My Pocket" cause everything's gonna be fine, fine, fine....even though I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed. Songs are stories, pictures of emotions and sentiments painted with words.

I used to blog over on another "adult" site, then the behavior there got not so adult and sucked all the fun  out of it.  But I still have my songs, we all do.  Songs that come from our life experiences.  They come from having two ex husbands--one a nice guy, even though he is an eternal pessimist (the glass is not only half empty, but leaking)--the other, I thought was nice, then found out that pathological liar sociopaths who are also pedophiles really AREN'T so nice.  Mine come from being a mother of 4 of the most fascinating, wondrous, amazing, aggravating humans on the Earth and living with them on the ranch where I grew up.  Then there are the songs from The Cowboy, the man who I look at with daily fascination because he voluntarily joined this circus.

My life is a series of songs.  Sit and listen, the porch here at The Ranch is big enough.  Share your songs with me.  Light a cigarette, I'll pour the Crown.