My family of origin -- or part of it -- in Hawaii, where I was born and spent half my youth.
In this country, there are the rich, there are the working class, and there are the invisible. I live among the invisible; I am financially one of them. But I am not inaudible.
This is my first entry in a blog primarily aimed at the public interest. I am actually quite concerned about it. For one thing, I have two others, both on lj; one made years ago, for fanfiction pursuits, and the other recently, looking for friends and allies interested in my novel. I have no particular credentials, unless you count academic degrees. There, I have six. They're mostly an embarrassment, actually, since various friends wouldn't let me toss them, I can't imagine donating them, and they all really reflect is what happens to ADHD people when they focus on school and are not perfectly certain what they want to specialize in. I have occasionally gone off on political rants, but mostly I make comments on other people's journals, letting them take the risks. I've just decided I should be as courageous myself.
So, fair warning: I like argument but only with people who know what they're talking about; I am legally poor, though not quite poor enough (I make $96 a year too much from Social Security to qualify for help available to the "poor," like medical assistance.) I have never fit with any group, try as I might; the advantage of age is one stops trying, and just invites people to come over and play in their backyard. People who forget that lots of people don't own cell phones, cable, dishwashers, disposals, their own home, more than three pairs of shoes, none of those with designer names, or cars annoy me. I own none of these things, although in my life when I had a working income I did -- except the designer names, because I'm too much of a snob to run around wearing advertising for trade. My maternal grandmother was an officer in the DAR and the daughter of one of the men who started the Bohemian club; my paternal grandmother was a poor (and well-educated) Jewish immigrant who got other members of her family safely out of Europe just before Hitler made that impossible. My paternal grandfather was also a Jewish immigrant, a scholar and teacher like my grandmother who ended up a cobbler in the U.S. And my maternal grandfather was a southern American, an officer and a gentleman by act of Congress (Annapolis) and a racist and antisemite by his own choice.
How do you do, y'all.
Sat Sep 21, 2013 at 11:14 AM PT: NB for comments down below: for some reason the comments on this do not have a "reply" opportunity. So since I'm incurably polite when not furious (and how could I be furious at these friendly comments?) I thought I'd just quickly say -- Chimene, I actually stayed there the summer of '70, but by that time was in college -- grad school at UH? what's your specialty? SoCAlSal, nice to meet you; not Nuuanu, but Kahala, about a block from DiamondHead; corner of Royal Place and Kahala, if you ever drive by (think it's all white right now); Wonton Tom, synchronicity indeed, or perhaps Jung's Universal Unconscious?