For what it’s worth, The State vs. George Zimmerman

When called for Jury Duty, most of you complain and contemplate all the reasons why you can’t and don’t want to serve…

This past Spring, I was called for duty and ended up serving a 2-Month Stint as Juror #3 {the Secretary} on the Fulton County Georgia Grand Jury.

At first, I wasn’t happy about having to serve, but after a week I settled into it and it gave me a whole new perspective on how our Country’s Court System works.

Just so you know:

Fulton County Grand Jury Duty service commitment = 2 days per week for 2 Months, at $25 per day.

My term was every Tuesday and Friday from 8:30am – 5:00pm, during the months of March & April.

For what it’s worth, I have no comment on The State of Florida vs. George Zimmerman Case.

And if I did, I was not a Juror, or an Attorney, nor was I the Judge on the case – so what does my opinion matter?

Argue amongst yourselves.

… But, PLEASE hear me when I say this:

The next time you get called for Jury Duty, Look at it as an Important Opportunity to be a part of YOUR government in action.

TAKE IT SERIOUSLY and DON’T BE A DICK ABOUT IT.

~~~~~~~~~~

According to Wikipedia:

“For What It’s Worth” is a song written by Stephen Stills. It was performed by Buffalo Springfield, recorded on December 5, 1966, and released as a single in January 1967; it was later added to the re-release of their first album, Buffalo Springfield. The single peaked at number seven on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. This song is currently ranked #63 on Rolling Stone‘s list of The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time as well as the eighth best song of 1967 by Acclaimed Music.

The song was inspired by an event at the dawn of the psychedelic era in November 1966, the year during which Buffalo Springfield started playing as the house band at the Whisky a Go Go on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles. According to the Los Angeles Times,[3] annoyed residents and business owners in the district had encouraged the passage of strict (10:00 p.m.) curfew and loitering laws to reduce the traffic congestion resulting from crowds of young club patrons. This was subsequently perceived by young, local rock and roll music fans as an infringement on their civil rights, and on Saturday, November 12, 1966, fliers were distributed along the Strip inviting people to demonstrate later that day.

Hours before the protest one of L.A’s rock ‘n’ roll radio stations announced there would be a rally at Pandora’s Box, a club at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Crescent Heights, and cautioned people to tread carefully.[3] The Times reported that as many as 1,000 youthful demonstrators, including such celebrities as Jack Nicholson and Peter Fonda (who was afterward handcuffed by police), erupted in protest against the perceived repressive enforcement of these recently invoked curfew laws.

Though often mistaken for an anti-war song, it was this first of the “Sunset Strip riots” which inspired then Buffalo Springfield band member Stephen Stills to write “For What It’s Worth”, recorded about three weeks after on December 5, 1966.

The song quickly became a well-known protest song. While it has come to symbolize worldwide turbulence and confrontational feelings arising from events during the 1960s (particularly the Vietnam War), Stills recounts writing the song in reaction to escalating unrest between law enforcement and young club-goers on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles County, California. The song’s title appears nowhere in its lyrics; it is more easily remembered by the first line of chorus: “Stop, children, what’s that sound?”

Stills said in an interview that the name of the song came about when he presented it to the record company executive Ahmet Ertegun who signed Buffalo Springfield to the Atlantic Records-owned ATCO label. He said: “I have this song here, for what it’s worth, if you want it.” Another producer, Charlie Greene, claims that Stills first said the above sentence to him, but credits Ahmet Ertegun with subtitling the single “Stop, Hey What’s That Sound” so that the song would be more easily recognized.

In 2006, when interviewed on Tom Kent‘s radio show “Into the ’70s”, Stephen Stills pointed out that many people think “For What It’s Worth” is about the Kent State Shootings (1970), despite predating that event by over three years. Neil Young, Stills’ bandmate in both Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, would later write Ohio, which really is about Kent State.

The song was played (without Neil Young‘s presence) at Buffalo Springfield’s induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Respectfully Yours,

Jun9

My Dear Friend:

I have been accused of many things in my lifetime, but recently was taken aback when I was accused of Disrespecting you.

And though you may think I have forgotten and brushed the incident away, this has caused me to think long and hard about what the term “Respect” actually means – to ME.

I try to Respect the world that I live in… My Country, in particular, and the laws that govern me.

I may not always agree with my Local, State, and National Government & Laws, but I try to do what the law says and with that, I feel I Respect the Law.

Same thing with Religion… I have Mine and You have Yours.

My Religion really has no proper name, but for what it’s worth – I believe in Something and Someone Higher than myself – I Respect MY God.

You may not agree with my Religion and I may not agree with your Religion, But if THAT’s your thing – Have at it.

That’s all the Respect I have for Religion.

While my Parents were alive, I had great Respect for both of them.

And now that they have passed away, I probably hold them in an even Higher Regard.

Yes, I STILL Respect my Parents.

I Respect my property and yours.

I take care of my stuff and when you ask me to look after your stuff, I take care of it, too.

I treat it like my own.

I feel I return the same amount of Politeness and Cordiality to most individuals as they assert to me.

I try to treat others the way I feel they should treat me.

I try to treat myself the way I want to be treated.

I give Respect.

I Take Gap, I Give Gap.

I give a Smile for a Smile.

I relay an Attitude for an Attitude.

What I get, I return.

In My Opinion, THAT is “Respect”.

But now I think about what “Respect” may mean to you.

… And for this, I’ve pulled out my trusty dictionary and found the following definition:

re·spect

[ri-spekt]

noun

a particular, detail, or point (usually preceded by in ): to differ in some respect.

relation or reference: inquiries with respect to a route.

esteem for or a sense of the worth or excellence of a person, a personal quality or ability, or something considered as a manifestation of a personal quality or ability: I have great respect for her judgment.

deference to a right, privilege, privileged position, or someone or something considered to have certain rights or privileges; proper acceptance or courtesy; acknowledgment: respect for a suspect’s right to counsel; to show respect for the flag; respect for the elderly.

the condition of being esteemed or honored: to be held in respect.

respects, a formal expression or gesture of greeting, esteem, or friendship: Give my respects to your parents.

favor or partiality.

Have I really been Disrespectful to YOU – My Accusor?

Ok, maybe you believe that I don’t see the high worth and excellence in you.

Or that I don’t hold you in a such a High Degree of Esteem or Honor.

But have you earned THAT?

At one time, I saw you as a Tough and Tumble Individual – possibly even a bit stronger than myself.

But the chink in your armor was revealed.

I saw it and I realized that we are equals.

Is my personal re-evaluation of You – and of myself {for that matter} – really what you should deem as Disrespect?

I think not.

If asked if I have ever been disrespected, I can only think of a few instances in my life that I feel I have come close or may fit.

Like: The few times that I have been Stood-up for a Date or Appointment and have not received an apology or an explanation,

Or Like: Having Someone {particularly a Man/Love Interest} try to “Door-Mat” me or “Wear” me like an Old Sock,

Or, Like: When I’ve loaned someone some money or an item and the money or item was never returned, acknowledged, or worse – Returned in an Altered State.

Or, Like: When I was 10 years old at Girl Scout Camp and one of the other campers called me a few Not-So-Nice names and then threw dirt on me.

Other than that, I can’t think of much that is really worth dwelling over.

So now, I just Googled this sentence: “What are examples of Disrespect?”

And this is what I got:

“A few examples of disrespect are: Talking about someone behind their back, Mocking or Teasing someone, Stereotyping someone, Making fun of someone, or Pressuring someone into doing something they don’t want to do.”

Is This Really What You Mean?!?

THAT stuff happens to ALL of us.

Every Day. Day In and Day Out

If THAT is what hurts you, I’m sorry.

I truly, truly am.

But I think we all may need to lighten up a bit.

Shake it off and keep moving.

Maybe you shouldn’t allow yourself to ponder so much on Others’ respect for you.

Think about it.

Instead, maybe you should concentrate on the Respect you have for Yourself.

It’s Rough out here.

If I have learned nothing else in my short life time, It’s THIS:

Self Respect is one of the most important personal attributes anyone can have.

Remember that.

Take Care, My Friend.

I’ll see you around.

Respectfully Yours,

~ ReginaTheGodMother

~~~~~~~~~

“Respect Yourself” is the name of a classic soul song by American R&B/gospel group The Staple Singers. Released in late 1971 from their album Be Altitude: Respect Yourself, the song became a crossover hit. The Staple Singers’ version peaked at #1 on KHJ, #12 on the Hot 100, #2 on the Hot Soul Singles chart, and is one of the group’s most recognizable hits. Bruce Willis’ version peaked at #5 on the Hot 100. In 2002 the song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame, and in 2004 it was ranked #462 on the Rolling Stone list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.^[1]

We’re Doing All Right

Jun3

I laid awake this morning reflecting on my life and how things have changed over the past year:

One year ago today, I stood at my Mommie’s hospital bedside and held her hand as she took her last breath on Earth.

I am certain that she entered the gates of Heaven with a BIG SMILE on her face knowing that she had lived a Great Life and had much to show for it.

For the most part, this has been a very good year.

My Brother with whom I had always shared a special relationship, once again has become my very closest friend.

My “Cousin” with whom my Brother and I had always shared a special bond is actually my Sister.

Even at 50 years old, it’s interesting to experience how my Mommie’s passing has changed my life so drastically.

Life is Good, Mom.

Don’t worry about us.

We’re doing all right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doing All Right

“Doing All Right” (also spelled “Doin’ All Right” and “Doin’ Alright”) was originally a song from the British group Smile, which would later come to be known as Queen. It was written by Brian May and Tim Staffell.
The song changes many times throughout, from light pop music to acoustic guitars and even contains a section that could only be referred to as heavy metal.
This is one of the few Queen songs to feature Brian May on the piano. He also played his old Hairfred acoustic guitar on this track and on later tracks such as “White Queen (As It Began)” and “Jealousy”.
The band played this song as early as 1970, and it was notable as the band’s first song Freddie Mercury played live on the piano for. Staffell sang it when it was a Smile song, and Mercury tried to sing in the same manner when it became a Queen song.
The version on the album At the Beeb features Roger Taylor singing lead vocals on the last verse.

Yesterday my life was in ruin
Now today I know what I’m doing
Got a feeling I should be doing all right
Doing all right

Where will I be this time tomorrow?
Jumped in joy or sinking in sorrow
Anyway I should be doing all right
Doing all right

Should be waiting for the sun
Looking round to find the words to say
Should be waiting for the skies to clear
There ain’t time in all the world

Should be waiting for the sun
And anyway I’ve got to hide away

Yesterday my life was in ruin
Now today God knows what I’m doing
Anyway I should be doing all right
Doing all right

Doing all right

Have you ever been stung by a Hornet?

May11

The other day, a friend told me about a HandyMan that she knows who is so much of a Bigot that he will not do work for certain ethnic groups. THAT made me very angry.

I know and have known for a long time that blaten Prejudice, Racism, and Bigotry exists among many people. It exists not only in the southern United States (where I live), but all over the world.

The discussion that I had with my friend got me to thinking about my own experiences with Bigotry.

Is it crazy to actually consider myself LUCKY to have experienced Bigotry, Racism, and moreover – Stupidity from so many people in my lifetime?

My experiences have been eye-opening and have been an important part of my personal growth. Through the years, I have grown in my ability to relate to all sorts of people despite their Racism, Bigotry, and/or Prejudice.

I can remember being called a “Nigger” by a neighborhood boy when I was 5 years old. My family lived on base at Altus, AFB, Oklahoma… It was 1967. At that age, I was not even sure what the word meant, but THAT’s what the White kid called me when I pointed at him after the AP {Air Force Policeman} asked me who I’d seen riding away on my bicycle.

I didn’t personally know that White kid, all I knew was:

– I had seen him take my bike out of my family’s garage.

– He rode away on my brand new bicycle (Training Wheels still attached).

– He had just been confronted about the theft.

– Obviously, he wasn’t very happy that he had been caught.

– He was in BIG trouble.

– He used the “N” word to “fight back”.

Later, when my Daddy explained to me what the word actually meant, I told him: “I’m not a Nigger.”

Daddy smiled at me and said: “No, Gina, You definitely are not!”

Nowadays, I think and wonder how a bigoted person handles life knowing that:

WE prepare his food in restaurants.

WE supply blood for the Red Cross or even possibly his life saving blood transfusion.

WE work at many health providers. Yes, WE are Doctors and Nurses.

WE count his money at the bank.

WE fix his BrokeDown Car, etc, etc, etc…???

Unlike my Grandparents, Parents, or even my Siblings, I’ve never experienced any type of Bigotry or Racism where I felt my life might be in danger. But I have experienced racist situations where I felt very uneasy and had my feelings hurt pretty badly.

Luckily, the experiences that I’ve had have not been daily occurences, nor have they happened very often. The unfortunate thing is that when I have experienced them – they have stung like a Hornet.

I will be 51 years old next month… I expect I will be stung many more times before my life is over.

Have you ever been stung by a Hornet? It hurts like Hell and once it happens, you’ll not soon forget it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

According to my references:

Bigotry is the state of mind of a bigot: someone who, as a result of their prejudices, treats other people with hatred, contempt, and intolerance on the basis of a person’s race, gender, sexual orientation, gender identity, national origin, religion, language, socioeconomic status, or other status.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. described bigotry in the following quotation: “The mind of a bigot is like the pupil of the eye; the more light you pour upon it, the more it will contract.”

{From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia}

The term Nigger is now probably the most offensive word in English. Its degree of offensiveness has increased markedly in recent years, although it has been used in a derogatory manner since at least the Revolutionary War. The senses labeled Extremely Disparaging and Offensive represent meanings that are deeply insulting and are used when the speaker deliberately wishes to cause great offense. It is so profoundly offensive that a euphemism has developed for those occasions when the word itself must be be discussed, as in court or in a newspaper editorial: “the n-word.”

Despite this, the sense referring to a “black person” is sometimes used among African Americans in a neutral or familiar way. The sense referring to other victims often used descriptively, as to denounce that prejudice, is not normally considered disparaging—as in “The Irish niggers of Europe” from Roddy Doyle’s The Commitments —but the other uses are and hostile.

noun

Slang: Extremely Disparaging and Offensive.

a black person.

a member of any dark-skinned people.

Slang: Extremely Disparaging and Offensive. a person of any race or origin regarded as contemptible,inferior, ignorant, etc.

a victim of prejudice similar to that suffered by blacks; a person who is economically, politically, orsocially disenfranchised.

{Dictionary.com Unabridged – Based on the Random House Dictionary, Random House, Inc. 2013}

The Invisible Fence

Apr30

I was bitten by a dog once.

A long time ago.

I turned 13 years old during that summer and lived on a street where a neighbor had a Doberman Pinscher.

This was back in the mid-70’s when Doberman’s were really popular as a guardian and protection breed.

The Smith’s had a beautiful female named Lacy who was tall and majestic and looked like a shiny Pony.

Whenever I walked past the Smith’s house, she would run to the edge of the yard and stop just long enough to sniff me and let me me rub her head. She was protecting “her territory”. It was my guess that she was “allowing” me to continue down the street, because she “knew” me.

In July, Lacy gave birth to a litter of 4 puppies. Out of those 4, was one lone male pup whom they decided to keep. He was the runt of the litter and I don’t think the Smith’s really expected him to survive long.

… But, he fooled everyone and quickly, he grew to almost twice the size of Lacy. Just as any Mother would be, Lacy was very protective of her “little” pup.

For hours on end, I used to sit at my bedroom window and watch Lacy and that male puppy play in the yard.

I noticed that somehow, even though the Smith’s yard was not fenced, Lacy managed to figure out the property limits and she knew just how far the two of them could wander without getting into trouble. In essence, Lacy had set her own Invisible Fence/Boundary for herself and her pup.

When strangers approached her Boundary line, Lacy would let out a warning bark. The Bark was meant not only to tell strangers to “Beware of Dog” but also to warn her pup of impending “Danger”.

Everytime her pup got close to the sidewalk or the edge of the driveway, Lacy would run over and nip him at the back of his hind legs to remind him to “stay close”.

Funny… I thought I “knew” Lacy very well, but apparently, I didn’t.

One Saturday afternoon as I was walking home from the Bowling Alley, I saw Lacy and her pup playing in the front yard.

The Smith’s and their children were no where in sight.

As I approached the yard, Lacy let out her Bark. I kept walking. Her pup ran closer. Finally, as Lacy realized that I was getting “too close”, she ran and cut the distance between me and her pup. She hurried to nip his hind leg and then {for good measure} turned an bit a chunk out of my thigh.

Before I knew it, I was down and both Lacy and her pup were back sitting on the front step of their house just as though nothing had happened.

****

Many years passed before I realized that THAT experience proved to be a lesson in Boundaries.

Boundaries.

We set limits, guidelines, and rules for how we associate with the world around us. Our friends, families, and aquaintences, even strangers are expected to understand and obey the Boundries that we place around ourselves.

Unfortunately, sometimes our Boundries are not clear to everyone. Nor do they remain in place ~ Often times, we lose sight of the line all together. The invisible lines – Boundary – that we draw in the sand gets erased, yet we still expect it to be seen and obeyed by the people with whom we come in contact.

Social Media is interesting… Where are the Boundaries?

Many people use Social Media as a way to express themselves and often do so without realizing that they have opened their life for EVERYONE to see.

We say things and portray ourselves in ways that we would never consider if we were not sitting behind a keyboard… Then, when an acquaintance crosses the line or replies with something deemed inappropriate = All Hell Breaks Loose.

We classify a list of 2500+ people as our “friends”, yet we get Mad and/or Angry when they act too friendly.

In today’s world, it is nearly impossible to separate Social Media from True Life.

We can not be one person on our facebook page and another person at work or on our resume. It’s impossible.

Lacy kept sight of her Boundary at all times. She knew where it was and she protected it against friend and foe. She made certain that everyone around her knew just where it was, too.

When we blur or erase our own personal Boundaries, how can we expect others to know where the line is drawn?

As defined in Wikipedia:

Personal boundaries – Guidelines, rules or limits that a person creates to identify for him- or herself what are reasonable, safe and permissible ways for other people to behave around him or her and how he or she will respond when someone steps outside those limits. They are built out of a mix of beliefs, opinions, attitudes, past experiences and social learning. Personal boundaries define you as an individual, outlining your likes and dislikes, and setting the distances you allow others to approach. They include physical, mental, psychological and spiritual boundaries, involving beliefs, emotions, intuitions and self-esteem.

Who’s Your Daddy?

Apr9

Last week, we celebrated what would have been Daddy’s 81st Birthday.

Sixteen years ago, at the age of 65, he unexpectedly died of a massive heart attack.

He was an Old Military War Horse.

A retired {26 years served} Air Force Chief Master Sergeant {CMSgt}.

A rugged Korean and Vietnam War era veteran, whom we always believed would outlive us and whom we undoubtedly thought could live FOREVER.

On Saturday night, my Big Brother and I sat at the bar of a little Mexican Restaurant and raised our beer mugs to honor “The Old Dude” whom we now affectionately refer to as: “Mr. Anderson” (a long story).

Later, we relaxed at home in the living room, toked on an half-smoked Cohiba (a REAL Cuban, left over from New Year’s Eve), and “clinked” shot glasses full of Jack Daniels – all while we laughed and shared tales of our childhood.

This was the first time we’d celebrated Daddy’s birthday together in years. It was a surreal experience. Daddy was definitely with us that night – in Spirit.

Our memories of Daddy are similar, yet very different. My Brother and I share most stories word-for-word, yet some other “Daddy Tales” seem more like third person fables that have been passed through the years of our lives.

A five-year gap between me and my Brother’s ages caused Daddy to relate to each of us differently… We assume THAT is the catalyst of our different memories.

Still, it’s funny that although Daddy has been gone from this earth for so many years, that night, both of us admitted that we still seek Daddy’s wisdom and advice on a daily basis.

You may find it strange, but I probably “talk” to Daddy more now than I did during the last years of his life.

How could that be possible?

Well, Daddy comes to me in my dreams, he speaks to me when I am troubled and alone. At times when I find I need an “extra push”, or when I need help with a difficult dilemma, he’s there to gently nudge me along. For simple decisions or even for the most complex issues, he is there to offer his advice.

I liken it to the tiny Angel and/or Devil that the Protagonist feels sitting on his shoulders while in the midst of a difficult decision.

It is similar a quick phone call to a Buddy to ask her opinion: “Should I choose Red or White?” or just like a “Phone a Friend” option on a game show. Either way, Daddy is always there for me.

Today, as I drove to the gym, I thought about some of the life lessons that Daddy taught me = Future Fodder for this blog…

Occasionally, it does me well to reflect on these and consider their validity.

A Few Lessons from My Daddy:

You need to be happy to survive this life. Do what YOU love and don’t surrender = You will always be happy.

Nothing has to be permanent. Although there may be consequences, you ALWAYS have the option to change your mind.

Never, Never, Ever burn the bridge. That bridge could lead you to new and exciting places that you never knew existed -OR- you may need to cross that bridge again to go back from whence you came.

We are taught to LOVE one another, but no one ever said that we have to LIKE one another. To be Cordial is enough.

It’s a small world… You’re gonna keep running into the same folks over and over and over again. Keep THAT in mind, because, one day, either YOU or The Other Guy is gonna need a favor. {In other words: Just keep it Cordial.}

Whether he’s your Daddy literally or figuratively, or Dead or Alive, I’m certain that each of us have bits of wisdom from our “Daddy” that guides us through our lives.

Today, I challenge you by asking:

“Who’s YOUR Daddy?”

and

“What are some of the life lessons that he’s taught you?”

Think about it.

No Explanation is Necessary.

Mar25

A Famous Man once wrote: “To one who has faith, no explanation is necessary. To one without faith, no explanation is possible.”

A couple of years ago, I made a “mistake”. By the time I realized that I’d made that “mistake”, it was too late.

I was weak and had no faith in myself. I was not thinking with my right mind. Instead, I allowed myself to be persuaded by a lonely heart.

It was a strange time. A period of cryptic phone messages and secret meetings. The time on the clock passed slowly, yet the days on the calendar moved quickly. When I realized exactly how many months had been torn off of the calendar, more than a year had gone by.

It was more than a year of pretending to be happy, smiling, and laughing. When all the while, I was actually sad, cold, and empty. I was resting inside of a thin shell.

Yes, I had a conscience, but I resolved my feelings by telling myself that “I was not ‘The One’ at fault.” I constantly reminded myself that I was an individual who was free to live my life as I pleased.

Whenever I felt a twinge of guilt, I was hypnotised by lavish promises of changed behavior and assurances of improved circumstance. Nothing ever changed. It all remained the same.

I awakened one day and realized that I was being foolish. I had nothing to show for my “mistake”. I was alone in more ways than one. I had shunned my friends… I did THAT because I didn’t want them to know anything about my reticent whereabouts or my shameful behavior. Yes, SHAMEFUL.

I put a halt to the cryptic phone messages and no longer allowed myself to be available for the secret meetings. I found new strength in a place where previously I had only felt weakness. I allowed myself to see my “mistake” in all its glory.

Recently, my “mistake” has come to light again. I have disregarded its signals for the sake of allowing bygones to be bygones. My phone rings. My email holds coded messages. I ignore them.

Last week, I picked up the phone and began dialing the number. Halfway through dialing, I realized that I was being sucked toward the Vortex. It was nothing more than ploy. I hung up without completing the call.

I know now that the messages that I’ve received have NOTHING to do with Me. Nothing. Those messages are merely an ego boost for the Caller. I am taking the high road.

“I can not meet you.”

It is over.

No explanation is necessary.

Reginathegodmother@gmail.com

Feb14

Ask me ANYTHING.

I will help you.

Regina The Godmother is: IN

EMAIL ME : reginathegodmother@gmail.com

Regina: The Godmother’s Guide to Life

A thought provoking discernment of all life’s issues.

When was the last time you saw your car keys?

Jan22

I used to have two cars.
Both cars, I owned – free and clear.
One of my cars was a really “Nice” later model car that I drove almost all the time – rain or shine.

It had a lot of accessories, special features, and bells and whistles that I liked.
Actually, I really LOVED ALL the extra stuff that I’d added to my Nice car!
I special ordered that car and I liked to show it off to all my friends.
I had a special vanity plate on the back and a cute little sticker on the back bumper that set my car apart from all the others.
I always kept the gas tank full of premium gas.

Usually, when I drove my Nice car, I kept the convertible top down and played the music really loud so that everybody noticed me, heard me coming, and saw me driving.
Parking was a no-brainer…
I always used the valet service to park it and I always allowed the valet person put it right out in front of the building so EVERYBODY could see it.
I loved to watch other people’s faces as they admired how nice a car I actually owned.
I LOVED that car!

I kept my other car parked in my Garage.
My other car really was not a “Rust Bucket” – it was actually a pretty cool little car – but for the sake of THIS story, that’s what I’ll call it – “Rust Bucket”

Sometimes, I parked it in my driveway to allow the sun to shine on it.
Sometimes, I kept it wrapped in a cloth car cover to keep the dust off of it.
But usually, I just kept my Rust Bucket in my Garage.
It really was nothing special.
It didn’t have a lot of accessories, special features, or bells and whistles.
I didn’t special order it.
Actually, I really can’t even remember exactly how I acquired it.
It didn’t have a vanity plate or special bumper stickers to identify it as mine.
It didn’t have a special paint job or any special features of which I was aware.

I only kept the most minimum maintenance on it.
I rarely gave it a full tank of gas – usually I maintained only ¼ tank…
Sometimes, I didn’t wash it for months.
I don’t think I ever waxed it.
I didn’t change the oil very often and regular tune-ups non-existent.
I only drove the Rust Bucket occasionally.
Sometimes, I drove it on special occasions and holidays.
But on those days, it was only because:
A) I knew I wouldn’t be traveling far from home
B) I knew I wouldn’t to be out for a long time
C) I knew I would not be leaving the house until late at night
or
D) I knew that no one would see me

I was NOT ashamed of my Rust Bucket – I just really liked driving my Nice car and preferred to keep my Rust Bucket around for emergencies and boring rides.

Every now and then, someone would inquire about buying my Rust Bucket.
But, I didn’t want to sell it.
Sometimes, they would even ask if they could borrow it.
My answer was always: “No!”
My logic was that although I rarely drove my Rust Bucket, there may have come a day when I actually NEEDED it.
So, whenever someone would show a little interest in my Rust Bucket, I would take it out of my Garage and drive it around for a few days.
A few days was just enough to prove to myself {and everyone else} that I still NEEDED my Rust Bucket.

Once, someone came to my Garage and took my Rust Bucket for a joy ride.
They didn’t ask me if they could drive it, they just rummaged around in the drawers of my Garage, found the keys and drove it away for a few days.
The engine was very quiet.
I didn’t even notice that the Rust Bucket had been gone until it was returned.
They parked it back in my Garage seemingly unnoticeable.
Upon return, I noticed that my Rust Bucket had been washed and the oil had been changed.
It didn’t have any scratches on it, but I could tell that it had been driven by someone else.
I didn’t report it stolen. But, I did get very, very, very angry once I realized what had happened.

Yep, I had two cars…
And after many years of maintaining those two cars, I realized that it was more of a hassle than it was worth.
Why did I NEED two cars when in actuality I was only driving the NICE car on most days?
I was being Greedy.
And you know what?
I realized that my Greed not only affected me but it affected others as well.

Greed is the inordinate desire to possess wealth, goods, or objects of abstract value with the intention to keep it for one’s self, far beyond the dictates of basic survival and comfort.

It’s my opinion that Greed can be applied to People, Places, or Things.
Thus, I believe that a person can be greedy in a Romantic Relationship or Friendship – an inordinate desire to possess another person and/or their feelings.

Obviously, my Tale of Two Cars is a very broad analogy.
It’s MY assessment of one type of Romantic relationship that I have been involved in over and over again.

There were times when I played the part of the Owner of the two cars and there were times when I played the part of one of those two types of cars.

Occasionally, I have been the Nice car.
But sometimes, I have have been the Rust Bucket.
Either way, whether I played the role of the Owner of the Car or The actual Car – the situation NEVER turned out nice.

Who are you?
How many cars do you own?
Or, better yet, who is holding on to your keys?

When you think about it like this, it doesn’t give you a very good feeling inside, Does it?

If you see yourself as the owner of two cars, then today is the day that you need get rid of one of those cars.
You really don’t need TWO cars.

And, what if you’re the Nice Car or the Rust Bucket?
Go find that greedy owner, reach in his/her pocket, and take back your keys!

You should do it now, while the engine is still hot.

What do you want from me?

Jan19

Writing is something I do every single day.

For my 8^th birthday, I received my first lockable “Daily Diary” and I have journaled about my life just about every day since then.

I also enjoy Creative Writing.

Over the years, I have stabbed at writing short stories and a few novels. I am currently writing a book about my life experiences. Hmmm… Imagine that.

In addition, I love writing about sports. Google me and you’ll see that I’ve spent some time writing for a few magazines and websites on topics related to the Mixed Martial Arts Industry. That’s a topic that I love very deeply! I could go on and on and on about MMA and the Fight Industry…

A few years back, I was a regular poster/blogger on a popular exercise website. My writing there not only helped me to lose 67 pounds, but it also encouraged others to keep the faith and maintain their own successful weight loss journeys.

Not long ago, a TV producer found some of my writings and contacted me to be a part of her television documentary where I was given the chance to share some of my life story. I never expected that my writing would lead to my own “15 minutes of fame”! What a Head Rush that was!!!

Needless to say, WRITING and JOURNALING remains a major part of my life.

In my possession, I still have most of my old journals and notebooks that I’ve kept throughout the years.

From year to year my journals have changed… Some are no more that tiny Hallmark Calendars with highlights of my day scribbled in each calendar square, while others have been hard back blank books, spiral notepads, or college ruled composition books. It has only been the last 5 or 6 years that the bulk of my writing is actually on a computer. Times have changed!

Folks that talk to me on a regular basis know that I usually have a personal story or experience about every topic.

YES, I am THAT person.

Been THERE – Done THAT: {eyes rolling} “Here she goes AGAIN!”

This blog; “Regina: The Godmother’s Guide to Life” is meant to be just that. It is A Guide to Life.

Be it Serious or Tongue and Cheek, I have a million stories that I want to share. BUT, I also I want to write about the topics that interest you.

What do you want from me?

http://youtu.be/FmeKSU6JMHQ

Email me at: reginathegodmother@gmail.com and tell me.

Ask advice, request a funny story, or prod me with a serious topic.

I am an Open Book.

No matter what, please trust that for whatever topic I write about, I will NEVER, EVER, EVER use your name or reveal your identity. Although you may see yourself in my words I will never call you out by name.

My writings are about life experiences.

My Life.

Your Life.

Our Life

Here is my personal assurance to you and I say this with my full conviction:

Don’t you worry. I’ve got this.