Bubbles

 

I hear a lot of talk about bubbles these days, but not much conversation on the one I live in. Don’t get me wrong, I share many qualities of a bubble that is getting talked about since the election, the white working class. I am in my sixth decade of life, male, white and for the first time in a while, we are allowed to have problems. There are even a few people making excuses for some of the stupid things some of us do. Oh, before I go any farther, I left out one important factor, I do not have, nor do I make much money. No one is going to die before me and leave me any money. Now this is going to sound really weird, I am not mad, the only person I hold accountable is me. Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I am ok with me.  I worked for myself most of my life, I have had my fair share of problems and came out not only happy, but more importantly grateful. My relationship with the small church I attend with my family is a great help to me. The man and women that run the church are better people than they are pastors and their pretty good at that. You see, they think a church should be measured in how many lives it truly helps, not how many people attend. They are about love not judgement. I have three children; my daughter is significantly older than the other two and announced her engagement this weekend to her longtime partner. It is legal now, she is a lesbian, it somehow seems like a non-issue. My oldest son has CP and it affects every area of his life in some way. He tends to be the most conservative. He used to see similarities between Sanders and Trump, never was a Hillary fan. I don’t know who he voted for and that’s ok with me. My youngest child, I hesitate to call son because of gender issues, loves history. This interest sometimes conflicts with some of his more liberal leanings, especially when it comes to foreign affairs. The small church I attend has what many would call more of a fundamentalist origin than progressive; still they not only accept all my children, some go to great lengths to help them accept themselves. I have an almost equal number of friends on both sides of the political divide. I choose to understand both sides, I refuse to choose between friends. Maybe if we first try to be better people, conduct ourselves with dignity and remember this country is “the great experiment”; we can long endure.

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