Quips from Kay

 I was talking to my dog, Jack, this morning about how difficult it is to be a human. All the decisions we have to make, people we have to put up with, situations we have to tolerate and weather we can't control make our lives very difficult. He communicated with me by the wag of his tail that being a dog ain't that easy either. He reminded me of the saying, "It's a dog's life." Oh, yeah, that one. Well I don't know about that. Would I like to lie around all day sleeping on whatever piece of furniture I find comfortable? Would I like having my ears scratched or my belly rubbed? Sure, but that's if  I would have a kind owner. This conversation is based on the premise that as a dog I would not be a stray or in a pound. There's another point; as a human I don't have an "owner", but as a dog, I would. Well, there's that. Back to Jack; So he says, "If I'm a happy doggie, I wag my tail, if I don't like someone, I growl, or ...

 Just wanted to show you that I didn't exaggerate when I said he was tall, dark and handsome. Plus I have two more stories for you.   During the socially turbulent  60s we lived in Corpus Christi and I did social work.  Several times I called a person who had a house for rent and using my very good Mexican accent in English I would ask them if they still had the house available. Each time they would say no, it was already rented. Then I would call the same one back and in my normal English ask about the house. The reply was usually, "Oh, I'm so glad you called. The house is still available." Discrimination was a hot topic then. It worked the other way round also. Many times I would make a home visit to a family on welfare and they would speak to each other in Spanish, assuming I didn't understand. Just for kicks, on my way out, I would say something to them in Spanish and leave them with their mouths hanging open.  Please understand that since the topic is ...

It seems that the going conversations these days are about not only the pandemic but also the continuing saga of racial discrimination. The latter is such a touchy subject that it is considered "verboten" in social gatherings but since we can't have social gatherings it's not talked about much now. Therefore I have chosen this time to tell you of some of my racial discrimination experiences. Me? A white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant? No way. Yes, way. My first husband was Hispanic. Tall, dark, handsome and charming. As my father said, "He could charm the warts off a hog." Too true. That's beside the point here. After the birth of my first child my mother was coming out of church one Sunday when a good God-fearing woman came up to her and said, "I hear you have a new grandchild. What color is she?" My mother, always one with a quick comeback, said  "She's pink with blue spots. What did you expect?" I should have told you this next story ...