Once again today, I was driving behind a car -- a nice SUV -- that had a sticker on the back of the Confederate flag. And once again, I find myself wondering: what must this particular symbol mean to this particular person? Why would someone put this on his or her car for the world to see? I think there are several possible reasons:
- This person is a Son of the South, proud of his or her ancestry in the southern states. (Let me point out that I am in northern New Jersey, where half of everybody is Italian, and half of everybody else is Jewish.)
- This person somehow believes that this represents him or her as having "a rebel spirit."
- This person is advocating that individuals should rise up in rebellion against the Constitutional government of the United States of America.
- This person is opposed to equal rights for Americans of African descent, i.e., this person is a racial bigot who doesn't like black people.
My personal guess is #2. The Hubs thinks that all the people with rebel flags on their cars are more likely to be #4.I'm pretty sure that none of them (or at least, very few) understand that this is the flag of a country that attacked a United States military outpost, thereby initiating the worst war our country has ever seen, and that this is a country that no longer exists because they lost said war. I don't think the typical New Jersey rebel SUVer (ore belt buckle or t-shirt wearer) thinks it's an issue of states' rights, because let's be honest, states' rights ceased to be a political issue a way long time ago.
Could be they're just bigots, it's a possibility. I'm just thinking that if they knew what their symbol meant, they might not all be so eager to display it.
I may have lost 3.2 pounds in my first Jenny week, but I'm not trusting that because my original weigh-in was in the afternoon and I was wearing jeans and a sweater, but this morning I threw on yoga pants and a t-shirt and I hadn't eaten a day's worth of food. And I wasn't on the plan for a whole week, just since Monday, so I'm thinking it's not a reliable weight. The Sibs says a loss is a loss and be happy with it. And I am. I'm just glad I didn't gain anything, so I'm not complaining, just not trusting. I'll see what next week brings.
*Cue the music from Annie* The sun came out ... uh, today, not tomorrow. Everywhere I went today, people commented on the lack of rain and the unfamiliarity of that heat and light source that seemed to be there. The local rivers were supposed to have crested, and may now be receding. Our basement should dry up in a day or two. I opened my car windows and let it air out, since the weatherstripping around the doors lets the rain in and the carpets get all wet. It did drizzle for a few minutes about two hours ago, but then it was sunny again after that.
We lent K's car to my oldest nephew for the weekend, and true to his flaky ways, he came to pick it up about two hours after I expected him, which was an hour after I called to see where he was and he said he'd be here in fifteen mimutes. Dude, I'm doing you a favor; show up on time. But this is the way he is. I can't say that we are so much enabling him because he mostly lives in California and comes for rare visits. But he has always been this way. It's way more charming now than it was when I spent twenty minutes every morning waiting for him to wake up so I could drive him to the high school with me. Sometimes I went in and tried to wake him myself. Once in a blue moon, he would be awake enough to tell me to leave without him, but I once calculated that I'd spent a year or so of my life waiting outside my sister's house for him (or one of the others), so it's not just him, but he's the worst offender, by far. Anyway, he's got the car, he'll bring it back tomorrow or Monday. He'll just bring it back on his own timetable, sometime before he flies home out of JFK anyway. (He could also leave it for his brother to bring back, which also wouldn't be a surprise.)
We're watching the third and final disc of House, first season. It's addictive.
