Where I'm From

Let me tell you a little about where I started out in life. I was born in Paragould Arkansas--which is in the Northeastern corner of the state. Paragould, Arkansas is the only town in the world named Paragould. Really! It is located in a dry county, which means the sale of alcohol is strictly prohibited. People born and raised in the area include Johnny Cash, John Grisham, and the rock band Black Oak Arkansas. ("Jim Dandy to the Rescuuuue.")
Directly following the Civil War, a Democrat named Nathan Bedford Forrest started a militia known as the KKK and began fighting U.S. Soldiers in an attempt to start another war. The longest and bloodiest battles were fought in northeastern Arkansas. And, yes, the reference to Forrest in Forrest Gump was true. Except the part about Forrest being related to Forrest. And thank God I'm not related, either!! I mentioned the Democrat part because I think it's a telling example of our country's political history. The Republican Party wanted freedom and equal rights for everyone--slaves and women included. The Democrats really did not agree. They HATED Lincoln for insisting that all men should be equal. The KKK was a militia, not so much a lynch mob. The battles went on for a long time after the end of the Civil War, hindering the rebuilding of the South.

However, my family's history in the area is an interesting one. My aunt recently researched our lineage and she traced family all the way back to the Revolutionary War. She also found that a good amount of the land in Tennessee that is now the location of Memphis belonged to our family. In Memphis, there is a street, a pond, and a park named for my family. Gragg Park. Gragg Street. Yep, Gragg. Thornton is an acquired name for me. The place where I was born is about an hour from Memphis. My brother's elementary school class went to the Memphis Zoo for a field trip once.

I remember being surrounded by farms and fields in one place we lived while there. I also remember another home we rented, which was situated between a railroad track and a highway. That was Farrville. The highway was at the edge of the front yard, and the railroad track was at the edge of the back yard. Talk about cheap rent!
We witnessed both truck accidents and train accidents. We had a goat for a pet. There were five of us crammed into a two-bedroom house. If we had my dad's family over (BBQ or whatever) the place spilled over with people, it was so tiny. One time, my uncle took so long in the bathroom that I finally grabbed an empty Gatorade bottle (glass back then) and used it. Hey, I was three. I had to GO.

I have a lot of random memories from Arkansas, and they go all the way back to when I was younger than two years old. Most people can't remember that far, I don't know why I can. My sister is two and I can recall when my mom was pregnant with her. Aaaah, the salad days. It was just my brother and I, and we didn't have to share toys. Not with HER, anyway....

I remember when this photo was taken:



That's my brother wearing a gunbelt and a baby's stocking cap. He pretty much dresses the same today.

I remember when my brother was swinging on our tire swing, and the big thick rope broke. He slammed into the ground and broke a tooth. Bloody lip. Very alarming.
I also remember when my sister had a Trencher arm fall on her and it broke her leg. A Trencher is a piece of heavy equipment with a 15 foot arm on the front, used for digging HUGE ditches. It has blades that rotate on the arm, much like a giant chainsaw. My sister was walking past it at the shop where our dad worked, and the Trencher arm malfunctioned just as she got under it. Fell right on her.

I remember the tornadoes we'd get in the spring, once we had to take shelter in the storm cellar. It had a trap door behind the house, we climbed in there and spent the night. The next day we went into town and the place looked like a pile of match sticks.

I also remember the size of the grasshoppers. They were enormous. So were the tree frogs that would stick themselves to our front windows at night. The snakes were huge, and EVERYWHERE. The toads were large enough to eat. And we did just that. They taste like a smoke-flavored chicken.

I remember we had chickens, and periodically my dad would whack one with the axe and we'd have dead chicken feet to run around the yard with. Well also we'd have fresh chicken for dinner. Not too many people even know what that tastes like.

We always had a garden, with HUGE crops. Arkansas has a very dark rich soil. I remember the eggplants were giant, and the okra was quite plentiful. We had okra all the time, but we never pronounced it correctly. We were taught by our dad that it was Oak-ree. WRONG!!! You know I just recently made myself start pronouncing it right. And I don't know how long it took me before I found out that grape tomatoes were not called tommy toes. Gee, thanks Daddy. Parents out there, it is NOT FUNNY to teach your kids how to talk like that!!!

We moved from Arkansas to the midwest in the middle of my kindergarten year. I talked funny, I got teased a lot for it. For the life of me I can't remember anything that I HAVEN'T been teased about! But my brother and I learned very quickly to lose the heavy slow Arkansas accent so we could fit in a little better.
If only we could've figured out how to dress a little less funny....

Grijalva Can Suck It

If you've paid any attention to the Arizona Illegal Alien law, then you probably might remember weeks ago when one of our own Congressional members (and a very terrible one at that) announced that people should boycott our state because of the new law. His name is Raul Grijalva, and he is a nasty, stupid man. We all think so. We do. Just ask around. Nobody likes him, and his mustache is dirty.
I'm just throwing out random insults, really.
But he has his followers. Those who like living off the state with their food stamps and welfare. Those who believe illegals should be allowed to just take over our state. Idiots, really. Yes, harsh words. But I feel strongly.

I have met more than once a wonderful young lady who is running against Grijalva in this year's election.

She's a rocket scientist. She has bumper stickers that say, "Maybe it DOES take a Rocket Scientist." Clever. Her name is Ruth McClung.

If she wins, her Congressional district will touch the one I live in. It is miles and miles of desert and farm land, as well as metropolitan areas. Hundreds of miles. I know, because I've driven across it many many times. I can't vote for her, but I can drum up support. I can forward her website to everyone and urge them to donate. I can say nasty things about Grijalva and show my lack of respect for him. Here's her site. Donate if you can. www.ruth4az.com

We Graduated

After participating in hundreds of hours of instruction, and basically the same if not more in travel to get to these classes, we graduated last night.

It was at the Historic Manning House in Tucson, Arizona, a gorgeous facility that's been around since the Conquistador days. Literally.

Our final day of class was actually kind of a wrap-up, where we talked about the program and what we have learned from it. One by one, we stood up and spoke of our experiences, and what we will do with the knowledge entrusted to us.
And one by one, each classmate tearfully (or nearly tearfully) admitted that they've never been so close to a group of women.
Yes I know, it sounds like a church retreat but it was the furthest thing from it. We are a group of politically active women who are basically clawing our way through a man's world--never really gaining respect or equality by our work or our accomplishments. None of us have a little circle of girlfriends to get together with, none of us have ever belonged to a sorority....but somehow we were all able to spend long hours together, endure some stress, and come out of it for the better.
My comments to the class was simple: "We have shown that we can BE Republican Women, but not ACT like Republican Women." Meaning, we don't have to eat each other alive. And everyone's comments were very close to mine. It was a touching experience, to know that the whole group felt the same. Each classmate admitted the amount of political training and campaign strategies and networking was enormously useful (in my case, it has been invaluable) but in the end the greatest gain was the friendship of some really amazing women.

So then we had our graduation ceremony. We had presentations, great speakers, an open bar (most important) but when it came to walking across the stage to receive the diploma, I found myself to be suddenly very, very sad. I snapped photos all day, joked and celebrated with my classmates--but once I realized it was all over I just didn't want to be there anymore. I wanted to go get myself ready for the next day. I wanted to go get acclimated to the absence of positive words, support, and close friendship. Really, it felt that awful! I poked around very little--I hopped in my car and took the long way back to my hotel room. I guess you could say I was a party pooper.

But, let me share a few of my photos...

This is beautiful Sophia, standing with our flag:



The class gathering out front of the Manning House for a group photo:



The classy Christine, with her pretty pink outfit. And the ravishing Beth as well!



My tribute, to John Travolta--and Margaret's tribute to Jackie O:

Headed To Tucson

Heading to Tucson on Monday afternoon to prepare for my graduation. Since it's about 6 hours of driving, I need to get there on Monday night to be rested and ready for Tuesday. I have a picture slideshow to complete, and our class is filming a commercial. Then we have an afternoon of classtime. Graduation is at 6pm. I only know a couple of people in Tucson, and I doubt they'd be interested in sitting thru my graduation, so this is another solo event for me.

However, one of my recent visits to Tucson yielded some very nice photos! (Oh by the way my newest camera stopped working today so I may not have graduation photos)

But this is a tourist place, and an actual church that is outside of Tucson. It is a three hundred year old gorgeous church, and people are welcome to walk thru and look around when they're not having services.

This Was Not Easy

This is what 60 pages of names and addresses looks like. Not just any names, but those of registered voters in the Lake Havasu City limits. That's tough, because we have a lot of residents who live just outside the City. They're customers in Havasu's stores, they're patrons of the restaurants, they're friends of friends and they hang out in town. So I couldn't just get ANY signature. I had to work for it. So did my friends! We walked neighborhoods, we were sometimes treated a bit rudely, we braved the harsh winds and the burning sun...

And we did it. We got the remainder of my signatures today!

I got to work at 10am with a friend, and we gave ourselves the goal of 45 signatures. The 45th person to sign was at 11:35, and I looked at her with a little bit of emotion and said, "You just qualified me for the ballot. Thank you very much." Then I went to my car and fought back tears.

I can be a normal person now! I have one less thing to worry about!!!

I can't thank everyone enough. It was a lot of worrying--a lot of nights lying awake stressing--but now that part is done.

Begging

Yesterday I went door to door, campaigning. And the day before. And the day before.

But if it weren't for the help of some friends who went out door to door, I wouldn't have been able to say this:

TODAY IS THE LAST DAY OF BEGGING FOR ME!! I will have my minimum number of signatures, and about 50 or 60 extras for padding.

Then I switch gears and begin begging for votes instead of signatures. Geez, this is fun.