In the still of the night

"In the Still of the Night" was one of my favorite lullabies.   My bed was a cheap cot thrown over in the corner of the room.  The mattress had to be every inch of one inch thick.  I didn't care.  I shared this room with many relatives.  My grandfather occupied this space with me  far more than many.

I had a cheap portable radio-record player combination.  I kept it tuned to WIDU or Cassy Casum out of Nashville.   I kept it low, never turned it off.  Little did I know how healing that music truly was.

Granddaddy would live with us periodically but I don't think he ever wanted to.   The only time granddaddy would consent to live with us, to so much as spend the night,  was when he was gravely ill.  He was very independent and preferred his own farm.

Granddaddy's farm was Awesome! Vineyards, fruit trees, pecan trees, …just a virtual paradise. About as close to the Garden of Eden imaginable for a mere human being.  The house was huge, rambling.  It had electricity, no plumbing.  Granddaddy's "Out House" was a two seater.  I never understood that.  Perhaps it was for emergencies.  It really took an emergency for me to ever go in there.

First of all, it "stunk" like shit!  It should have.  It was a "Shit house".   An out house is simply an outdoor privy.  Granddaddy did dig an extremely deep hole.  As a child I did peer down there.  I did watch granddaddy throw lime on the fecal matter growing, climbing to the top.

I did use it when I got older.  When I became of age, too old for the woods.  I remember always reading the Sear and Roebuck Catalogs that lined the bench where the two holes were cut out.  I took care of my business as I gazed through the "wish book".  I marveled at every page.

Granddaddy taught me how to soften the torn pages to make the softest toilet paper possible.  I did.

My poor ignorant "mother"  was ashamed of the fact that her father did not have a flushing toilet.  The saddest fact is, he could have had one.  Perhaps if he did not have to shell out money to her every month like clockwork.  He could have put in a toilet.   It just didn't interest him.  He had the money but he wasn't stressing.

How many of us stress over the wrong things?  How many people want to look a certain way?  So many people are purely phony, hypocritical.  Worse, so many people are dumb.  Easily duped.  TWO CORINTHIANS Trump has a tantrum, refuses to debate.  How many people can see through this clown? "Make America great again!"?  When did we lose our greatness?  If we are such a loser country why are people "pouring in over our borders"?

Can a billionaire buy the Presidency of the United States?  Will true good citizens of this country allow such to happen?  Do most people really believe in color ranking?  My "mother" hollered color for eighty-seven years, she never believed it.  It was a convenient  excuse, a ruse, a distractor.

Martha needed something to make her feel good.  She was hopelessly common and immoral.  She was secretly ashamed.  It is a good thing she had to be so sneaky and clandestine in her attempts.

When all you have is your color, when you have to rely on color privilege , or "white privilege" to have your way, you are already lost.

First of all it is not a "Debate".  It is a lying contest.

Just how low is America?  Is it America or Amerikkka? If you are still measuring and ranking people by the color of their skin you live in Amerikkka.

I am girding up my loins.  I am healing.  Martha Jane Walters, not only did you gut me like a fish, you were the evil wicked demon that infiltrated the Walters family, the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church and you knew better.

Where is GOD!? Over here, making crooked ways straight! Snatching cloaks and blinders off! Blessing (His) anointed!

It is All in Divine Order!

Bow down satan!

Praise the LORD!