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I POSTED THIS #METOO blog in May, but decided affronting you with opinion wouldn’t be good for sales, you know, I’m mostly supposed to be uplifting, so didn’t email you about it. But I decided to push it around the internet today because of this disgusting (&#$!*) Epstein mess. After the awesome news that Labor Secretary Alex Acosta resigned I could no longer resist emailing you, I guess to see if you connect with it.

BY THE WAY, no wonder more girls didn’t speak out or press charges TEN YEARS AGO. 2008-9 should go down in our memory as Years of Utter Blight and Injustice for women who were foolish enough to step forward, like Marie in Seattle, a teenager RAPED by a University of Washington football player too valuable to convict. God bless you, Marie.

So here’s my bitty #metoo contribution (which pales compared to that of the precious girls in NY, FL, NM and around the world, whom I esteem for their courage and vow to prayerfully support, they’re going to need it):

“If you’re a blonde female with red-headed kids some men think it’s funny to make comments about how you accidentally made babies with the “mail- or milk-man”. They make these comments to an audience, never one-to-one. The comments don’t come from women.

Let’s deconstruct! If I have redheaded kids it’s not because of the rare, recessive gene that must be present in the DNA of both parents to create locks of gorgeous hair and adorable little red-headed baby freckles. It MUST be because I had unprotected sex with a man I’m not married to who visits the house on a route. Was it steamy romantic sex? I’m guessing it was rushed, so let’s imagine it is! Nothing else to do, I guess I waited for him to randomly show up. I’d have to be super dolled up, act demure and needy enough to interrupt USPS deliveries. My husband left me home and went to work, so, I’m game for just anything.

I get it, this stuff happens all the time! …I wish I weren’t so touchy and old school. Lots of women relish mysogynistic comments and find their meaning in sexuality. But at a party last New Year’s Eve a guy guest made a lascivious remark to the entire room while I retrieved dice from under the table, and everyone laughed. I determined never to be silent about sexually charged “jokes” again.

Last Tuesday the Mail Man Joke came from someone I care about. When I said “That’s disgusting and vulgar.” he immediately agreed, later kind of apologized, but…. not before making a “Wow, touchy!” look to others in the room. “I’m sorry if I offended you”? Better (in front of the audience), “That was utterly out of line. I hope you’ll forgive me?” I did, I absolutely do.

There’s overlap, I think, with #metoo and racism in America today: The “unwitting ignorance” of some decent men with what my African American brother-in-law experiences all the time. He and my sister were in Ellensburg recently, having stopped for breakfast, and had to leave because three white guys were cooking up to fight him (he’s super muscle-y and not small). Do white guys sometimes have to leave a restaurant in Washington state in the middle of their meal, or risk bloodshed? Probably not. “I’m not racist! I totally like you!”, I tell him …he stares at me, blinks. He knows I’m not afraid of cops, and that I will never fully understand how my white privilege effects people of color (click on this, I kind of dare you). “Take a knee during the national anthem?!? Unpatriotic ingrates!”. If he has the grace not to blame me for it, who am I to blame men, especially good ones?

I’m getting older, so the number of unwelcome or nasty comments I’ve received from men over the years must be up in the 100’s. I almost always report them to my husband (of 30+ years, BTW, my very best friend). He’s talked me off this ledge before – and expertly reminded me that “…so-and-so just dropped the petal in the pond, Win.” Steve is utterly gentle and understanding about these events for two reasons: 1) He wants me to live free; and 2) Because he knows the minds of even the very best men, how their stupid comments can activate every detail of my own #metoo pain.

Love,

Win