Dear Mom and Dad, P.S.

P.S.

A lot has changed since I last wrote to you … a lot! I hardly know where to start. But, I’m going to give it a try.

I’ll start with what’s happened in the nation in general. The panic over the nation of Islam and the terrorists it spawned has pretty much subsided. We endured eight years of a Democrat in the white house who was elected primarily because he’s African American on his father’s side. And then re-elected because the Republicans nominated a gutless wonder by the name of Romney.

The damage of that eight years was nearly irreparable, but one of the most unlikely people to be nominated by the Republicans and then elected president, Donald Trump began cleaning up the swamp. The only reason he doesn’t have a lock on election this time around is a Chinese originated virus that has killed over 150,000 people. The democrats and their willing accomplices in the press have done a pretty thorough job of blaming him even though he was the first president to stand up to the Chinese and begin the process of renegotiating all of the previous administrations’ bad trade deals. I can’t help but wonder if the Chinese didn’t deliberately spread the virus world-wide in order to derail those talks.

Now the democrats have swung so far to the left toward a near totally socialist agenda that even Granny would have to vote Republican, and you remember what die hard democrat she was. You should ask her about it. I’m sure she’s around up there somewhere.

So much for that. In my world, things have changed a lot too. After my letter to you was published with visions of royalties just pouring in and offers of a movie deal coming in by the day, I started working weekends at bar in Phoenix called The Cash Inn. And no, I didn’t start drinking again. I just liked being there and made a lot of friends there over the ensuing 5 or 6 years. The owners at the time Lisa and Adele, especially Lisa were some of my biggest supporters.

I got a considerable amount of support from others in the LGBT community. Keith, who I identified as “Keifer” hired me to help him re-model two houses. Unfortunately, he died suddenly one day owing me a substantial amount of money and his partner refused to pay me the balance.

Then I went to work doing remodel and repair work on another bar, Plazma in Phoenix. I got to know the owner Jim through my pastor, Jabowa Whitehead. We used to go over there after church on Sunday afternoon and spend time getting to know other people in the church. At one time Jim gave me an advance on work I hadn’t done yet so I could buy books to sell at a college in California. Which brings me to another person; someone who has become just about the best friend I’ve ever had, with one exception, that of course being The Blue Magnet.

I have to admit that I don’t remember exactly what year it was when Christine Curtain, The Little Green-Eyed Blonde introduced me to Jimmy Urbanovich, but it had to have been at least eleven or twelve years ago. Since that time, he and his wife Renee’ have become not only important supporters but have also become good friends. Jimmy has invited me back to speak at Crafton Hills College in Yucaipa every year but this year and that being the result of Covid-19. Renee was instrumental in getting a promotional video produced by her son for me to use, in an effort to book speaking engagements, but before any could be arranged Covid-19 hit.

However, the really big, I mean REALLY big events of my life have been one event leading to another, leading to another.

Seven years ago, this last June my financial situation had become desperate. I had been applying everywhere for jobs; Circle K, Quick Stop, Walmart, Lowe’s and Home Depot just to mention a few. I was really desperate. The leasing agent I leased my townhouse from had given me notice that they would no longer accept post dated checks for half of my rent. It was either pay all by the third of each month or face eviction. I would have taken any job offered at that point.

The last Monday in June I received an e-mail from The Home Depot central hiring in Atlanta. It said they had attempted to call me for an interview the previous Friday, but I had not answered. Was I still interested in applying for a job there? I couldn’t dial the number fast enough. After an initial phone interview at that time an interview was scheduled for 8:00 AM the following Tuesday at Depot 469 in Mesa.

My interview with ASM Vicki went so well that she asked if I could possibly return for an interview with the Specialty ASM Jeremy the next day. I said “Of course.” Then she asked if I was willing to come back that afternoon. “Heck, I’ll wait if it’s this afternoon.”

She responded that Jeremy wouldn’t be in until 1:00 PM. So, the appointment was set for 2:30 that afternoon. Jeremy and I talked twenty minutes or so and then he took me out to the kitchen showroom and asked me to sell him every product they had. I honestly don’t think he believed that I had as much experience as I did. At any rate he said he would call me the next day. I thought, “Sure you will.” Several years before I had been told that by another Home Depot and never heard a word. But, he called me the next day and said I was hired.

My first official day was July 17, 2013. I anticipated a year or so at The Home Depot. But seven years later and I’m still there.

In the meantime, Mom passed away the last week of September 2014. After all was settled and her home sold, I was the recipient of a third of her remaining estate. On my way home from Utah after having emptied her home of seventy-five years of memorabilia, treasures and personal things of no value to anyone but family, I realized that something I had thought would never be possible, would be.

I had been living and working as Georgia for more than seven years even though the name change hadn’t been legally official until January 5, 2009. At the court hearing for the name change, when it was my turn to stand before the judge, he looked over the papers, and then looking at me said, “I think this is very appropriate. Petition granted.”

I had been on hormone therapy for almost as long and had become used to the idea that whatever was under my skirt wasn’t nearly as important as what was in my heart and head. So, with the realization that a complete transition was now possible, but also having witnessed the tragic result of hasty decisions in regard to Gender Reassignment Surgery I decided to take my time and be sure it was the right thing for me to do. So I waited and I considered all the implications of what I was contemplating.

The first person to learn of what I was considering was Christine. The first Thanksgiving after we met, I had spent with her and family and friends. After all the hoopla was over and everyone had departed and we were alone I had asked her if it would make any difference to her, regarding our relationship if I ever did take that step. Her reply was, “Of course not and she would go with me wherever I needed to go and hold my hand as long as necessary.”

I called her sometime in the middle of December and asked her if the promise was still good. She said, “Of course.” I told her I hadn’t made a firm decision but was thinking about it.

I waited until sometime in February to contact Dr. Marcy Bowers. Over time I had always known that if I ever took that step, she was the only surgeon I would consider. That was because she, herself was a transsexual and had taken over the practice of Dr. Stanley Bieber in Trinidad Colorado.

My first appointment with her was on March 30th, 2015. I still wasn’t sure that I wanted to go ahead and planned on waiting another couple of months before I made a final decision.

Naturally I gave her a copy of “Dear Mom and Dad” when she entered the examination room and after introductions she asked me if I had any questions for her and I said,

“Am I too old?”

“Why do you think you are too old?”

“I’m seventy years old.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m seventy years old.”

“When I first saw you, I assumed I was dealing with someone in their mid-fifties.”

I could have kissed her right then and there.

But to answer my question, she said that I wasn’t too old. She had performed the surgery on people in their eighties.

As the interview was winding down, she said that her good fortune was my misfortune because she was booked out for two and a half years. My heart sank. Then she added, “But for you, I will get you in within nine months if I have to work an extra day of the week.”

Before I left the office, I filled out the necessary paperwork and left a deposit.

About two weeks later I got a call from her practice manager, Robin. She was calling to verify my insurance information that Aetna was my primary through my employer and that Medicare was secondary. I told her yes but that I didn’t want Home Depot hassled about coverage; I had the money.

Robin said she didn’t know what I had heard but that they didn’t hassle the insurance company. All they did was send a letter asking if it was a covered procedure. I said that if that was all they did then fine, but the answer would be “no”. Then I went on with my life.

The last week in June, I was preparing to go on vacation in Monument Valley and Durango when I received a letter from Aetna. There’s my denial of coverage letter I thought. I opened it up and started reading. In the middle of the page was the following:

“Gender Reassignment Surgery: Covered procedure.

What? No! That can’t be right. I folded it up and put it back in the envelope. I waited a few minutes and took the letter out again and re-read it. Yup! That’s what it said. “Gender Reassignment Surgery: Covered Procedure”

I called Robin the next morning and told her about the letter and asked if she had been notified. She said no, but they usually didn’t hear until a week or so after the patient did. So, I went on vacation and returned to work on a Thursday in mid-July. The next day, Friday, Robins office was closed at noon, so I e-mailed her and asked if she had received confirmation of coverage.

Monday morning, about 10:00 my phone rang. It was Robin. She said yes, they had received a confirmation from Aetna and that all I owed was $4,000. Then she said,

“So, how about September 2nd?

“For what?”

“Your surgery.”

I was speechless. I couldn’t breathe. Finally, Robin said,

“Are you there?”

“Uh Yeah.”

“Do you want that date?”

It took a few seconds for it to sink in; that the final decision moment had arrived. I finally said, “Yes, I do.”

“Do you want Dr. Beck to do the breast implants at the same time?”

“If it’s going to happen that soon, yes I do.”

“Then the date is September 1st.”

It had been just five months since Dr. Bowers had said she would get me in in nine months if she had to work an extra day of the week. I called Christine and told her I was making plane reservations for August 31st.

The only other thing I’m going to add is this; I had not been anesthetized since I had my tonsils out when I was 5 years old. I had no idea what to expect. The anesthetist came in to pre-op and said he was going to give me something to relax me, then something to put me to sleep and then would use general anesthesia for the surgery which all together would last six to seven hours.

The next thing, I’m awake and wondering when are they going to get started? Then,

“Oh crap, it’s all done!”

Then, what I knew was possible but didn’t think would happen to me, happened.

“Oh my God, what have I done. I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

But there was no turning back now. I had crossed the Rubicon. I immediately went to work on my own emotions and within two hours I was okay and have never looked back since. It was the right thing for me … Georgia.

George? He’s still there … in my subconscious now just as I was in his for sixty plus years. And he gets in his two bits worth from time to time just like I did to him.

It was not quite a year later that the love of my life, Georgia’s life, entered my life and has made me happy beyond belief. The Blue Magnet makes every day memorable and generally fills it with laughter.

If you are new to my blog, you can read about her and our relationship in posts of February 21st, 2017 and again September 3, 2018.

And the last thing of importance, though tragic, has been the untimely death of my pastor, brother and friend, T.C. “Jabowa” Whitehead. A blog entry on June 2 of this year is a tribute to him. His importance in my life is one of the very last things I wrote about in “Dear Mom and Dad.”

Well, Mom and Dad, that’s pretty much all that’s happened in the last 8 years and not that I don’t look forward to seeing you, I’m just not ready to call it quits down here. I still have books to write and I haven’t had near enough time with The Blue Magnet yet.

Love,

Georgia

P.P.S. And oh yeah … I’ve been ordained an Elder in my church and have actually delivered 3 sermons in the last 2 months, not to mention a lot of introductory messages over the last 4 or 5 years. You can catch them on my Facebook page when you have time.

Frustration is turning to Anger

My frustration is turning to anger. Maybe the final straw was seeing a mob; that’s the only word for it; pulling down a statue of Francis Scott Key in San Francisco. So what if he was a slave owner. If what I recall of my education is correct; and I’m pretty damn sure it’s because the NEA hadn’t corrupted the system yet; most of the signers of the declaration of independence were slave owners. My guess is that there wasn’t a single one of those fools involved in the destruction of that statue that’s had any seriously accurate education in our history.

It’s highly unlikely that any of the people who did own slaves were the ones to go to Africa and kidnap the people they “owned”. The slave traffickers in many cases weren’t even the ones to kidnap the people they trafficked in. In most cases the unfortunate people to be sold into slavery were captured and sold by other black tribesmen or Arab Muslim slavers.

But all that knowledge is secondary to the root cause of all the turmoil in our country. That root cause is total and complete lack of basic education and sense of responsibility for one’s own actions. Parents are turning the education and upbringing of their children over to the state. And the cities and states that are the most affected with the problem are those run by liberal politicians like Bill DeBlasio of New York City.

I know that conservative news and commentary outlets see this, but why don’t people on the left at least give lip service to the issue? Can it be possible that they really don’t want to see it because it’s such a glaring example of what liberal progressivism does to the soul of the communities it has taken root in? I tend to think that is the case.

Everything Marxism and Maoism teach is on full display with each and every march and riot that’s occurring on a daily basis. Has our education system become so badly directed that the average person is totally convinced that they owe nothing to the society they live in and that the government is there to provide them with not only the necessities of life but all the goodies that come from a free enterprise form of economy?

So yes, I am angry that people I know, people I care about and people I love are so totally ingrained with an attitude of hatred toward everything that has made this country the one place on the face of the earth where everyone wants to live.

I’m angry that everything about this country that I love and hold dear has become a target of hatred and a form of reverse prejudice.

I’m angry that the press in general, the liberal politicians, the entrenched bureaucracy in Washington, the public education system have all been co-opted by the notion that only a relatively few elites have the vision and correct idea of what is right and what is wrong.

I’m angry that those same people who have made common sense a thing to be laughed at and belittled, are the ones making decisions that affect my life and the pursuit of happiness embodied in our declaration of independence.

And I’m angry that those people who are supposed to be the defenders of free speech; the educators, the liberal politicians and most of all the press, think that I am ignorant because I am a Christian, a politically conservative Christian, a politically conservative Christian trans-sexual; that since I’m all these things, I can’t have an opinion worth voicing.

I could go on indefinitely about what started out as frustration and has now become anger and how that anger makes me want to lash out, but I don’t believe that’s productive, so I won’t.

If you’ve read this far, I think you get my point. I’m angry.

“Taradiddle”

“Taradiddle!” When that word popped up as my M-W Word of the day it happened to correspond with the frustration and growing anger I’ve been feeling about the current state of our nation’s political situation.

I don’t know exactly when I realized a very basic difference between the appeal of liberal political thought and the ideas behind conservative political thought. That difference has been described as the difference in emotion (liberal appeal) and logic (conservative reason).

When I listen to the statements and appeal of the liberal democrat party members of congress and their acolytes I’m left with a sense that what I have just heard is what is described in the definition of the word “taradiddle.” All too often they are stretching and distorting a partial truth into a “small lie,” a “fib”. Or, at best, in terms of an alternate definition of taradiddle “pretentious nonsense.”

Trying to get a liberal democrat to have a conversation on ideas, right and wrong, is nearly an exercise in frustration. The common response to that attempt is an immediate “let’s just agree to disagree.” There is in liberalism a fear of reason and logic. Regardless of the origin of a liberal’s adherence to the tenets of liberalism; one grew up in that environment and has never questioned or investigated the ideology; one sees people who have a degree of financial success, whether earned through hard work or inheritance, as winners in a perceived life lottery.

There is a fear of risk embodied in liberalism, and the vocal spokesmen for the liberal left capitalize on that fear by pushing the idea that the choices one makes in life are not responsible for their situation. Losing at life’s lottery is the reason for their situation. It doesn’t seem to make any difference what their situation is; it would always be better if it wasn’t for that evil life’s lottery.

Another cause for liberal “reason” is, in my opinion, a desire to be absolved of the idea embodied in Christs admonishment that it’s our individual responsibility to help those legitimately less fortunate individuals in society. The idea they seem to follow is that the government is more capable of determining who is deserving of help. Coupled with this is the notion that those with wealth are a stingy lot and it’s up to the government to see to it that they pay their fair share in helping the less fortunate. Frankly, my experience has been that liberals with money are the stingy ones. After all they pay taxes to help the poor so why should they contribute anything of what they have left to help the poor.

The result is now several generations, of educators and media filling “young skulls full of mush” with more “mush” about their lack of responsibility for their actions and the lack of responsibility for their individual situations. Liberalism is all about lack of an individual’s personal responsibility for whatever situation they find themselves in. In other words, liberalism is all about keeping people from growing up; becoming adults. Because if they do grow up and become adults they will never succumb to the notion that other people are better suited to controlling the direction and outcome of their lives.

So, here we are, “spoiled children” being told that their temper tantrums; marching in the streets, destroying other people’s property in the process, shouting down any and every point of view not their own; that these temper tantrums are excusable and justified. After all, they aren’t responsible for their behavior; someone else is.

When that behavior erupts into violence we have liberal leadership behaving in one of 2 ways: either silent acquiescence or outright encouragement of the kind exhibited by Representative Maxine Waters and others of her ilk. I cannot remember any circumstance where a conservative leader has ever encouraged the kind of physical violence that is being encouraged by liberals at all levels of leadership.

What liberals, due to their total lack of reason, do not realize is the backlash that will result if they are successful at depriving the hard-working people of this country their shot at a society where hard work is rewarded by financial security of their own making. What the liberals also fail to recognize is the backlash that will be forthcoming if they are successful at removing the president who was elected by those hardworking people who were sick and tired of liberal politicians deciding what the hardworking people could keep of their own money.

What liberals also fail to recognize is that people, like me, see them for who they really are; power hungry individuals who want to maintain or gain power by continuing the lie that hardworking people are responsible for the condition of those who, either do not want to achieve through their own efforts or through the efforts of others. Or, have come to believe that they will never achieve their life’s dreams so why try. Just accept the liberal mantra that it’s not their fault.

Just accept the liberal “taradiddle” and spend the rest of one’s life miserable.

What, you may ask, does this have to do with gender identity issues? Not much. I am a human being first. And I despair when I see my ideals and common sense disparaged and my dreams threatened by self-centered egotistical politicians and activists.

I’m Fed Up …

That’s right! I’m fed up! And I’m sick and tired of cry babies who enjoy thinking they are victims of society. I don’t care what your issue is … quit blaming society, the world around you, for your situation. With the exception of skin color, or birth defect (and I think some people of “color” consider the color of their skin a “birth defect”) it is my firm conviction that whatever your situation, if your actions are traced back to the very source of that situation you will find inevitably that where you are now is the result a decision that you made on your own in the past. That is a hard fact in my own life.

I ‘ll start with gender identity issues.

As you undoubtedly know, I have a gender identity issue. The body I was born with didn’t match the set of emotions I was born with. And, as most of you know already, it took me years to come to grips with why I didn’t feel like I fit in … anywhere.

I eventually began to unravel the various emotional conflicts that had been lurking beneath the surface of my conscious thought processes. I had to deal with the fact that the people in my life who had known nothing but the person of “George” rejected my emergence. They didn’t like who I was. They didn’t like how I looked. In many respects I didn’t like how I looked. I could see “George” through the makeup and the mannerisms.

Through all the processes of learning who and why I was who I was, it never once occurred to me to blame society for my situation … not once. If it came to blame I realized that there was only one entity to blame for my situation. That was God.

Why did He fashion me in a way that confused me and made me a subject for derision and jokes on late night television?

That is an answer I will probably never get in this lifetime. It will be the first question I ask when I at last stand before Him to have my life judged once and for all.

It was up to me to deal with the fact that society had trouble accepting me. The first thing I had to come to grips with, was my own attitude about the way God created me. As I shared in “Dear Mom and Dad”, that solution was to verbally and aloud, say that I would accept His creation as a gift and not a curse. It was undoubtedly the most freeing moment of my life, in more ways than one.

When I eventually became involved in the gender community, the very first thing I realized was that a substantial portion of the gender variant people are an unhappy lot. They seldom smile. They walk around with a chip on their shoulder just begging someone to try to knock it off. Why would anyone want to live their life that way?

I know it’s a simple answer but it is answer that I have found no way to refute. They appear to enjoy being victims of their circumstance. And as such they are required to don a certain persona. That persona is crowned by a furtive frown. It’s as if they walk around looking for rejection and take solace in finding exactly what they are looking for. The problem is that it’s not because of their gender appearance; they exude a fear of what people think about them.

When I finally accepted the way I was, the way God made me, I was free to be happy and when I was happy I smiled. Have you ever noticed that people who smile are practically never ridiculed or scorned? People who are smile and laugh draw people to them … regardless of their gender identity and they seldom suffer discrimination.

And that brings me to the issue of racial discrimination.

I personally have never, ever in my life discriminated against any human being because of the color of their skin … and I know very few people who do

Victimhood is a pernicious disease that I simply have little patience for.  If a person feels that the color of their skin is a reason for being “victimized” then blame God. After all He is the one that made you that way.  I have never in my life been the least bit racially intolerant. When I see a bunch of overpaid ungrateful athletes disrespect our country, and those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice, by refusing to stand and place their hand over their hearts at a football game it makes me angry.

I think they should all be required to visit central Africa to see first-hand how the majority of “people of color” live in this world.

Get over it. If your skin is black, or some mixture of same, quit feeling sorry for yourself. Knock the black chip off your shoulder and face the fact that everyone faces some sort of discrimination in their lives.  Accept the fact that it was God who made you that way. Society did not make you that way for the sole purpose of discriminating against you.

I don’t discriminate against you because of the color of your skin. I discriminate against you because you choose to be a victim, just as I discriminate against any person fortunate enough to live in this country and chooses the role of victim.

Victimhood is a handy excuse for failing do whatever is required to live up to one’s potential.

Short of being the victim of a real crime, like robbery, assault or murder, no one in this county has a right to the claim of “victim”. (Well, maybe the good people who paid good money to see a sporting event and have to observe the crybaby athletes’ refusal to honor the country, have a right to the claim of “victim.”) In their number I doubt you will find any who have ever served their county, with the exception of the one real hero, Alejandro Villanueva of the Pittsburg Steelers.

In closing I will say it one more time … I don’t care if your issue is gender identity, sexual orientation or race … get over it and smile and thank whoever you thank, because you live the greatest country, with the greatest level of acceptance and opportunity to ever exist on this earth.

I agree … to disagree!

Sometimes I just don’t know what to say or where to start when I do figure out what to say. So I think that I will, in football lingo, just backup ten yards and punt.

I have been silent the last two weeks because I have been preoccupied with politics and the machinations of our political parties. I never cease to be amazed by the stark differences and how they can be construed as being so similar. This past week and a half has brought home to me what Mom said to me when I asked her what the difference was between Republicans and Democrats. I’ve shared this statement recently, but I will share it again here for purposes of clarifying what I’m about to say.

Mom said, “Republicans believe that the individual is better suited to make decisions about their own lives than government and Democrats believe that government is better able to make those decisions for us.”

In the intervening years I have seen nothing to change that understanding, aside from the fact that at times, some Republicans tend to behave and vote more as if they are smarter and more capable of making decisions that affect my life than I am.

Cases in point: The last Republican president that I felt had a genuine concern for my self-determination was Ronald Reagan. When it came to George H. W. Bush, a.k.a “Bush 41”, while I thought he was a decent man with the courage to confront Saddam Hussein he lacked the courage and conviction to confront the enemy at home. I read his lips as well as his subsequent excuse for backing down from confrontation with Democrats over taxes.

In subsequent elections I voted for what I considered the lesser of two evils when I voted first for Bob Dole, then George W Bush, although I felt after the fact that he did turn out to be the right man for the time … internationally speaking, though not domestically.

I held my nose when I drew the line on my ballot indicating my choice of John McCain and then overcame a case of the vapors in order to do the same for Mitt Romney. In each case I clearly understood that the “establishment” was not adhering to Mom’s definition of a Republican. But, I also clearly understood that the ideology of the democrat party was not even close to my belief in my own right to self-determination. And that brings me to our current national dilemma and its relation to my personal identity.

In a recent blog post I share the reaction of a woman I met recently when I told her I was a Republican. She was aghast because in her experience the Republican party had shunned people like me, and to a degree she was right. But … she was right only in the sense that certain individuals within the party were extreme in their “hyper-conservative Christianity.”

In the years since I became involved in the community of people who, when lumped together are known as “LGBT – Q,” I have come to the conclusion that a majority of the misunderstandings the rest of our society have of us is due to the fact that, for the most part, the “community” does not make much of an effort to blend. Instead they tend to pursue a policy of separate but equal with special consideration for their personal identity. They make their sexual and/or gender identity the primary identity ahead of their humanity.

My gender identity has absolutely no more to do with my politics than the color of my eyes. Right is right and wrong is wrong, or in this case, the Right is correct and the Left is wrong … at least for me.

I am simply not willing to surrender any more of my freedoms for the lip service support of the Democrat party and its leadership.

I am simply not willing to overlook the dishonesty and corruption at the head of that column for the sake of using the bathroom of my choice.

I am simply not willing to overlook the fact that if all the promises made by Hillary and Bernie were kept that our nation would be bankrupt before the next election.

I am simply not willing to overlook the fact that well-meaning people whom I love have failed to live up to their personal promises, such as “When I have the right to marry the person I love, then I will come to your side of the aisle.”

I am simply not willing to abandon my principles for the sake of a free lunch. I choose to work for a living and buy my own lunch, thank you.

When I state that I can find no Christian ethic in the progressive/liberal policies of today’s Democrat party the usual response is this. “Jesus told the wealthy to go and sell their possessions and give the proceeds to the poor.” That’s what the Democrats are trying to convince us that they are accomplishing by wanting laws that take money from the wealthy and dole it out to the poor.

That is not what Jesus meant at all. He didn’t demand that emperors and kings take money from the selfish wealthy and dole it out. He intended it to be a voluntary effort to show their “Christianity,” for lack of a better term in this discussion. I doubt that if Christ were alive today he would approve of society absolving people of personal responsibility to those less fortunate by voting for those who would “rob the rich and give to the poor.” Where is the virtue in that? There is none is there? It’s a simple fact that the more money confiscated by the IRS the less is collected in the plate on Sunday mornings, and that is where Christian charity lies.

If you are shocked by my political philosophy because my gender identity seems to dictate that I support a progressive/liberal/socialistic agenda consider this: in my experience, any attempt to share my political views, and reasons for those views, with members of the aforementioned group, generally leads to one of two responses. I’m either flatly informed that the person isn’t interested in my views or, “We’ll just have to agree to disagree.” That last statement would be reasonable enough if it followed an intelligent two-way give and take conversation … but it never does. It’s always a way to avoid reasonable discussion.

I have found it far easier to have a reasoned discussion about gender identity with a hyper-conservative Christian than I can a reasoned discussion about politics with a progressive/liberal/socialistic democrat. So with that said I will involve myself in activities of groups like the Log Cabin Republicans, the Tea Party and with the majority of conservatives who I have found to be willing to accept me for who I am rather than what I am.