Delete,Delete,Delete

I woke up this morning to read a post on my Facebook against Obama that can only be described as hateful and racist.  What was even more disgusting was a few people agreed with it, even posting, “Well said.”  Well said???  What is the matter with you people?  When did this name-calling and hate spewing become a substitute for discourse and conversation?  When will I quit asking questions? 
I am from Orange County, California and what I did not know growing up was I was from a Democratic family adrift in a sea of Republicans.  It wasn’t a big deal then.  My parents did not like Nixon but they respected he was the President and never said, “I told you so.” when it turns out they were quite right about him.  I have reconnected with a lot of people from my home-town of Brea through Facebook. It appears that not only are they still Republican, but a couple of them are viciously mean and racist when discussing Obama. I understand being upset with a President. I have spent the majority of my adult life not particularly liking whoever was President. I do not understand, however, the amount of hatred, vitriol, violent threats and meanness directed toward Barack Obama. Oh wait, yes I do.   One of my favorite posts regarding Ann Romney written on Facebook, “It will be so nice to have a beautiful intelligent first lady again.”  Hmm.  I am playing the race card because I have seen it written down.  I saw it on a soon to be former Facebook friends post this morning. 
I have one friend from Brea that I am still in contact with through Facebook or phone almost daily.  Wendy and I have been friends since Junior High but we were kind of “off campus” friends meaning we hung out with different groups at school.  When we really needed to talk, rant or get advice we would always turn toward each other and still do.  When we were Freshman I found a marijuana cigarette or what I was told to call a “joint” in a purse my sister and I shared and I freaked out.  I was pretty hysterical about holding an illegal substance in my hands so I called Wendy and asked her what to do.  She told me to calm down she’d be right over.  She arrived five minutes later in her green Brea Olinda High School band uniform and told me to give her the joint and she would take care of it.  It took me fifteen years to figure out that she and the rest of the brass section smoked it under the bleachers during that nights’ football game.   Wendy has always been the voice of reason in my ear. She is nicer than I am and believes people are good even when they say or do bad things.  I admire that about her and I wish I were more like her.  Maybe Wendy is right and our mutual Brea friends are good people in spite of their offensive posts.  They call themselves good people and talk about God and church and all.  What does God think of hate and racism?  I can’t reconcile it so I will leave it to Wendy to explain the psychology to me as she has done for almost forty years.   In the meantime I will just keep pressing delete.

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