Listen to the Silence

So, I had the experience of taking my daughter shopping for panties today. Understand - I was her single father Dad for the first three or four years of her life, until my girl (the collared, marriage-ish one) came into our lives. I should be able to handle this.   Right?   Good. I'm a cop.   I have a gun.   I've been shot at.    I've been stabbed.  I can handle a little underwear shopping. Yeah. Not so much. Fucking panties.   Underwear shopping should be grabbing a bag of something vaguely the right size and burying it under other things until checkout time comes. That's how we do it in America.   (That's how we men do it, anyway). So. As I'm crouching down in the women's underwear section, feeling like a pedophile, I'm trying to keep my patrol cap down so I don't feel the thousands of eyes watching.  (They're there.   I'm sure of it.)   And then I realize...there's more than one kind of panty. I realize...

I am not white.    Voting the way I do doesn't change that I'm Native, and the son of hundreds of generations of the People.   Please stop saying that I voted the way I did because I'm "just another white guy". I am not "hetero".   I am a sadist.   I don't care what tackle it has, as long as it whimpers, moans and cries.  (Maybe bleeds, a little.) I am not "bigoted".   I'm not even sure what I'm supposedly bigoted about (nobody will answer my questions on that), but I'm pretty sure I'm too laid back and uninvolved to be bigoted. I am not "imperialist".   My people are still living in poverty.  And proud of it, when the other choice is taking government handouts. I am not a "rich capitalist pig".   I'm a cop, and believe me - we're nowhere near rich.   Most of us are just barely making it, supporting a family.   I am not a "cis-gendered" individual who is "privileged" ...