My Brother is a Butthole.

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I called the Tennessee Democratic Party to get the number of who I would contact in Dickson
to get a sign.  Because it’s giving me heartburn and truly upsetting me that four separate yards in Burns have a “Hillary for President sign” before me.  And my homemade sign is not doing so well. I was deciphering between using my Amazon gift cards to order a Hillary sign or just asking for one for my birthday, when I decided to call the Tennessee Democratic party to see about the supersized one they usually bring us.

So, I get in touch with this really nice lady Mrs. Wright and I tell her my name and what I want and we make arrangements to meet to get a sign. When she hears that I’m looking for one for Burns,  she says, “Well, your mayor come and got 20 of them yesterday.”

Ummm…ehh?

I asked her again, “The mayor came and got 20 of them yesterday?”

“Sure did,” she says.

“Ma’am,” I say, “the mayor is my brother and the sign is for his grandmother.”

“Ohhhh,” she says, “What have I started now?”

Trouble for him.

Here I am hyperventilating with my sad, stressed, weak heart over not being able to have the first Hillary sign in Burns and my brother has had some since yesterday?

Whaaaaaaat??

Busted.

Then,  she asked me, “Did you say your name was Candi Mathis? Are you the same girl that writes all the good stuff for the paper? You’re not her, are you? The girl with all the good writing?”

I said,” Well ma’am, that would depend on who you ask. It’s not been well received in some social circles.”

Which is kind of an understatement.

She said, “No, no — you’ve got some fans here! And we’d love to meet you.”

That was really kind. I needed that.

Sometimes I think you listen to the voices that tell you that you can’t; you’re dumb; you’re wrong so much and so long that you start to believe them.

Okay, actually, that’s not true. I’ve never believed that I was dumb.  But I guess you get so used to the put-downs, you forget what it feels like to get a compliment. I suppose you start to accept that any and everybody around here is an irrational, ill-informed, scarcely read Obama hater.

You couple that with a compliment I got on my writing from my grandfather’s longtime friend Curtis when I answered the phone last week, and man — my head might begin to swell!

I said it before, I’ll say it again — you want to fix national politics, put more women in it.

It’s always started with that same root problem of some man taking credit for what some woman — who has been in the back room, reading, writing, doing — has done. Look at Hillary Clinton’s career. She was always behind the scenes, but Bill was one with all the glory and credit — and he’s a Rhodes scholar, plenty deserved and capable and genuis in his own right — but, the country had to get to a place where we are ready to accept women on the forefront in so many arenas before Hillary had the same chance.

Keep writing, keep reading, keep doing the damn thing, ladies. 

Politics is full of men like Donald Trump who could be bought off with a compliment and a cookie. Women stick to their guns and they fight for it — whatever it is — and we’ve had men screwing up deals for decades.

While history is full of men like Barack Obama, who have made a difference, who are honorable, charismatic, genuine, sincere, and successful, I can’t help but wonder what this country would look like if some of those same shared-trait women had the opportunity.

18 million cracks in the glass ceiling that has now been shattered, is about to change things in a way that women in this country only hoped for, but could never quite fathom.

If more women keep standing up, keep refusing to be silenced, quieted or called “sweetheart” while simultaneously refusing to being bullied, stalked or intimidated into that preferential quiet oblivion — imagine the possibilities of what might get done.

Because women have been the unacknowledged backbone of almost every change, every movement, in American history. It’s our time, ladies — keep speaking out.

And my brother is not on my Facebook, so I doubt he’ll read this, but if someone sees him, tell I said he’s still a butthole for the delay on that sign!

I’ve had heartburn like crazy over being out-Hillary swagged. It’s not fair to do that to a sister.

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