MONTECITO MURMURS: CALL ME ROBERTA

The Underbelly of America's Most Expensive ZIP Code

Yo, folks, sorry to have to tell you this but, like, I’ve decided to become a woman.

Call me Roberta.

I’m keeping my whiskers and my private parts but, like, I may do some hormonal therapy, see if I can produce milk, I mean, just for the fun of going cow, pass me a Bud Light.

What really interests me is being able to, like, hang out in the women’s locker room at my local Y (heh, heh), bond with my new buds, uh, babes.

And, like, maybe sign up for a sport, finally win a competition playing against others of the gender with which I identify.

I mean, like, I’ll be able to join the Gender Liberation Front and physically attack, without fear of any kind of legal pushback, those fuddy-duddies who, you know, stick with their birth gender and won’t, like, get with our new gender bender look for America where no one will be a Mr. or Ms. anymore, everyone will be a Pn., you know, short for “person” or “pronoun”—no more of this man and woman crap, just a whole society of gender blenders.

Wait a second, a google search produces nothing about any organization called Gender Liberation Front. This is great, man, I mean, woman! I mean, I can do it myself and be the grand poo-bah and, you know, raise millions of dollars, buy a few houses to hang out in, just like the folks who run Black Lives Matter, right?

So, like, consider me Roberta, head of the Gender Liberation Front and, I mean, send donations because it’s time, you know, for me to get rich quick! Cos working is a pain in the ass, right?

I haven’t decided what pronoun to use so, like, I thought I’d go with US, short for Un Sure.

Yo, scratch that. I don’t want any association with patriotism to America, which, you know, was totally built by mean old white slave masters on the backs of African American slaves, right?

            REVISIONIST BARBEQUE 

Because now that I’m, like, reborn as a fully woke transsexual, I don’t think it’s fair, you know, to tear down and destroy statues of George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. No, no, no.  I mean, you know, we’ve got to track down all their descendants and shit and confiscate all their money and stuff, their homes and cars, give them to the homeless. Another problem solved, right?

And it goes without saying we gotta burn down every school named after Washington and Jefferson. Call it, you know, a revisionist barbeque. Toss in a bunch of books by sexist, racist authors—even better, burn down all the libraries—who needs ‘em, right?

Gee, this rant is making me miss the summer of ‘21, turning cities like Portland and Seattle into, like, burned-out cesspools. Maybe I should move to Chicago, they still got a cool vibe going over yonder, what a riot! 

As for reparations, there’s no question, I mean, the whole country has to follow the recommendation of San Fran’s really smart reparations whatsit and give each and every black person in each and every state five million buckaroonies. Plus cancel their debt, mortgages and car finance loans, get those U.S. Mint presses rolling, create another five trillion dollars backed by nothing and, like, add it to the $31 trillion national debt.

What’s another five trillion bucks, right?

Doesn’t matter to us because we entitled half-wits have never, like, felt the hardship of war on our own turf, everything is peachy dandy, so we’ve got every reason, you know, to be spoiled, whiney, self-entitled morons with too much spare time, which we put to good use by focusing on all kinds of trivial nonsense that makes us the laughingstock of the world. Right?

Uh, jeez, no, wrong. 

Sorry if I sort-a strayed to my obviously misguided roots, which of course I’ll renounce upon my rebirth as a born-again transexual—my new religion. So let’s, like, circle back to my main point, right?

My Gender Liberation Front will demand that all transgender surgeries be free, you know, paid for by the government. We’ll demand that all children, as soon as they can say “goo-goo, gaga,” will have the right to, like, opt for surgery to mutilate their private parts and reproductive organs. Because who cares what their dumb, bigoted parents think. They’re just parents, right? I mean, WE are in charge now.

We’ll give our pets, you know, the same rights. Which as why, like, as head of the Gender Liberation Front I’ll bond with the Animal Liberation Front and, like, use my chihuahua bitch Lulu as an example. It’s clear, you know, she wants to be a dog, not a bitch. I can tell by the way she pees. So I need to find a vet who will, like, surgically transform her from a Lulu into a Louie. Any references? 

You need to, like, consider this for your pets too. Because that’s an order, by the way. We in the transsexual biz are sick and tired, you know, of making requests. I mean, these are demands, not requests, right?

Because we, our transsexual minority, has a government that adores us and, you know, let’s us do whatever the fuck we want, whenever the fuck we want to do it, wherever the fuck we want to do it. We can even, like, burn the American flag (just a rag, right?) and trample on the U.S. Constitution (fit for lining birdcages, right?) and the Bill of Rights, because both those dumb documents were thought up, you know, by a bunch of white bigots.

            REALITY

Stop. 

Back to reality. 

I’m sticking with Robert.

But I am not “anti-transsexual” nor “transphobic.” I believe each individual should be whatever he or she wants to be and follow his or her own bliss, whatever works.

But please don’t push it on me, my grandkids or society in general. 

If you disagree, that’s fine, disagreement is healthy for a democracy.  Our constitutional right to free speech is what makes our country great, as much as some try to “cancel” opinions they don’t like. 

For every argument there is a counterargument. F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote that the true test of intelligence is the ability to see both sides of any argument. What a horrible world this would be if everyone had the same uniform opinion about everything.

So feel welcome to say “hey” if you have an open mind and an ability to speak with some modicum of intelligence.  I don’t hide out. From anyone.

Maybe another point of view will alter what has been planted into highly impressionable grey matter by harebrained professors at liberal arts colleges littered around the country. Professors that we parents and grandparents trusted (at great expense) to provide a decent academic education so that those who will likely inherit only the wind will do something other than produce the crap we see flowing out their ears.

Conversely, I have an open mind and I’m always willing to listen and consider other points of view. 

But there is no need to scream or use profanity because, though very many have not learned this at college, truth never needs a loud or profane voice. 

Real truth is spoken softly.

For those who cannot be civil while voicing their views, may God help them.

But since they’ve been talked out of believing in God, may He help the rest of us while we continue to endure a partly (the noisy part) spoiled new generation of young adults who think they know it all but hardly know a fraction of anything while expecting everybody else to pay their way.

I mean, like, you know?