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An Easy Thanksgiving Dinner

Kay Simpson

I’ve been doing intermittent fasting and a low carb diet for a couple of months. Because Koda can’t eat turkey and that’s what I want on Thanksgiving and he eats sweet potatoes while I like my potatoes mashed. Because he wants steamed broccoli and I want corn. Because he eats cornbread and I eat rolls. Because he eats pecan pie and mine is pumpkin, I decided it wasn’t a good idea to cook two complete meals this year, since it was only he and I here to eat.

So, we went out to eat. We had a peaceful morning. No cooking, no cleaning. I had a relaxing bath instead. Then a short drive to a buffet. By this time it had been 19 hours and 48 minutes since I had eaten, according to the app that keeps track for me. When we arrived, the line only had 6 people. There were plenty of seats. Koda went in and put our things on a table, way out of the way of everything so that there was room for my walker and it would be peaceful. I sat on my walker seat in line. And found it was a slow-moving line.

Just as the line had moved up one person, a party of about 10 people started pushing their way in…and past all of us in line. One of the women bumped into me and said…we’re just going to meet our friends in the back room. But they then stopped at the front and each one paid separately. Sigh…

Well, we finally got through the check-in and I went straight to the turkey line. There was plenty of turkey, a ham and beef. EVERYONE in front of me took turkey and there was nothing put on my plate but the scrapings from the bottom. The slicer/server wouldn’t bring out another turkey because ‘there’s some left’. I didn’t even get one SLICE!

Ok, so, I go to get mashed potatoes. They’re empty. I sit on my walker and wait. As I wait, I decide to get a roll, since they were close to me. I turned and a man picked up the last two rolls. So I waited for a roll also. There was enough corn for a spoonful. When I went to get my piece of pumpkin pie, there was none. Are you beginning to get a theme here?

So I went to the table, tucked my walker in beside me and picked at the mess that was turkey. I got maybe 6 bites of actual turkey out of it. I buttered my roll and took a bite. There was WAY too much yeast and the bottom was just plain soggy. Ok, forget the roll. I ate 5 bites of corn and came to a black piece of something that had never been corn. Ok, enough corn.

But here’s where it gets bad. As I’m eating those things, the group from the back room came and got into the line for meat. But they didn’t get in it at the back. They started a new line right behind me. After a couple of minutes, the large group of ‘not special’ people that had been patiently waiting in line came around to ‘my’ side and got in line behind the ‘special’ people from the back room. But there was not room, so they curved down the wall, into the seating area, right beside me! Now I have the group in back and the group beside me. And you know there isn’t much space between tables or table and wall. They were actually standing so close that they looked like they were waiting on our table.

Of course, I tell them that I feel bad that they got moved to the back of the line. One nice lady responded and before I knew it, we were having dinner together. Well, I was eating and they were standing with empty plates, but it was a nice conversation, except for the part about the hair one woman found in her shrimp. You can probably guess that this line wasn’t going anywhere. It was because a new group of ‘Not Special’ (NS) people had started standing in the ‘real’ line again and they were being served first.

Well, I can’t see something wrong and not try to fix it. I had Koda get the manager and I told him that it wasn’t right for them to be put at the back of the line and that they should be able to stay where the original line was located and where it had always been. (There was ONE person serving 3 types of meat on THANKSGIVING!) At least let them stay in the real line and alternate between special and ‘NS’ people. He said they couldn’t move because it would block the kitchen. And then he just left!

But he did take the suggestion about alternating between lines and the line started moving again…SLOWLY. That was because there was another new line of people at the original site and they were being served first. The line did finally move past me and I felt better about eating without that audience. But then they moved those ‘NS’ people to ‘my’ side again. And there were more than before and one had a service dog.

Now I don’t have a problem with service dogs in restaurants, but I do have a problem with them next to me because I’m VERY allergic to dogs. I started coughing, my nose ran and my eyes watered. Then my asthma started acting up. I quit eating to take care of that. And the line wasn’t moving again. Yes, there was another new line in the original line spot and being served first. They weren’t even alternating again.

By this time, Koda couldn’t get out of his chair because they were standing behind him, waiting to get into the line that was along the wall by me and they were also still behind me. The poor women that bussed the tables couldn’t get through at all to the other kitchen door where they take dirty dishes. And there were more dirty dishes being removed than pans being filled on the other, original side.

The next group that was moved by me had another service dog, and when this lady saw what was happening, she asked someone to hold her place in line and moved away from me. A big thank you to her! But in the process of getting through the crowd around my table, the ‘NS’ people in line bumped and banged and jostled even more than had been happening prior to this. This time the plate that banged into my head also left food in my clean hair.

Did I neglect to mention that during this period, I had quit eating because there was not room for my arm to get to my mouth and who wants to entertain those standing around by letting them watch me eating? Also, Koda had no broccoli, pecan pie, rice, or chicken and there was only once piece of very fatty ham. He finally stood by the kitchen door to waylay someone so that he could get food. Then he had to fight his way back into his chair.

Now we had a line behind Koda, down the wall, and now a double line behind me waiting to wind their way behind Koda. Yes, in that narrow little space between chairs there were multiple people waiting for food.

I asked Koda to get the manager for the third time because the second time, no one came. I was still sitting there with my scrap turkey, corn with unidentified objects, soggy biscuit and now cold mashed potatoes. And no pie. I also neglected to mention that when my glass of milk came there was a line of old food around the middle of the cup…inside!

After 35 minutes of waiting, Koda found a piece of pumpkin pie with no whipped cream 😦 and the manager arrived. I explained that it wasn’t a lot of fun to be jostled, stared at, complained about, and dumped on, to say nothing of the quality of food. He asked what I wanted to happen. I said I thought that since I basically ate some mashed potatoes that I should be refunded the cost of my meal. Now I find that he’s only the assistant manager and he needs to get approval from the manager…who is in the kitchen COOKING! Be he did say that he would be me a ‘discounted’ rate.

The manager finally showed up and I explained the situation to HIM. He not only moved the line back, but Koda got his pie and the manager comped the whole meal for both Koda and I.

We’re going out to eat today since we saved money yesterday. I’m going to go somewhere that I can get turkey, mashed potatoes, corn, roll, and pumpkin pie with whipped cream, a clean glass of milk…and no crowds!

On the way home, Koda and I rewrote the words to The Night Before Christmas! We laughed at ourselves so hard that we cried. Did I mention that I lost one pound on Thanksgiving?

So, was that a good or a bad Thanksgiving?

When I’m an Old Lady I’ll…

Kay Simpson

When I am old I won’t wear purple

Nor a red hat because I don’t like red.

I shall spend my retirement on food for my child

And new clothes for his first day of school

And new shoes so that he can play basketball.

And I will say I’ve no money for junk food.

I shall sit down in my wheelchair

and head out to a protest

and carry signs that say no more guns

or no more cages.

I’ll go to school and volunteer my time,

And watch little ones learn to read

Or how to subtract,

Or help them start a science project.

I’ll help my son plant seeds in our garden

So that he can learn where our food comes from

And so that we have real food to eat

And so that we can be healthy.

I will try Keto and Vegan and then

I’ll eat the old way by cooking with cast iron

And that fresh food from our garden.

I’ll try to stay healthy to play with my son.

And to read to my grandchild

Then rock her until bed.


I’ll wear dresses I’ve made

And sandals like Jesus.

I’ll pay things with cash and

Teach kids how to save for later in life.

We’ll give food to the homeless

To teach them to care

And play monopoly for hours

When we have family here.

I won’t have to practice

For when I am old.

I’ve done this for ages

And love is my goal.

Growing Up in a Racist Community

Kay Simpson

Growing up in a racist community.
I grew up in a racist community. No, not everyone was racist, but a good majority were. I remember listening to them say that they’d shoot blacks …only they didn’t use that term… if they ever showed up on their street. That they didn’t want them around cause they didn’t want it to rub off on them. And isn’t that little ….baby… cute, but it’s a shame he’ll grow up. And that’s just a few of the things I heard. After I married, I planned to adopt, and when I announced that decision to everyone near, I kept hearing. Where are you going? And whispers that said..And make sure you know what you’re getting. Well, imagine their surprise when they found out he had arrived and he wasn’t ….gasp… white! Well, I knew what I was getting! 😉 And it didn’t take long, after several visits from ‘old friends’ who came empty handed, to answer the phone and say… he’s just maple color…. and hang up. I should have said to pass it on.

I’ve had lots more experiences since then, like the class reunion where only a couple of really close old classmates interacted with my kids, and of course, all the things that happen on a mostly daily basis for those with families like mine. I’ve had good experiences… mostly from the black community, who accepted us as we were. The worst from the religious right. And that’s speaking personally. My kids are the greatest kids around. They’ve traveled cross country to help me at the last minute…for extended periods on more than one occasion. They would do anything for me. And they’ve gone out of their way to help others, one even missing my mother’s funeral to help a woman and her three kids in a snowstorm instead. I don’t care if they all miss my funeral as long as they’re busy helping others at the time. And I’m REALLY tired of them being judged by the color of their skin and not by the content of their characters!

Good Old Days Elections

Kay Simpson

I was born in 1947.  The first election campaigning that I remember was when I was about 6 years old.  It was the early 1950’s.  Television came on after dinner.  There was a test pattern on the screen so that you could adjust your set so that it was more clear.  And maybe adjust your rabbits ears antennae that might have aluminum foil on the end or even more adjustment options.

The news came on first.  I think it lasted about 15 minutes.  There were commercials built into the programs.  There were a couple of those each evening.  But what I remember the best is seeing the candidates on tv.  If there was an interview for 90 seconds for someone running for an office, there were interviews of 90 seconds for everyone running for that office. There were public service announcements that were free.  Equal time for each candidate.  They had a minute to let you know what they were for.  No one bought ads.  If one made the news for something unrelated to politics, the others still got equal time.

Then there were the ‘freebies’.  I remember pencils with the candidates’ name on them.  If one spent a lot of money, there was a pen.  And there were always nail file advertising candidates. That’s what they spent their campaign money on.  There weren’t 3 ft sq signs every 30 feet that blocked the view of each intersection.  There weren’t wasted trees.  There were not signs for months prior to election and for weeks after waiting to be picked up. We got useful, tangible things in our hands that reminded us who was running.

Voting.  Tabulation.  That was different.  You voted on a paper ballot that was counted that night at the polling place where you voted.  They stayed until all votes were counted.  They were right there in front of you.  At least 3 people counted the votes that someone else read off the ballots.  The totals had to match.  If they didn’t match, they recounted them.  I know about this because my mother volunteered every election to work at the polls.  She was a Republican, stay at home mom  My father was a Democratic over the road trucker who was usually on the road at election time.  Neither one ever missed voting.  My mother in person at the polls, my father by absentee ballot.  He said he couldn’t miss because he had to cancel her vote.  😉

I’m Independent.   I’ve never missed voting in an election.  I read all that I can about the candidates and the issues.  I try to vote on what is good for the country and not what I personally believe is good for me.  For example, I’m totally against abortion.  I would never have one.  But others will have them, no matter what.  I can’t force my beliefs on others.  But I can give them the right to choose according to their own beliefs.  I can do that by voting intelligently.  Not with my heart.

I digress.  Back to the point I was trying to make.  Today we vote on machines that can be rigged, or not.  The votes can be counted on software that’s legitimate or that’s been rigged.  The ballots are moved from the polling places and lost or left behind, like one I found in our city hall the day after election day.  I called the recorder’s office and a radio station.  The results in our small town changed that next day.  Was that a coincidence?  We have recounts that have time limits on them.  How can that be?  And here is the thought that brought on this blog…..

Shouldn’t votes be counted until they are ALL counted, and not by a specific date?  Just a thought.  I’d like to vote on a paper ballot with a pen that I put in a ballot box that is counted at the polling place and recounted until the numbers all match.  I don’t think that’s too hard.  It’s been done for centuries, at least.

Stuck in Town

Kay Simpson

What do you do when you can’t get there from here?

I guess I should give you a little background information before I start in on this.  I’m a 70-year-old disabled woman with 8 ‘kids’.  I use the term kids loosely as 7 of them are grown.  Some REALLY grown.  (That means some are old and some are older….four in their 40’s and 3 in their 20’s.)  I have a 10-year-old still at home.  I’m really glad he hasn’t gone out on his own yet.  I’ve been disabled since September 1993 and in an electric wheelchair for about 10 years.

In 2009, the youngest 4 kids and I moved from Phoenix to a suburb.  Until July 1, 2018, I could call Valley Metro transportation or the local Dial-a-Ride and get a ride with my wheelchair to wherever we wanted to go.  We went to the zoo, the Science Center, the Children’s Museum, the movies, to kids’ play places and to my son’s school for parent/teacher conferences and to volunteer.

Since July 1, I have been able to go to just a Target or a place that could bring an electric cart to my car.   Or I can call our local Dial-a-Ride to get a ride with my wheelchair.  But that has major limits.

At the beginning of this school year, which is the first week of August here in the desert, I called Valley Metro to get a ride to his school to meet his teacher, find out about curriculum, and to take his medication and water to his teacher.  I was told they no longer service my town and that I needed to call Dial-a-Ride (DaR from here on).  So, I called DaR and was told they would have to get permission as my son’s school was in another town.  I waited, and waited, and finally, on the morning of the day I needed a ride, I got a call saying that my request for a ride had been denied.  They said it was because it was outside the town limits.

So….. I called the city where my son’s school is located and asked for a ride to his school from their DaR.  Well, it seems they only service residents of their town.  Even though my son was a ‘resident’ at their school, I couldn’t get a ride.

After calling every place that I could possible think of, this is what I discovered.  Our local DaR covers our town only and it is 12 square miles.  That doesn’t cover much.  I can go to a Goodwill,  a grocery store, a drugstore, a post office,  a Burger King, a Circle K, and not much more.  Oh, there’s a Wal-Mart, but I don’t shop there so that doesn’t count.

Oh, did I mention that they only run from Monday through Friday?  Or that it’s run by volunteers? Or that you call a week in advance and you might still not get a ride?  Or the best one yet…. it’s only 9 to 5.

The city sponsors programs in the local park about once a month.  They have them on Friday evening.  They start just after DaR stops.  So, we don’t get to the October Halloween celebration.  We didn’t get to go to the kid friendly event in September nor the one in August.

So where do I go from here?  I can’t take my son to the movie or Science Center, or anywhere fun for a child. So I called one of the city board members and told her my problem.  She organized a meeting with the city manager, the assistant city manager, a person that worked on getting grants, and other board members.

I left the meeting with the news that they could do nothing for me.  They suggested that I buy a carrier for my car so that I could put my wheelchair on it and go anywhere.  That left two problems.  First, others wouldn’t have the ability to go anywhere.  Second, I would have bought a carrier sooner if I had the money.

I have been raising a family on Social Security as a single parent.  I had only worked outside the home for about 7 years so that isn’t very much per month.

In November 2015, I had a major medical problem that kept me down for over a year.  At the end of that time, our car was totaled when someone disregarded the light and turned in front of us.  That left me in multiple hospitals, needing a fireman rescue from my home, and sending my 7-year-old son across country, alone on a plane, to stay with his brothers and go to school there.  There’s a lot more to that 3 year story, but I’ll leave it with…. there is no money for a carrier.  (I don’t even have a ramp at my door.  I use two boards stacked one on the other to bump up and down the little steps.)

Their solution to the problem they caused is for me to start a GoFundMe account for myself.  To ask for donations to buy a carrier.

My solution is this.  I plan to let everyone in my town know what happened to disabled people in this town.  And I will remind them that this is an election year.

So everyone remember that you need to vote to be able to change things for the better.