Alright.  I can’t handle it anymore.  I’m not supposed to talk about politics.  I made a promise to myself when I started these columns 5 years ago, to keep it about my life.  You know, mom stuff.  Daughter stuff.  Nebraska girl stuff.  Those columns make it hard for anyone to pass judgment on the writer and, honestly, eliminates the nasty e-mails from angry readers. 

No one likes nasty e-mail.  Unless you’re the sender.  Then, for some strange reason, you enjoy making others feel terrible about themselves.  I’ll never understand those people.

Those people.  That’s who I’m talking about today.  You know them.  Everyone knows them.  They are the ones who seem to live life by making others miserable.  They enjoy being angry and saying hurtful things and passing judgement on strangers.

I don’t get it.

No, really.  I don’t get it.  Will someone explain this to me?  What is happening in this world?  Here’s where the personal opinion comes in.  I don’t care who you vote for.  I don’t care if you’re on the right, left or smack dab in the middle.  I think it’s fabulous that we get the right to share our opinions and vote and stand up for our beliefs. 

But when did that freedom become abused?  When did free speech turn into some kind of rally to start fights and blatantly disrespect one another? 

We were watching a national television station a week ago.  The anchors were talking about politics, because, of course they were.  I can’t blame them.  I know this election season is ratings gold for the media.  I have a media past.  I get it.  I would do the same thing.   But I read a scroll across the screen last week that made me shake my head.  And gasp a bit.  And snap a photo of it.  Because, frankly, I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing.

The scroll read, “Trump defends size of his penis.”


I know how the conversation began.  Big hands, blah, blah.  I don’t care.  That’s disgusting on all sides of the argument.  Is there any class left in this society? 

I can promise you this.  My father didn’t get drafted to Vietnam, just to defend a dude who talks about the size of his penis on national television.

Ew, again.

My father served this country to protect our freedom.  He risked his life for the men and women of this grand land to protect kindness and honor and human decency.

Is it gone?  Are we losing all hope?  I don’t think so.

I watched a sweet 8-year-old hold open the door for me last week.  I witnessed a kind woman come up to me in our public library, just to say thanks for writing.  I was greeted with a smile at the grocery store and a thank you, ma’am for shopping with us – as I left.  A farmer gave me the one finger wave on an open country road yesterday and I even let a car go in front of me during bumper to bumper traffic. 

Kindness.  It’s still there, folks.  It’s everywhere.  Don’t get sucked into the negative energy that is all around.  Stand up for your beliefs, yes.  But do it with kindness.  Smile a little.  Respect others even if they aren’t voting for the same person as you.  Be nice.  And please, please, never talk about the size of your anatomy.  Ever.  Like, never.  No one cares what God gave you in that department.  But they do care if you’re kind. 

And please don’t send me an angry e-mail because I mentioned the word penis.  I’m not running for president – although I may write my name in on the ballot.  

Leslie Means

Leslie is the founder and owner of Her View From She is also a former news anchor, published children’s book author, weekly columnist, and has several published short stories as well. She is married to a very patient man. Together they have three fantastic kids.  When she’s not sharing too much personal information online and in the newspaper – you’ll find Leslie somewhere in Nebraska hanging out with family and friends. There’s also a 75% chance at any given time, you’ll spot her in the aisles at Target.