RUTHFULLY YOURS

My Uber driver broke down on the way to the airport on the short trip from Downtown Dallas to Fort Worth International.

Not mechanically, you understand. Her car was just fine.

She broke down emotionally, crying and then sobbing as we traveled together to make my flight to D.C. I left her with every last bit of weariness, frustration and sadness spent out in her car.

I think it was the relief of one decent fare in her day that triggered it all. A $32 dollar ride, that’s all it took. $32 dollars — not much, enough to puncture through the act of holding it all together when things seem too hard to bear. She tells me she cannot take much more of this, or the empty hours of nothingness or $5 for a two block ride with no thank yous and no smiles.

Like the thousands of others, she is not an Uber driver by profession. She is an IT worker, qualified and hard-working, but like so many other Americans, finding herself suddenly unemployed. She has twins at home and rent to pay. After the first stimulus check she has not seen another and doesn’t know if another will come.

She asks me why the politicians don’t seem to care.

I think of Nancy Pelosi sitting on those funds for political gain, and don’t feel like I can open my mouth to answer. This lady is more honest than any politician and she is right, it is OK for the millionaires of Washington, D.C.

The truth of this lockdown is that it is bearable for many people; those with fully paid-up homes, investments with brokers, and savings their family can depend on too.

I see them on my morning jog to the park in Preston Hollow here in Dallas, striding out of their multi-million dollar homes in the sunshine in their yoga pants and perfectly balanced boobs, accessorized with a Corgi or a husband.

“Good morning” they say positively as I pass (something that doesn’t happen in my country but a truth of this one). And it is another good morning here on millionaires row. Every morning is. And I am happy for it too.

I take a video of their palatial homes in one street to show my children. If Disney built homes, they would look like this. I see one magic castle after another, all different yet similarly perfect, with manicured lawns and Mexican gardeners bustling about to keep it just so.

It’s the yard signs that take a bat to your face.

Rich democrats are competing for who can have the most, or the largest or the most obnoxious. This one wins for me, draping Biden and Harris all across this multi-million dollar home.

I wonder about these people with their Black Lives Matter signs, positioned neatly behind small shrubs so they don’t have to be seen by the homeowner from inside, but pressed up against the sidewalk so others may know those inside the castle are righteous in their splendor.

I suspect just like the housewives in suburban Minnesota, they think these signs will protect them when this country descends into unholy chaos after the election is called. They think the mob will treat their turreted fortress more kindly if they say they support black lives.

They are mistaken.

I wonder when they last held a black man’s hand, or took a black friend for dinner. I wonder if a black family is part of their daily life. I don’t see any here, not on the jog to the park, or at the tennis lesson these cookie-cutter women attend.

And I am not criticizing anyone’s decision to live amongst their own. I make that choice in my country too. I yearn for a place for my children away from the lies of multiculturalism. Here, wealth associates with wealth and money buys the privilege of exclusivity.

It is the hypocrisy that stinks; why pretend to support Black Lives Matter when you know nothing about those lives? Nor care to?

How can you push in those yard signs knowing the last time you interacted with a black woman was as the hired help for Thanksgiving?

These rich Democrats do not know black lives at all. Arguably, nor do I, but I am NOT trying to ally myself with a cause that is not my own.

If these rich leftists truly side with Back Lives Matter, then they also side with Defund the Police —the policy agenda of this mob. The BLM movement wants to make police the enemy, make police the problem instead of the criminals they are good enough to go and catch.

Right alongside these yard signs are others warning that ‘Armed Security Patrols’ are in operation here. Another sign shows video surveillance in operation. And a neighborhood watch patrols the place.

Security for me, but not for thee? Outwardly shouting about defunding the police, inwardly calling their concierge to organize private patrols and more cameras.

It’s the same the world over. Leftists in their splendid isolation — living lives utterly protected from the impact of the nonsense they foist on the little people. Just as in Dallas, it is true in London too, where the moneyed elites applaud immigration and Muslim superiority, whilst indulging their own in private schooling, private health and private security,

I applaud everyone who has made money and kept it. I love the sheer scale of wealth accumulated here. But I loathe the duplicity of those who think they are somehow part of the Left. Or embrace its ways.

I remember a quieter time than this. When we were told you don’t discuss religion or politics in polite company. My own father would never disclose to my mother how he voted — considering it a private matter between himself and the state.

How noisy we have become.

When did the private expression of free will become these screaming yard signs physically placed into the public square? These signs don’t just have the candidate’s name but an entire statement on ‘what this house believes’.

This massive move made in just one generation. It does not give me confidence for the next.

I get out of my Uber and hug my driver. I remind her that she is not on her own, and that even by being in her car today she is doing something. And doing something is half the battle.

She doesn’t see a way through this. She tells me her twins are the only reason she is still here, because guilt would not let her find another — more final — way out. I wish black lives mattered for this lady.

I wish for a black movement wanting to make good lives better. I wish BLM would stop trying to be a stick to beat white people with, and instead try to shine a light to make black lives better for this lady and her kids.

The owners of those mansions deserve their fate. They support the thing that wants to hurt them, the policies of the radical Left, the terrorism of BLM, the mob.

But this lady does not. She deserves an America where she can work hard to feed her family and afford her home.

America needs to unite behind Trump and his promise to rebuild the economy to deliver exactly that.