There’s no room for weakness when you’re fighting for your life. And that’s exactly what I remember when I wake up at 10am, unable to soothe my grogginess with a Venti Mocha Latte. How could I participate or contribute to a company that hates black people and loves police brutality? The same is true for all of us in the #Resistance.
That latte would be nice, but not as nice as ending white supremacy. I try to remind myself that no sacrifice is too great when fighting against a man who is literally Hitler. Yet it turns out I have to sacrifice even more than Starbucks. More than Uber, Kanye’s Sunday Service and Coachella which I’ve also had to painfully let go of in the struggle against the forces of evil.
The week began with me losing my Bible, The New York Times. So imagine my horror when I found out the billionaire owner, Stephen Ross of Equinox and SoulCycle was hosting a fundraiser for Not My President Trump.
Et tu, Equinox?
As an executive member of Equinox, I now have to come to grips with my contributions to the oppression of vulnerable peoples. Knowing my laundry would be freshly washed and folded and my Tesla would be waiting for me after my three-hour workout session is great, but not when it is at the cost of human rights. Yes, I’ll miss those eucalyptus-scented steam rooms. I guess I could hang fresh eucalyptus from the Pacific Palisades farmer’s market in my Master Bath steam shower and console myself with the knowledge that I’ve made the world more tolerant. As I explained to my housekeeper Rosalina, it’s not enough to know you have privilege, you must become an ally. No matter the cost to yourself.
My Kiehl’s products have gone in the garbage, just for their association with Equinox. My skin is already privileged enough. I wanted an excuse to switch to Lumere, anyway.
I don’t want to give up my Angela Davis morning rides at SoulCycle, they’re a religious experience after all, one recognized by Oprah when she had her on Super Soul Sunday. I suppose I could take my Peloton to the Agape International Spiritual Center…
All I have left now is my membership to trainer-to-the-stars, Tracy Anderson, made famous by pre-Goop Gwyneth Paltrow – but if I find out Ivanka has set foot in one of her classes or even owns a single one of her DVDs, Tracy can kiss her $600-a-month membership fee goodbye. Spending $1,200-a-month on a personal trainer is a price I’m absolutely willing to pay. That’s how being a white ally works.
Private car services and personal chefs may be expensive, but it’s a small price to take a stand when people are suffering in concentration camps at the border. I’ve always supported reparations. And now I’m proving it.
Granted, all of this weighs heavily on me. Sometimes I am barely able to relax when my personal masseuse comes over to ease my tension. Other times I find myself anxiously leaving the house in the middle of the day because I can hardly handle the stress of our nation’s dilemma, much less listen to the nanny dealing with Logan’s temper tantrums.
One thing is clear: Equinazi was not the first. Nor will it be the last. You have to vote with your iPhone wallet. Which is why after finding out Twitter activist Seth MacFarlane had whored himself to the Führer by throwing a party for him called a ‘celebrity roast,’ I swore I would never watch The Simpsons again.
If I find out there is dirty Trump money associated with Nobu or Soho House, I swear to Gaia I will just move off-the-grid to my luxury yurt on the organic weed farm in which I’m a partial investor.
This has to stop. It’s up to us. I don’t want to reach the point where I have to kill my dog Fluffy, but if I find out a Trump supporter rescued an animal from the same shelter, I will.
Imagine where this could head. What’s next? Republicans in the movie industry? Not on my watch. It’s already to the point where I question turning on my TV. Home Alone 2 came on AMC and I immediately canceled my cable when I saw the Trump cameo. It’s a terrible thing to realize you were tricked by your own parents into watching a movie about white supremacy.
I think the only way to escape this hate-filled country before it finishes its evolution into Nazi Germany is to climb Machu Picchu or Kilimanjaro followed by a week in Bora Bora. None of which will be planned for or packed by myself.
Thank Gaia for Rosalina. She’s currently Googling if it’s eco-friendly to burn Lululemon athleisurewear. Freedom isn’t free, you know.