I would say I’m fairly patriotic. Yeah, me, the liberal independent, raised by Republicans, nine years in the Girl Scouts, I cry when I sing America the Beautiful (oh don’t give me that look, I cry when I pray, I cry when I think about the love my husband’s parents had, I cry at Hallmark commercials) and I firmly believe that everyone should read the Constitution so they really know what the fuck isn’t in it and quit saying it is.
Of late, okay it’s been going on for a while, I’ve been frustrated at the state of my country. When the terrorist attacked on September 11th ten years ago I was saddened that extremist hated my country so much they would murder innocent people just to make a statement. I love my country. But what saddened me even more was that we let those terrorist win. Our world stopped turning for weeks, months, for some people even years. Yes, it’s logical that we changed the way we live and do business, but did we allow ourselves to change for the good? I don’t think so.
I don’t get that. I don’t understand why we are wasting the lives of America’s youth on wars where we aren’t wanted in the first place. In wars that have no impact on the existence of our country; In wars that will have no positive lasting impact on the lives that are being disrupted in far away foreign places; did I mention I’m for the most part anti war? Yeah. I’m a Quaker pacifist get over it.
This is a great country, though sadly we have been winding our way down a sad path for years, getting too big for our britches, thinking we are king of the hill, when really we aren’t taking care of ourselves. We have become a nation of bigger is better, my riches are not enough I want yours too, it’s my way or the highway, finish first or be a loser for ever and it’s always greener on the other side. May I please remind my nation that nice guys finish last, bigger throws off feng shui (think about it), rich people just have more expensive headaches and bigger bills, diversity makes the world turn round, and to quote Erma Bombeck the grass is always greener over the septic tank. I love America and Americans can be extremely nice people, I mean I like myself, I like most of my friends one hundred percent of the time. I come from a community that raised over $70 thousand dollars in two weeks to send a woman dying of cancer to a clinic for a laser knife treatments, that came just weeks after raising $30 thousand to outfit the home of a teen who was injured in an ATV accident and is now paralyzed, and weeks before that raised thousands of dollars for something else (honest I can’t remember what.) I come from a giving community of people, they are nice people, and they are all Americans. But most Americans are striving to be the Jones (personally I don’t want to have the newest thing on the block.)
Instead of a country that honors diversity, we are seemingly hell bend on pointing out everyone’s differences. Just tonight on Bill Mahar I heard about (oh you’ll love this, I started writing this blog over three weeks ago) a DHS (Department of Homeland Security) program called “If You See Something, Say Something.” It reminds me of Nazi Germany and if I look hard enough several other regimes. But really I just don’t take what I heard on TV to heart so I Googled it. Crap, where have I been for the last eight years? This is a bill that was passed in 2002 (Ah the Bush years, will we every leave the madness behind?) The current Homeland Security Act (HB 963) is now printed to go before the whole house and is an update of the original 2002 document. If passed a person reporting “suspicious activity” will be give immunity from civil prosecution. Doesn’t that take away the accused’s right to face their accuser? Like I said, I love America, but I do not like the direction America is taking.
Cele
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Talk Thursday: Harried
My life is not my own. Point in argument, I have three blogs in various stages of begun and undone. It is sad, reasonable given the current state of my life, but sad. You’ve not seen the pictures of Miseray’s wedding, our trip to the Rogue River with Burp, our new son in law’s first finish at a triathlon, nor pictures of any posies or projects I may have taken - because right now life is harried.
Our vacation, replete with a wedding, trip to the Rogue River, and cake, delicious cake (hey, I’ve been on a diet, I’d do anything – almost – for cake) kicked my ass and I physically crashed. A week later it was one radio promotion after another – prep football, college football (GO DUCKS!) community festivals, programming, programming, and more programming. Then Ducky had surgery.
I know in radio when someone says, “It’ll be a piece of cake? (and, yes, I get pissed when no cake is involved) I should expect all hell is about to break loose. Ducky had surgery, three discectomi and some spinal stenosis rotor rootered, on September 7th. Rarely in my life is something a piece of cake. The surgery went fine, then Ducky woke up with a few complications. We’ve been reassured that he will be recover, but he is frustrated, incapacitated, in major pain (I mean crap it was a major surgery) and he’s bored. You know what they say about men being patient? My Ducky is more like the two vultures waiting for their next meal – “Patience, hell I’m gonna kill me something.” Yeah, two weeks into this, he’s at that point. I think it comes down to this – he thought it was a “snap your fingers” miracle cure. You know like when you take a pill and you don’t smoke any more? Yep – finally after saying he was going to quit, being stuck at home with no way to get to the store has handed him the perfect opportunity to quit. In truth while I noticed he wasn’t smoking, I barely noticed – what with the pain, pills, and incapacitation.
There has been work, there has been doctor’s appointments, there has been work, phone calls, work, insurance people, work, doctors, work, work, and pain pills. Yes, my life is harried, but it’s not terminal and I’ll survive. Now the question is will those around me survive?
Sith,
Cele
Our vacation, replete with a wedding, trip to the Rogue River, and cake, delicious cake (hey, I’ve been on a diet, I’d do anything – almost – for cake) kicked my ass and I physically crashed. A week later it was one radio promotion after another – prep football, college football (GO DUCKS!) community festivals, programming, programming, and more programming. Then Ducky had surgery.
I know in radio when someone says, “It’ll be a piece of cake? (and, yes, I get pissed when no cake is involved) I should expect all hell is about to break loose. Ducky had surgery, three discectomi and some spinal stenosis rotor rootered, on September 7th. Rarely in my life is something a piece of cake. The surgery went fine, then Ducky woke up with a few complications. We’ve been reassured that he will be recover, but he is frustrated, incapacitated, in major pain (I mean crap it was a major surgery) and he’s bored. You know what they say about men being patient? My Ducky is more like the two vultures waiting for their next meal – “Patience, hell I’m gonna kill me something.” Yeah, two weeks into this, he’s at that point. I think it comes down to this – he thought it was a “snap your fingers” miracle cure. You know like when you take a pill and you don’t smoke any more? Yep – finally after saying he was going to quit, being stuck at home with no way to get to the store has handed him the perfect opportunity to quit. In truth while I noticed he wasn’t smoking, I barely noticed – what with the pain, pills, and incapacitation.
There has been work, there has been doctor’s appointments, there has been work, phone calls, work, insurance people, work, doctors, work, work, and pain pills. Yes, my life is harried, but it’s not terminal and I’ll survive. Now the question is will those around me survive?
Sith,
Cele
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