Purple State, USA

Going to Extremes.

Recently, as laws restricting and taxing smokers have gone into effect, I've heard a number of complaints related to this loss of "freedom." Most--in fact, hopefully all--of these laws were passed with majority support in their respective jurisdictions. Despite that, I've heard them used as evidence of the downfall of American democracy (a misunderstanding of democracy, IMO). 

So let's consider for a moment the slippery slope on which we all reside; How the founding fathers might have envisioned protecting "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" when, in fact, two citizens  have very different ideas of those things.

If you've been paying attention to the news lately, there has been a lot of talk about capitalism and socialism, and a lot of folks quick to try to label each of us. Interesting how we do this, isn't it? Republican or Democrat, a member of PETA or a 24/7 gun-toting member of the NRA, a tree hugger or a hater of polar bears, a Yankees fan or a Red Sox fan. In reality, these lines have limited useful applicability in our everyday lives (okay, with the exception of the Red Sox\Yankees). Rhetoric aside, most don't actually want to live in a truly black\white world. And for good reason.

A purely capitalist society, for instance, would tell those grumbling in the first paragraph--yes, you can smoke anywhere you want and without paying extra taxes for your addiction... but here is the piece of paper you have to sign saying that you will foot the potential million dollars in medical expenses if you get any type of cancer scientifically attributable to smoking. Furthermore, that when you can't afford that million dollars, you will be left to die. A true capitalist society says that, even if you show up in the ER with an infection or anything easily fixable with a prescription, if you can't afford that prescription you have to live with whatever consequence of that infection--including disability and death--until you can. Even if you are a hard-working student, an industrious entrepreneur, or a veteran of our armed forces. A 100% capitalist society has no program to help the starving children, rescue the abandoned babies or care for those children handed a negative plight by zero fault of their own. A capitalist society says that even if you are working hard at your job, even if you have been there 25 years, on time every day, that if you get hurt through your employer's negligence, you are on your own--no disability, no workers' comp.

Socialism? A purely socialist society would effectively strip us of all our civil liberties and leave us at the mercy of whoever had most recently seized power. Every child would be rescued, every vagrant have a home, but we wouldn't be able to offer them much hope. Those who would be productive, accountable members of society would be held at the same level as those who refuse to work, refuse to take ownership of their lives. Instead of only a certain percentage of the population being poor, most of us would be, as all the things we currently understand about what brings financial success and well-being are rules that would no longer apply. We could lay down our guns and destroy our nuclear weapons and know that it would only be in exchange for letting someone else point their guns at us, as a noble gesture has never carried much weight with those who don't play by the high moral principles we idealize. In trying to save everyone, we would save no one.

We can be thankful that the United States is neither of these. We are challenged because real life isn't black or white, Republican or Democrat, PETA or NRA. In real life, we--as Americans--and our ancestors before us, have accepted the very difficult task of trying to find that tricky middle ground. The one where people are free to learn and invent and achieve, but where compassion reaches out to those who might need help just for a moment. A health care system that saves those who can be saved, but that doesn't burden everyone else to the breaking point. A welfare system that can swoop in--on taxpayer mandate--to help the 10-day-old left at a hospital, to help set it on a productive life path, but without rewarding the addict mother. An energy infrastructure that supports our growing civilization without destroying the earth it is built upon.

Do we struggle? Of course we struggle. Do we sometimes make mistakes? There's no doubt we make mistakes. It is an awesome responsibility. But what a tremendous gift that we have these decisions to make and are free to make them. People talk about the death of freedom when things don't go the way they want, but our true freedom as a people is in the fact we can talk and act and argue, hopefully with an appropriate degree of respect for each other. Our true freedom is that we can win and lose and then get up tomorrow and do it all over again. Not everyday will be won and not everyday will be lost, but together--through the collection of those days--we are hopefully building something better for the next generation.

It is a slippery slope we have before us, and behind us--ours is not the first generation to grapple with difficult issues--, but the fact we continue to work our way along it, without caving to either extreme, always trying to measure--even to the point of exhaustion--what that right balance of compassion and prudence might be... that's what sets this country apart from so many others.

If you're wondering, I did speak up and share my views with the people having the smoking discussion. I don't know that I changed minds, but I know that we all walked away with something to think about, myself included. That is the primary reason I know their claims about America's decline have yet to materialize... because we are able to have those discussions, even though they aren't always easy, convenient or fun. For my part, in the 30-60 seconds before I waded into their heated conversation my introverted self was already trying to get the extrovert I knew was about to say something to shut up. But the extrovert was right to speak.

We are supposed to talk. We are supposed to listen. We don't have to always agree.

What are some of the discussions going on in your lives?

Angry People Piss Me Off.

A friend I haven't spoken with in awhile reminded me today of a confrontation I had with the restaurant owner of a Mexican dive in our area ("dive" being my very biased opinion based primarily on the story I am about to share). My co-workers and I would often go there and we almost always left with one quirky story or another... food ordered but only partially delivered... the day we and the rest of the restaurant sat hungrily--gradually realizing that no food was coming out of the kitchen--until 30 minutes later when food began reappearing with no explanation for the delay... things like that. Most of us were relatively laid back people, so these stories mostly turned into entertaining debacles rather than anything any of us would consider worth the extra energy true agitation or anger would have required.

Then one day we were all there for some significant gathering--a going away or a birthday or something to that effect. We were all paying separately (it was a cheap company) and the waitress was aggravated by that fact given the size of our group. I gave her my card to pay for my food and someone else's. When she came back, she informed me that she'd forgotten to add something so the total on the bill was about $10 more and she had already run the card for the new amount. Which was really fine. Really it was. It did strike me as odd, however, that she didn't say something before doing that, so I mentioned to her that I would have preferred to be notified of the error before she ran my card for an amount different than the one I had reviewed and accepted when I handed it to her.

I saw this as a helpful suggestion. She, apparently, saw it as an affront to some core moral principle that I have yet to guess the origin of. Accordingly, she snapped something back at me. Surprised by the unexpected confrontation, I found myself propelled down the path of trying to explain to her that I wasn't upset but that it simply seemed like the prudent thing to do. She was stuck on the fact I had to pay regardless of what the amount was and I wouldn't, in fact, have used a different method of payment. I was stuck on the fact she couldn't have known that without asking me.

I really hate miscommunications. There is just some fundamental part of me that rejects the idea we aren't all capable of interacting on a reasonably civil and intelligent level (and, in all fairness, this part of me is often disappointed). So after she walked away I concluded that maybe I had unintentionally come off wrong in my initial response, sending us reeling down this road of the stressful and absurd. So I, the customer, walked over to her--away from the eyes of my co-workers and everyone else--and told her I hoped I hadn't come off wrong, that I had just been trying to provide a helpful suggestion in the event someone else would need to know about that extra $10 before having their card charged.

Let's just say that didn't work either. At that point, my good nature was at its limit and I asked to speak to a manager. She told me smugly that she was the owner. Which. I'm not sure what she hoped that proved, because even Castro and Hitler run\ran countries... being in power doesn't necessarily make a person any less of an ignorant dope, as most companies in America can readily attest to. Her revelation, however, did effectively end any hope of clearing up the situation, so we left. I have never been back.

For the record, I believe I was right, though mostly because she couldn't offer me a view to counter my own. The more rationally and calmly I tried to explain my perspective, the angrier she became.

My being right doesn't matter, of course, because being right in our society often doesn't mean anything except we are supposed to feel apologetic to anyone who might feel bad for being wrong. Maybe she was having a bad day, maybe she was just overwhelmed... yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm that person with that voice in my head too. I can empathize and I have no doubt pooed on someone else's rainbow in the midst of my own bad days.

That said. Consider the conversations we are trying to have as a country. Consider how many of us are angry and yelling and it doesn't matter what anyone says, we can't stop. We can't listen. We can't risk granting even one concession, lest it all snowball into something terrible. The most terrifying thing about the health care debate isn't what a tremendous decision it is for ourselves and our children, but the fact we can't even calm down long enough to discuss it rationally.

What does it say about us as a country that we're often too busy to slow down, set aside our preconceived notions for a moment and just really listen to each other? What hope do our children have of learning to be better people if we can't even set a decent example of how to do that?

We Remember.

I remember it was the morning of my 22nd birthday when goofy Brett--my fellow software developer at the engineering company we worked at--popped over the cubicle wall to tell me a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I was dismissive at the time, thinking it was some stupid private pilot of a small Cessna. It wasn't ten minutes later, though, that I was walking back from the CIO's office and I saw a bunch of people gathered around the only TV on the floor. As I glanced over simply out of habit, I was brought to a halt by the image of two burning buildings. And the sound of someone saying, "And they say the Pentagon was hit too."

Understand that by the time I was 22, I had benefited greatly from the protection and the opportunities being an American citizen had given me. I was proud to be an American. But, looking back, I was also awfully naive. More naive than I knew before the moment those images burned themselves into my mind.

It wasn't long after the buildings fell that the company said we could all leave early, go be with our families, sit and cry, do whatever we needed to do to cope.

I walked out alone, having had little emotional reaction up to that point. As I crossed in front of the building, headed toward the parking lot, I looked up and noticed that someone had already moved the flag to half-staff. And that's when I cried. Because before that moment, as much as I thought I had loved that flag and honored that flag, I--at 22--had no real life knowledge of what that flag really stood for. And I was only beginning to realize the challenges that lay ahead.

On this morning, we can count the lives lost in those fiery explosions, we can look thankfully at our civil servants who sacrificed themselves, we can reflect proudly on the heroics of the doomed citizens on Flight 93, and we should remember that our military has carried the cross of that day for the past eight years... I hate that it happened. It can bring a tear to my eye, even on this day, so far from that initial moment. But I am also grateful to have received the wake-up call. I hope that we can remember not just the tragedy but the blessings on this day as well. We learned we had weaknesses, but we also realized we were stronger than most of us may have realized prior to that moment.

This thing called America is so much deeper than any building anyone who hates us can blow up or tear down. And it has come so much farther than even our forefathers would have imagined. We have so very much to be proud of and thankful for.

I only heard this song in the past year, but it's a great reflection. It's called Where Were You, by Alan Jackson. Read it and tell us how your life was (or wasn't) altered on Sept 11, 2001.

"Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day?
Out in the yard with your wife and children;
Working on some stage in LA?
Did you stand there in shock at the site of
That black smoke rising against that blue sky?
Did you shout out in anger;
In fear for your neighbor;
Or did you just sit down and cry?

Did you weep for the children
Who lost their dear loved ones
And pray for the ones who don't know?
Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble
And sob for the ones left below?

Did you burst out in pride
For the red white and blue;
The heroes who died just doing what they do?
Did you look up to heaven for some kind of answer
And look at yourself to what really matters?

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day?
Teaching a class full of innocent children?
Driving down some cold interstate?
Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor;
In a crowded room did you feel alone?
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her?
Did you dust off that bible at home?
Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened;
Close your eyes and not go to sleep?
Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages;
Speak with some stranger on the street?
Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow;
Go out and buy you a gun?
Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching
And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns?
Did you go to a church and hold hands with some stranger;
Stand in line and give your own blood?
Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family;
Thank God you had somebody to love?

I'm just a singer of simple songs,
I'm not a real political man.
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran.
But I know Jesus and I talk to God,
And I remember this from when I was young--
Faith, hope, and love are some good things He gave us,
And the greatest is love."

Lord Have Mercy On My Next 30 Years.

It was suggested that in honor of my twin brother's 30th birthday this coming Friday that I dedicate this week's post to that subject. Instead, I think I'll talk about myself for a minute, though so significant a milestone is still far away for me. Ha. ;-)

I am fairly certain there was a time when thirty sounded ancient. However, having almost made it there, I'm thinking the other side isn't so bad. All across the board, things are as good now as they have ever been. Rather than sadden me my reflections have instead reminded me that I have been fortunate through the years to be surrounded by the best in so many areas--intellectually, physically, emotionally. I can see how these people have shaped the person I am and continue to become.

If you'll indulge me, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge them...

There was Ryan Popp who gave me an incredible little boy that I feel blessed, stunned and a little terrified that life saw fit to entrust, in part, to me; There was Jim Surber, in my early-20's, who challenged me to learn to communicate in ways not so aggressive as those I witnessed as a child; There was Cindy Wright who showed me unconditional--truly unconditional--love; There was Mike Cartwright--who, at 15, when I proclaimed that I "would be somebody someday"--informed me quite simply that I already was somebody;

There was Andy Lalumia who taught me that sometimes the future we think we want isn't nearly as good as the one that is in store; There is Christine Davis who has taught me that friendship involves a whole lot of patience and just a bit of blindness to the flaws we all have (as she has done for me more than once!); There is John Miller who taught me that the most unexpected people can save you even when you don't realize you're drowning; There was Gary Gummig who taught me that complete strangers can change your life for the better;

Richard Ross who taught me that life will give you someone\something to make you laugh even when a moment before you didn't believe you would ever stop crying; Sonja Gautama who reminded me that discounting a single decision as a regret often times disregards all the good that did happen as a result of an action that--at first (and even last) glance--might appear to be a failure; There is Rob North who reminded me that everyone has something we can relate to, if we will just take a moment to truly listen; 

Lisa Buckner for walking through the valleys with me; Mr (Greg) Butler who fought for me when I wasn't yet fighting for myself, for starting a chain of events that eventually gave me the strength to build a safe place for myself; Ms (Terry) Sollazzo whose advice I have never forgotten... to write truthfully and, at the same time, from my heart; Mr (Michael) Brooks for telling me "Things don't have to fall apart, the center will hold"; Officer Pope for sparing $5 for a hungry kid; Sterling (unknown) for giving me a chance when I had no experience on my resume to back up my claim of being able to do the job I knew (and have since proven) I could do;

Bryant--My incredibly intelligent, articulate son... for making being a mom cool; Jovi--Baby girl, I hope we can soon welcome you to our family officially... regardless, for blessing the path we have thus far been fortunate to share.

There are more. Some whose names I know and many more whose names I don't. Of all the material things I have gained and lost and gained again in the past thirty years, of all the different roads I have taken and the achievements most of society would judge me by... When I look back, it's the people who have shared the journey with me that I see.

I am human. I have bad days. I make mistakes. Sometimes I get angry when I shouldn't or frustrated when I wish I wouldn't... But in those rare moments when my own strength isn't enough, I call on my memories of these people and I find my strength there; knowing that many of them have believed in me and seen me through worse.

I don't have the religious faith of many, but I have been blessed and I am truly grateful for every step of this journey so far. I have been fortunate to have cried and screamed and loved and learned and lost and laughed so hard I could barely breathe. Just as importantly, I am very much looking forward to doing more of the same in whatever time I have remaining! As my more distinguished colleagues often say... Bring it on! ;-)

I Do. Or Do I?

In the interest of full disclosure, I will start by telling you that I am not a fan of even the traditional definition of marriage. Individuals smarter than me could no doubt analyze the experiences that have defined me and come up with a handful of explanations for why that might be. What I know is that it just stopped making sense to me somewhere around the time I started questioning the intelligence of a lot of things I had once accepted with implicit faith.

That said, I also don't begrudge any individual who does find this a sensible and necessary way to express their love and commitment to another person who is also of consenting age. Perhaps it is once again due to my own life experiences, but the caveat here is that I do mean any adult--regardless of age, race, gender, physical mutations, etc--being able to make that commitment to any other adult--regardless of their own age, race, gender or physical mutations.

We explored one aspect of the First Amendment in our last Civil Liberties post, but let's focus on a specific sentence with this blog--"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof;"

The preceding sentence is what mandates that our government exercise separation of church and state. It doesn't just mean that no law can be made about what religion a person must be, but that no legislation can be enacted that makes a religious principle law. No law saying that we must all go to church on Christmas, that all women must wear a hijab or that every insect be left in peace out of the Buddhists' respect for all living things. Which means that--while I am not anymore inclined to marry someone from my own gender than I am to marry someone from the opposite--our constitution says that my own preferences in this area should be moot when it comes to making laws my peers and I must abide by.

Marriage is a religious institution, let's be clear. If it was anything different, it would be the same regardless of country or religion or century. It is not. Our government recognizes marriage in a legal sense in order to determine how to apply taxes, manage spouses' legal rights and protections, and because it will be called upon to divide assets and determine child custody when any union falls apart (as they often seem to).

That said, let's take sexual preference out of it for a minute (the sticking point for many who oppose anything but traditional marriage) and throw a hypothetical situation out for consideration...

Let's say my (female) best friend and I were both happily married since our late-twenties to two wonderful men, who were also very good friends with each other. In our mid-forties, on the way back from a guys' weekend skiing or golfing or whatever, our husbands are both tragically killed in an accident. Between the two of us, we are left with four children, two mortgages and a lot of uncertainty about our futures. My parents have already passed away and hers aren't in any condition to take care of themselves, much less help her or make decisions on her behalf if something happens to her. We have siblings, but our siblings aren't involved in our day-to-day lives because they have their own families and their own concerns.

All we have is each other. My house has room for all of us and I can continue to pay the mortgage; she has health insurance, where mine was through my husband. If something happens to me and I can't communicate my wishes, she is now the first person I would want the hospital to consult about what my wishes would be; and vice versa. In the event either of us finds a fate similar to our husbands, we would want the other to have custody of our children and access to any of our financial assets in order to ease any burden related to that, without any challenge or hassle. Maybe that will change one day, but for now we are more concerned with protecting ourselves and being able to finish raising our teenage children than we are with dating, finding new husbands or trying to start new lives.

On a purely legal level, that's what marriage is and that's what my best friend and I should be able to do if we decide--as rational adults--that it's a commitment we want to make to each other. The law concerns itself with committing to another person not on a spiritual level, but in all the tangible ways that it can influence--specifically when it comes to medical or financial decisions. Protecting the legal rights inherent to sharing a life with another human being is why it treaded into the murky gray area of not-completely-separate-church-and-state to begin with.

I may not believe in marriage for myself, but even if I did I still would be hard-pressed to find issue with any responsible consenting adult--for whatever reason they might have, which (IMO) isn't any of my business anyway--making a commitment to another consenting adult or group of consenting adults. If all these people want is to live prolific lives where they are able to be focused stewards of themselves and their children, then why should I or the American government take issue with that? As we watch so many traditional marriages dissolving into the hate-filled opposite of that, does anyone touting traditional marriage as "the right way to have a family" really have any imaginary moral authority left to stand on?

Many states--my own included, I am disappointed to say--have amended their constitutions "in hindsight" to define marriage as being between a man and a woman. These changes are illegal. Amendments or laws of that nature are in direct violation of the First Amendment, because the definition of a man and a woman is something being driven by a religious propaganda machine that our government is supposed to remain impervious to. 

I believe this goes back to the previous civil liberties post where we, as Americans, sometimes fall into the trap of making laws against things we don't personally agree with or understand--without consideration of what our constitution does or doesn't permit us the power to do (and for what good reasons that might be). On a purely legal level, can you find basis for any law that defines marriage as solely between a man and a woman?