Dedicated to my Loves
01 May 2013
22 April 2013
Why You Fight for Others' Rights
Over
the past weekend, I wrote about how it was fundamentally critical to
us, as Americans, to ensure that we enshrine our rights. We must make
sure that these rights are there when they are difficult - for the
Marathon bomber, for the Westboro Baptist Church, for the Second
Amendment, for everyone we disagree with, etc.
We press for
these rights for others because while we talk and debate others losing
their rights, we boast and are sure that OUR rights will never be
threatened. We're Americans, and it'll never happen here.
Not ever.
It couldn't.
Could it?
Nah.
Or... could it?
Maybe just a tiny right, in the interest of a Greater Good, and who would really mind? "If you have nothing to hide..."
Innocent people dragged from their homes at the point of a gun,
frisked, escorted down the street, while they wait for their homes to be
searched without a warrant...
But, but... we had to find the
bomber! And, certainly, there IS a definite concern there. I'm one
who wants to find the guy who's blowing up people. BUT, don't we have a
way to do that? Judge issues warrants, authorizing police to only
search and seize just the person they're looking for? Maybe the police
have to ask first? Still, how intimidated do you feel when you open the
door and see a shotgun pointed at you? CAN you say no? What happens
if you do? And for all of you/us who say, "Ain't no one coming in my
house without a warrant!" ok... fine, and what happens when we show our
shotgun to the 20+ heavily armed, trigger-itchy cops outside?
So, with that in mind...
Here's why we, as Americans, must... MUST fight for the rights of each
and EVERY one of us, whether we like or agree with people or not:
21 April 2013
It's Not Easy...
Being
an American is difficult. We are constantly challenged by others to
demonstrate what we say we believe in, to 'walk the talk' as it were.
If a brutal crime occurs, we have to let the criminal justice system work its wonders, even sometimes when we watch someone go free.
We have to listen to the most hateful speech we can ever imagine - the KKK, Westboro Baptist Church, we have plenty of examples - and we not only listen to them, but we DEFEND their right to speak. Yes, their RIGHT to speak.
The Bill of Rights exists so that our rights aren't subject to the whims of politicians.
It's not easy.
It's incredibly difficult. It challenges our emotional responses. We WANT our visceral pleasure - to see the criminal viciously tortured, the hate group muzzled, and other scums of society that deserve not one bit of our love, our friendship, our charity, but every bit of our democratic support.
I am often surprised (not really) by how often I see people quote Martin Niemöller, yet then cry out for squashing the rights of those they deem unacceptable. Or fellow military members who've sworn oaths promising to protect and defend the Constitution, but then leave comments promising blood oaths of violence against the very people needing those Constitutional protections.
America and her Freedoms is not an easy idea; she is difficult and needs constant protection and vigilance. When we stop protecting those Freedoms, then the bright radiance of our shining city on a hill dims a little bit, until one day... we fade into the darkness.
If a brutal crime occurs, we have to let the criminal justice system work its wonders, even sometimes when we watch someone go free.
We have to listen to the most hateful speech we can ever imagine - the KKK, Westboro Baptist Church, we have plenty of examples - and we not only listen to them, but we DEFEND their right to speak. Yes, their RIGHT to speak.
The Bill of Rights exists so that our rights aren't subject to the whims of politicians.
It's not easy.
It's incredibly difficult. It challenges our emotional responses. We WANT our visceral pleasure - to see the criminal viciously tortured, the hate group muzzled, and other scums of society that deserve not one bit of our love, our friendship, our charity, but every bit of our democratic support.
I am often surprised (not really) by how often I see people quote Martin Niemöller, yet then cry out for squashing the rights of those they deem unacceptable. Or fellow military members who've sworn oaths promising to protect and defend the Constitution, but then leave comments promising blood oaths of violence against the very people needing those Constitutional protections.
America and her Freedoms is not an easy idea; she is difficult and needs constant protection and vigilance. When we stop protecting those Freedoms, then the bright radiance of our shining city on a hill dims a little bit, until one day... we fade into the darkness.
19 April 2013
RIP, Allan Arbus
RIP to Allan Arbus. An Army veteran from the 1940s, he is best known for his role as Dr. Sydney Friedman from M*A*S*H.
He died at the age of 95.
May you slide on the ice, sir...
He died at the age of 95.
May you slide on the ice, sir...
02 April 2013
A Few Feet...
I have walked miles. Hundreds of them. But now, I am walking a few feet in their shoes.
For the past six years, I have worn many labels. I am a cancer widow. I am a cancer research advocate. I am a supporter for all things to do with cancer awareness. I walk every year in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. I tell my wife's story. I tell our family's story. I never miss a beat.
But still, I never quite have that connection, do I? I've seen it in some eyes of survivors or current cancer warriors - the "But, do you really know what it's like?" look. I would wager that with the scars I carry, I do. But then, each of us in this horrific war is scarred and in so many individual ways, and each is no less traumatic than the next. It's not a competition to be won, after all.
Still.
About a month ago, that all changed. I started to feel a tenderness in my right breast. And then a slight pain behind my right nipple. Believe me, no one was more surprised than I. As much as I can quote the statistics and slogans about how breast cancer is not just a woman's disease and how men get it, too, and how one of my favorite pink ribbons is the one with blue tip... yes, I was not ready for this surprise.
And certainly, what guy is? So, a week later, as the pain intensified and steadily became more and more present, and the tiny knot became more of a definite lumpish feeling, I began to practice what I preached. There in the shower, I performed my first Breast Self Exam. I didn't like the results.
Luckily, I'd already had an appointment scheduled with my primary care physician. So, by the time I saw her, this new growth had been there about a month. It was always there, always painful. How could this be good?
And I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I wasn't beginning to think myself into a tizzy. Since I was such an advocate, was I making it come true? Was this some weird case of hypochondria? This was all in my head as I approached my doctor's appointment. That and... how do I, as a guy, bring this up? Since I work in the medical field, I decided to just be straight forward and professional.
For the past six years, I have worn many labels. I am a cancer widow. I am a cancer research advocate. I am a supporter for all things to do with cancer awareness. I walk every year in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. I tell my wife's story. I tell our family's story. I never miss a beat.
But still, I never quite have that connection, do I? I've seen it in some eyes of survivors or current cancer warriors - the "But, do you really know what it's like?" look. I would wager that with the scars I carry, I do. But then, each of us in this horrific war is scarred and in so many individual ways, and each is no less traumatic than the next. It's not a competition to be won, after all.
Still.
About a month ago, that all changed. I started to feel a tenderness in my right breast. And then a slight pain behind my right nipple. Believe me, no one was more surprised than I. As much as I can quote the statistics and slogans about how breast cancer is not just a woman's disease and how men get it, too, and how one of my favorite pink ribbons is the one with blue tip... yes, I was not ready for this surprise.
And certainly, what guy is? So, a week later, as the pain intensified and steadily became more and more present, and the tiny knot became more of a definite lumpish feeling, I began to practice what I preached. There in the shower, I performed my first Breast Self Exam. I didn't like the results.
Luckily, I'd already had an appointment scheduled with my primary care physician. So, by the time I saw her, this new growth had been there about a month. It was always there, always painful. How could this be good?
And I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I wasn't beginning to think myself into a tizzy. Since I was such an advocate, was I making it come true? Was this some weird case of hypochondria? This was all in my head as I approached my doctor's appointment. That and... how do I, as a guy, bring this up? Since I work in the medical field, I decided to just be straight forward and professional.
Uh-huh.
I felt so nervous and ridiculous. Fortunately, she put me at ease and
we discussed it. And then, I had an experience which may be normal for
you ladies, but for me was a whole new world - I laid back and had a
medical breast exam there in the doctor's office. You know the one, arm
behind your head while the doctor feels you all over? An eye opener
for me. "So this is what it's like," I thought.
Apparently,
it wasn't all in my head. The doctor agreed with what I found with the
BSE. She ordered a full round of tests. One of these would be truly a
journey behind the curtain. She ordered a mammogram for me.
I work in the radiology field. I have to admit - one of my first thoughts was... but I have so little to squish! I was so nervous when I called to get the appointment, even though it's with my own department. Would I be laughed at? I know there are occasionally men who have mammograms - I've preached this for years. But now, it's me, and I feel like the only one in the world. Just like every other woman who is suddenly facing this.
And now I have a very good idea of what
this is like. What it's like on the other side. I don't know what the
mammogram will show. Like thousands of women every day, I am hoping that this mass is benign, a cyst, a small clump, a non-cancerous whatever... anything BUT. Like thousands of women every day, I have told my closest friends what's going on, but few others. Like thousands of women every day, I wonder what the future holds.
I walk every year in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. But now, in the past month, I've walked a few feet in their shoes, and I've seen it all from the other side. And it's still true, I look forward to when we don't have to walk anymore.
03 February 2013
Return to The Cathedral
It's been too long since I've visited the Cathedral. Sure, it's actually only been about two months, yet it feels so much longer than that. I sit here in my pew, weary... My face turned upwards. I see another angel streaking across the sky. It's been too long. I should come to the Cathedral more often, and why don't I? I have no excuse not to. The Angels call to me... ...I should come more. For the Peace I feel is deep and transformative. With the Angel's wings, my weights are lifted. Before, I felt exhausted. Now, I feel exciting Joy. The Cathedral reaches into my very soul. It gives voice to my favorite verse from the Bible - the one that's truly leapt from the pages when I first read the book cover to cover many many years ago. Anyway, for someone who is so intricately connected to temporal landmarks, I'm not sure why the Cathedral felt so distant when I had visited so recently. Yet, no matter, for I am here and for however briefly, I am renewed. I come and pray more often.
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