Headache…pound, throb, hurt, can’t stand the noise, can’t stand the light, can’t stand my head. Aspirin doesn’t touch it. Sometimes analgesics work. Thump, Thump, Thump. I can’t get away from it. Put cold on it. That helps, but it’s still there. The caffeine is starting to work. It doesn’t hurt as much, but the pressure…yes the pressure is still there. I have relief, I still have a headache. Don’t feel like moving. Feel depressed in fact. Don’t want to think. I can’t think really. Want to sleep, but I’m not tired, thanks to the caffeine. I want to disappear, but I can’t, I have a headache. Every noise is so irritating. I don’t want to move. I don’t want this headache. It goes on for three days. Sometimes the pain is so unbearable I want to evaporate. Then it eases, but it still throbs. My eyes hurt. My skin hurts. My stomach is sick. I want to scream but that hurts. I sneeze and my head feels like it will blow apart. I wish it would and get it over with. I’m depressed. Nobody cares. No one should. I am not a winner like I grew up believing. I have talents no one wants. Please don’t let the phone ring, I’d have to move. I want to dissolve into nothing. I can’t kill myself; it would take too much effort. I’m a coward anyway. No one matters to me. Oh, my head. I’m a loser. I can’t win. I never win. I’m not worth the space I take up. I want to get out of that space, because it hurts. Not just my head hurts, I hurt everywhere. It’s not emotional. It is physical. I hurt everywhere but nowhere. Ice packs wouldn’t help. I’m hungry. I don’t care. Moving, well I know moving would help, but it hurts to move. I can’t see really. I’m too much inside myself. My head, my spirit is in there somewhere, but where? Looking deep for the spirit, maybe there’s some relief there. It hurts to pray. It hurts to think. Don’t think. All I can think of is I don’t like where I am. I can’t move. I can’t comprehend what I see and hear. It’s a black hole I am in and I can’t get out. I should get up and take the pill. I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I’m such a slug.
The headache it is gone, the pressure and pain are gone. I feel better. I still hurt. I can move. I can see. I can comprehend. I can move. Take the pill. Lie down to wait. Sleep. Awake. I don’t hurt. I can think. I can move. I am back. I am a child of God. My spirit is there. I can pray. I can give thanks. I work and produce. The next headache will come, but I don’t have to wait for it. I can function. I can hope.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Ring-a-ding-ding
I’m sitting by the phone. I’m waiting for it to ring. It isn’t. When it does ring, someone on the other end wants me to spend money. So for all intents and purposes the phone isn’t ringing, it’s mooching. I pay the bill, well I have until now, but since I’m not making any money right now (and Blogging doesn’t help much either)…I might not be doing that soon. Then the phone couldn’t ring. It’s not that it wouldn’t or shouldn’t but at that point it couldn’t. Ringing phones drive me nuts. I hate the noise and I usually don’t want to talk to whoever is on the other end. But I want it to ring now and it won’t. Why not? I pay good money for it to ring. When it does I’m getting nothing out of it but annoyances. So why won’t it ring for me?
When the phone rings at our house it used to be everyone would race to answer it. Now as the kids grow older the only person who really wants to answer the phone is my wife. It’s usually for her anyway. She has a lot of irons in the fire and everybody likes her. My oldest son has people he calls. But that isn’t usually constructive. Then when the youngest is home between him and his friends the phone is in constant use and ringing somewhere, but not for me, never for me. I don’t bother to get up anymore to answer it. I do have it sitting next to me during the day, hoping that it will ring. The only ring I want to hear right now is a multi-million dollar job offer. That won’t happen so a normal job offer would be a welcome ring.
When you think about it the phone ring is really a ring through your nose. It leads you around your life pulling you where it wants. I always thought a service was supposed to serve. Instead the phone ring dictates. Like a wedding ring when it rings you must be faithful and answer it, after all you paid for the thing. If you aren’t faithful and let it go to voice mail, you get the huffy who hang up after two rings, the people who have real and good reasons to call you, and those who hang up on the voice mail. Those who hang up on voice mail are the dregs of the world. They are too important to leave a message. I don’t want to talk to them anyway, so stop calling. Those who are too busy to wait for the four rings are too busy for me to care about, so I wish they would stop calling. Those who leave legitimate messages want to talk to my wife…so call her cell phone and leave me out of it.
I wish the phone would ring, but there are some conditions to it. I pay enough money for it that it needs to do its job…so I can have one. Otherwise, just don’t bother to call. My wife isn’t home anyway. She’s out working so we can pay for the phone I don’t want to talk on. I guess I’m paying for one phone call. You’d think the price would go down, it doesn’t. If the right phone call comes I can afford to keep the phone around, and eat, and have heat and all that fun stuff.
I wish the phone would ring. Any phone ringing would be nice, even the cell phone, which I never answer. Please don’t call me, unless you have a job for me. I’m too busy playing Bejeweled.
When the phone rings at our house it used to be everyone would race to answer it. Now as the kids grow older the only person who really wants to answer the phone is my wife. It’s usually for her anyway. She has a lot of irons in the fire and everybody likes her. My oldest son has people he calls. But that isn’t usually constructive. Then when the youngest is home between him and his friends the phone is in constant use and ringing somewhere, but not for me, never for me. I don’t bother to get up anymore to answer it. I do have it sitting next to me during the day, hoping that it will ring. The only ring I want to hear right now is a multi-million dollar job offer. That won’t happen so a normal job offer would be a welcome ring.
When you think about it the phone ring is really a ring through your nose. It leads you around your life pulling you where it wants. I always thought a service was supposed to serve. Instead the phone ring dictates. Like a wedding ring when it rings you must be faithful and answer it, after all you paid for the thing. If you aren’t faithful and let it go to voice mail, you get the huffy who hang up after two rings, the people who have real and good reasons to call you, and those who hang up on the voice mail. Those who hang up on voice mail are the dregs of the world. They are too important to leave a message. I don’t want to talk to them anyway, so stop calling. Those who are too busy to wait for the four rings are too busy for me to care about, so I wish they would stop calling. Those who leave legitimate messages want to talk to my wife…so call her cell phone and leave me out of it.
I wish the phone would ring, but there are some conditions to it. I pay enough money for it that it needs to do its job…so I can have one. Otherwise, just don’t bother to call. My wife isn’t home anyway. She’s out working so we can pay for the phone I don’t want to talk on. I guess I’m paying for one phone call. You’d think the price would go down, it doesn’t. If the right phone call comes I can afford to keep the phone around, and eat, and have heat and all that fun stuff.
I wish the phone would ring. Any phone ringing would be nice, even the cell phone, which I never answer. Please don’t call me, unless you have a job for me. I’m too busy playing Bejeweled.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Life After Work
I was fired on Friday the 13th. The date really wasn’t significant. But as I carried my things out to my car I got a hernia. When I got home I found out my son was arrested. Now that was a bad day. Bad days come in a variety of flavors. Bad days where you have a hard time at work seem to be the most common. People yell at you, or you can’t figure something out, or if you do its wrong. Then there is the bad day where things just don’t go right at home. The kids are rotten, the bills are too high, and maybe there was a fender bender. The real bad ones are the days where you or someone you know get hurt or die or something like that.
None of the bad days are good by definition. But some you can forget about and just move on. Others you have to live with for awhile. I especially don’t like those kinds of bad days. But then there are those like my Friday the 13th experience where they all combine. That’s called stress. The interesting thing is everyone wants to cheer you up and tries to make you feel like everything is fine. You smile and agree and say I hope so and thank you, when the truth of the mater is you just want to be angry for at least a day.
I mean really, don’t you deserve just one day to feel like a loser? A day where you can curse the cosmic realities of life and just say to hell with you all? I think you deserve that on a day like my Friday the 13th. You might even deserve 2 days. But then you have to get on with living on Monday the 16th. Look for a job, schedule surgery for the hernia, go bail your kid out of jail. But you at least deserve one day of being just plain angry at the world.
Now I know that isn’t productive, but it feels better by the time Monday comes around. During my pout session I did wonder if it would be allowed in heaven to pout when the harp polish runs out or if the wing clippings don’t get swept up from the clouds after the trim. Is pouting allowed in Heaven? Can you be fired from Heaven once you’re in? St. Peter from HR sits you down and says after reviewing your last miracle we’ve decided that this isn’t a good fit and so we are letting you go. You ask in a panic, “You don’t mean I’m going to hell?” St. Peter simply nods, and you ask, “Am I re-hirable?” St. Peter starts quoting chapter and verse from the Heaven handbook of standard operating procedures and lets you know that after only one millennia you may re-apply for angel ship, but that your permanent file will be retained for at least 7 millennia for legal purposes. They can’t have all those lawyers from hell knocking on their door without documentation.
Of course you could still apply for other positions, Guardian Angel is open occasionally, and so is benevolent ghost. But full fledged Angelhood will be very difficult. But Heaven does have a policy about hiring from within, so there is a chance of both lateral and even upward promotions. Unfortunately, though at this time, you are condemned to Hell for the time being. There is a spot in Limbo, or at least there was until the Pope decided to downsize and closed the department. So you won’t need to take your drink cup, it won’t be allowed down there anyway. Good luck and happy Friday the 13th.
You see, there is life after work, its the quality that is in question. So can you be angry in hell for a decade or two and pout, before you start applying for coal distribution director?
None of the bad days are good by definition. But some you can forget about and just move on. Others you have to live with for awhile. I especially don’t like those kinds of bad days. But then there are those like my Friday the 13th experience where they all combine. That’s called stress. The interesting thing is everyone wants to cheer you up and tries to make you feel like everything is fine. You smile and agree and say I hope so and thank you, when the truth of the mater is you just want to be angry for at least a day.
I mean really, don’t you deserve just one day to feel like a loser? A day where you can curse the cosmic realities of life and just say to hell with you all? I think you deserve that on a day like my Friday the 13th. You might even deserve 2 days. But then you have to get on with living on Monday the 16th. Look for a job, schedule surgery for the hernia, go bail your kid out of jail. But you at least deserve one day of being just plain angry at the world.
Now I know that isn’t productive, but it feels better by the time Monday comes around. During my pout session I did wonder if it would be allowed in heaven to pout when the harp polish runs out or if the wing clippings don’t get swept up from the clouds after the trim. Is pouting allowed in Heaven? Can you be fired from Heaven once you’re in? St. Peter from HR sits you down and says after reviewing your last miracle we’ve decided that this isn’t a good fit and so we are letting you go. You ask in a panic, “You don’t mean I’m going to hell?” St. Peter simply nods, and you ask, “Am I re-hirable?” St. Peter starts quoting chapter and verse from the Heaven handbook of standard operating procedures and lets you know that after only one millennia you may re-apply for angel ship, but that your permanent file will be retained for at least 7 millennia for legal purposes. They can’t have all those lawyers from hell knocking on their door without documentation.
Of course you could still apply for other positions, Guardian Angel is open occasionally, and so is benevolent ghost. But full fledged Angelhood will be very difficult. But Heaven does have a policy about hiring from within, so there is a chance of both lateral and even upward promotions. Unfortunately, though at this time, you are condemned to Hell for the time being. There is a spot in Limbo, or at least there was until the Pope decided to downsize and closed the department. So you won’t need to take your drink cup, it won’t be allowed down there anyway. Good luck and happy Friday the 13th.
You see, there is life after work, its the quality that is in question. So can you be angry in hell for a decade or two and pout, before you start applying for coal distribution director?
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Progress to Where or Will I Ever Get There?
There I was the other morning, driving to work, listening to my CD, shooting the cars in front of me who decided to enforce the speed limit 5-10 miles under the limit (they travel in groups you know)...OK not literally shooting them...but pushing the off button for my cruise control and making shooting sounds (laser sounds of course), when suddenly we get stopped at a light which if we had traveled at or just 5 over the speed limit we would all have made...I looked over to the car on my right.
Now understand I am not anti female driver. I really am not. I find that there are a lot of good female drivers. My wife included. But this person in the car next to me was a female. She had her cell phone in one ear on her shoulder, she was using her left hand to put on makeup, while she was reaching into the back seat giving the baby a bottle. From the looks of her she's not one of those speed limit enforcers, but she is one of those traffic hazards that are wandering from right to left in her lane, going slower than the flow of traffic (not to mention the speed limit) and then she suddenly darts into your lane in front of you, because she decides she wants to be there instead of in the right outside lane.
Now this person is the same person who writes to the newspaper in the letters to the editor and complains that someone somewhere is thinking of putting a law on cell phone use. I say forget the phone, put a law against her driving. Because if she's not on the phone she's thumbing through her CD collection or playing with the radio dial, While combing her hair and handing the baby a cookie.
She of course objects to the law and also insists she has the right to drive the speed limit in the left lane. It is her right and she's going to do it, and she doesn't see that her driving is impaired at all. At this point an out of body experience might help her see what kind of driver she is. I'd love to have her sit in the passenger seat next to me while I drive behind her and the other two idiots in the other two lanes in front of me, keeping pace with her. You can't go around them, unless you go into the emergency lane. And each one has their own agenda. The enforcers are the ones who say they are going to obey the speed limit and by darn (they wouldn't ever say damn) so will you. They are pious and snooty. But when they need to butt in line in front of you they are also the ones most angry when you refuse to give ground. After all it is their right.
The guy in the other lane is wearing a hat...and is 90 years old and driving carefully, but trying desperately to keep up. These guys write to the editor and complain about all those cars whizzing past them...why can't people just slow down (tell that to my boss, they insist I come in on time. So why don't I leave early? I do. But when you get into one of these processions you might as well just waive to the passing crowd like you're in a parade...because you're going to be late no matter how early you leave. Then if you do get to work a little early...well I sit in the car and enjoy some more CD. Who wants to give the boss free time?).
Those are the good days. Now they are reconstructing a major intersection on my way to work. You know in all the years I've traveled through that intersection over 10 years...it's never been a problem or have a lot of back up...but in the wisdom of the traffic engineers they're going to try some new fangled intersection where at a certain time of day it goes one way and another time of day it goes the other. In the meantime, the traffic jams that never were happening are.
Can you imagine what will happen when they get done? Which way is which? What time is it now? What I see is a bunch of traffic jams and accidents...but it's all progress isn't it. I wish I were a flying squirrel.
Now understand I am not anti female driver. I really am not. I find that there are a lot of good female drivers. My wife included. But this person in the car next to me was a female. She had her cell phone in one ear on her shoulder, she was using her left hand to put on makeup, while she was reaching into the back seat giving the baby a bottle. From the looks of her she's not one of those speed limit enforcers, but she is one of those traffic hazards that are wandering from right to left in her lane, going slower than the flow of traffic (not to mention the speed limit) and then she suddenly darts into your lane in front of you, because she decides she wants to be there instead of in the right outside lane.
Now this person is the same person who writes to the newspaper in the letters to the editor and complains that someone somewhere is thinking of putting a law on cell phone use. I say forget the phone, put a law against her driving. Because if she's not on the phone she's thumbing through her CD collection or playing with the radio dial, While combing her hair and handing the baby a cookie.
She of course objects to the law and also insists she has the right to drive the speed limit in the left lane. It is her right and she's going to do it, and she doesn't see that her driving is impaired at all. At this point an out of body experience might help her see what kind of driver she is. I'd love to have her sit in the passenger seat next to me while I drive behind her and the other two idiots in the other two lanes in front of me, keeping pace with her. You can't go around them, unless you go into the emergency lane. And each one has their own agenda. The enforcers are the ones who say they are going to obey the speed limit and by darn (they wouldn't ever say damn) so will you. They are pious and snooty. But when they need to butt in line in front of you they are also the ones most angry when you refuse to give ground. After all it is their right.
The guy in the other lane is wearing a hat...and is 90 years old and driving carefully, but trying desperately to keep up. These guys write to the editor and complain about all those cars whizzing past them...why can't people just slow down (tell that to my boss, they insist I come in on time. So why don't I leave early? I do. But when you get into one of these processions you might as well just waive to the passing crowd like you're in a parade...because you're going to be late no matter how early you leave. Then if you do get to work a little early...well I sit in the car and enjoy some more CD. Who wants to give the boss free time?).
Those are the good days. Now they are reconstructing a major intersection on my way to work. You know in all the years I've traveled through that intersection over 10 years...it's never been a problem or have a lot of back up...but in the wisdom of the traffic engineers they're going to try some new fangled intersection where at a certain time of day it goes one way and another time of day it goes the other. In the meantime, the traffic jams that never were happening are.
Can you imagine what will happen when they get done? Which way is which? What time is it now? What I see is a bunch of traffic jams and accidents...but it's all progress isn't it. I wish I were a flying squirrel.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Lizard Lips
This past week reminds me of the little ditty from the play Paint Your Wagon…Ol’ Ben Rumson got married today, married today, married today. Ol’ Ben Rumson got married today. What’ll he do tomorrow? Substitute Nancy Pelosi for Ol’ Ben Rumson and “went to Syria” for “got married” and you see why this past week was one for the silly file. Let’s see now, who elected Nancy Pelosi Queen? The only thing I’ve seen her do well is lick her lips contemptuously behind the President during the State of the Union. Lizard Lips Nancy, elected by the weirdoes’ of San Francisco. And this is who the media wants to see buck the system and go negotiate world peace with Syria. Oh it is all a media stunt to be sure. If CNN and the rest ignored the trip she would not have been in bed with the Terrorist government of Syria. But then the media is always good for a laugh.
For instance, Vice President Cheney was picked as a graduation speaker at BYU. There are protests….at BYU. Of course that’s all fermenting from Rocky Anderson mayor of Salt Lake City and his desire to impeach somebody, anybody. He’d impeach Hannity if he knew how. While we’re at the media this week, we can’t forget how Warren Jeffs was discredited in court this week by a daily newspaper who took a peak at a private letter through a camera lens then splashed it on the front page. This guy is being tried in the press obviously and just lost, because some photographer snapped a pitcher and you could read his note. Now he’s considered guilty before the trial even starts. He may be. But at least let him have his trial before pronouncing him man and wife with the gurney.
I’ve watched several stories about sex offenders this week, where the homes and addresses of the accused (not convicted) are shown on the nightly news. These ogres of society (and if they are guilty they are much worse than that) are outed and hung before they even are arraigned. Guilty until proven innocent…that’s what I always say. Make them prove their innocence against lying kids who have agendas….oh wait children never lie do they, sorry forgot. Prosecutors have all the luck. Yes I have some issues…not the ones you are suspecting though.
Back to Nancy though, in all her wisdom she is conducting foreign policy on behalf of a country that didn’t elect her. She is only third in line because she holds an office the Founding Fathers thought might be useful in the event of a national major tragedy. She’ll never be president. There are amendments to the Constitution that will see to that. What I can’t figure out is where the Democrats come up with this so called mandate. The elections they won were so narrow they could have swung either way, and were based on local issues, otherwise Lieberman would have lost. So here’s what the media can do to help things along. Give Lizard Lips a book deal for a Coup. She can march into the White House while George and the Mrs. are in Texas…and plop her self down behind the desk, lick her lips and then just surrender the United States to Islam. That should do it. Nancy Pelosi committed treason today, treason today, treason today, Nancy Pelosi committed treason today, what’ll she do tomorrow? Speak at BYU commencement! Won’t Rocky be so proud!
For instance, Vice President Cheney was picked as a graduation speaker at BYU. There are protests….at BYU. Of course that’s all fermenting from Rocky Anderson mayor of Salt Lake City and his desire to impeach somebody, anybody. He’d impeach Hannity if he knew how. While we’re at the media this week, we can’t forget how Warren Jeffs was discredited in court this week by a daily newspaper who took a peak at a private letter through a camera lens then splashed it on the front page. This guy is being tried in the press obviously and just lost, because some photographer snapped a pitcher and you could read his note. Now he’s considered guilty before the trial even starts. He may be. But at least let him have his trial before pronouncing him man and wife with the gurney.
I’ve watched several stories about sex offenders this week, where the homes and addresses of the accused (not convicted) are shown on the nightly news. These ogres of society (and if they are guilty they are much worse than that) are outed and hung before they even are arraigned. Guilty until proven innocent…that’s what I always say. Make them prove their innocence against lying kids who have agendas….oh wait children never lie do they, sorry forgot. Prosecutors have all the luck. Yes I have some issues…not the ones you are suspecting though.
Back to Nancy though, in all her wisdom she is conducting foreign policy on behalf of a country that didn’t elect her. She is only third in line because she holds an office the Founding Fathers thought might be useful in the event of a national major tragedy. She’ll never be president. There are amendments to the Constitution that will see to that. What I can’t figure out is where the Democrats come up with this so called mandate. The elections they won were so narrow they could have swung either way, and were based on local issues, otherwise Lieberman would have lost. So here’s what the media can do to help things along. Give Lizard Lips a book deal for a Coup. She can march into the White House while George and the Mrs. are in Texas…and plop her self down behind the desk, lick her lips and then just surrender the United States to Islam. That should do it. Nancy Pelosi committed treason today, treason today, treason today, Nancy Pelosi committed treason today, what’ll she do tomorrow? Speak at BYU commencement! Won’t Rocky be so proud!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Idle
Why do I watch Idol? I don't like the show. I have no love for any of the judges or the host. I can't stand the way most of them sing. So why do I watch it? I have no idea. It must be the competition. The suspense of who will not be there, and watching the contestants squirm while they wait to find out. That must be it. I think I put myself in their position and identify with them. In real life I seem to always be in the position where someone else holds my fate in their hands, and I have to wait for the blade to fall.
I think we all are in a position like that often. That's why we watch. It's like a going to a bullfight and cheering for the bull. At a hockey game the real entertainment is if they get in a fight…to heck with the game. So why do I watch American Idol? It isn’t a civilized reason I’m quite sure.
Why do we watch the elections with fascination or the scandals in Washington as they unfold? Is it because we want to see somebody “git” it? Take Gonzales, the Attorney General for now. He can’t survive all of the attention he’s getting. We all know it so we watch the news and how it unfolds. We want to see a Mormon “git” it in the polls. We want Hillary to make it just because she’s a woman. Now the question is once she has the nomination what will we be hoping for? That she “gits” it and Rudy kills her on Election Day? Or are we watching and hoping she gets into office and messes up to the point that a woman can’t be elected again for sometime? Or are we just fascinated by the battle?
I’m to the point right now that I’d just as soon be voted off the Earth rather than go through all this nonsense. I’m tired of Democrats trying to embarrass Republicans, and Republicans trying to assert infallibility, and Obama trying to be white and Hillary trying to be Black, Rudy trying to be conservative, and Bush trying to be right. I’m tired of people having my future in their hands and toying with it. I’m tired of people telling me what to do and how to do it. I’m tired of being the person who can’t go anywhere or do anything, because someone somewhere thinks I should always be at entry level in authority and pay, as they pat themselves on the back. I had someone tell me an email I sent was condescending, in her own condescending tone of voice. I’m tired of bigotry, I’m tired of hatred, I’m tired of the election, I tired of Shawn Hannity, I’m tired of Rocky Anderson, I’m tired of American Idol. But I’ll probably watch it again next week. What else is there to do? Read a book? Even then someone is telling you what to think.
As a read this over I realize that there are a lot of people, if they read this, would say, “Take the bull by the horns, make something of yourself.” But you see every time I do that the crowd cheers for the bull. I cheer for the bull sometimes. After a lifetime of getting smacked down and getting back up, I’m running out of energy to keep getting back up. When does my turn come? There are no turns. You have to be the bull, and in the end you still lose. So what is the answer? Tell me quick before Idol (or is it Idle?) comes back on….PLEEEEAAAASE!!!!
I think we all are in a position like that often. That's why we watch. It's like a going to a bullfight and cheering for the bull. At a hockey game the real entertainment is if they get in a fight…to heck with the game. So why do I watch American Idol? It isn’t a civilized reason I’m quite sure.
Why do we watch the elections with fascination or the scandals in Washington as they unfold? Is it because we want to see somebody “git” it? Take Gonzales, the Attorney General for now. He can’t survive all of the attention he’s getting. We all know it so we watch the news and how it unfolds. We want to see a Mormon “git” it in the polls. We want Hillary to make it just because she’s a woman. Now the question is once she has the nomination what will we be hoping for? That she “gits” it and Rudy kills her on Election Day? Or are we watching and hoping she gets into office and messes up to the point that a woman can’t be elected again for sometime? Or are we just fascinated by the battle?
I’m to the point right now that I’d just as soon be voted off the Earth rather than go through all this nonsense. I’m tired of Democrats trying to embarrass Republicans, and Republicans trying to assert infallibility, and Obama trying to be white and Hillary trying to be Black, Rudy trying to be conservative, and Bush trying to be right. I’m tired of people having my future in their hands and toying with it. I’m tired of people telling me what to do and how to do it. I’m tired of being the person who can’t go anywhere or do anything, because someone somewhere thinks I should always be at entry level in authority and pay, as they pat themselves on the back. I had someone tell me an email I sent was condescending, in her own condescending tone of voice. I’m tired of bigotry, I’m tired of hatred, I’m tired of the election, I tired of Shawn Hannity, I’m tired of Rocky Anderson, I’m tired of American Idol. But I’ll probably watch it again next week. What else is there to do? Read a book? Even then someone is telling you what to think.
As a read this over I realize that there are a lot of people, if they read this, would say, “Take the bull by the horns, make something of yourself.” But you see every time I do that the crowd cheers for the bull. I cheer for the bull sometimes. After a lifetime of getting smacked down and getting back up, I’m running out of energy to keep getting back up. When does my turn come? There are no turns. You have to be the bull, and in the end you still lose. So what is the answer? Tell me quick before Idol (or is it Idle?) comes back on….PLEEEEAAAASE!!!!
Monday, March 19, 2007
Cholo
I heard a number last week that was interesting. 23,000. The number alone doesn’t mean much. Put it together with 14 hours. Is it still extraneous? Try this number. 3,000, combined with 4 years. That set may be more obvious in today’s world. Here’s another one. 6,000 in 3 to 4 hours. That you’ll never guess unless you witnessed it. I did last Sunday night, and though similar astounding numbers were in play today as well, there’s only one number on my mind after the events of the last 72 hours or so. The number is one. That’s it, just one.
You see, the first number, 23,000 is one I learned this week in a PBS documentary about the Civil War. It is the death toll at the battle of Antietam, a battle that lasted about 14 hours. The numbers 3,000 in 4 years is the approximate loss of American soldiers in Iraq, which pales in comparison. The last number is the number of people who passed through a reception line last night to spend 30 seconds to offer their condolences to a young man’s parents, whose son was killed in a tragic accident. The number one…the dead boy who had such an impact on so many people that they were willing to spend their Sunday evening, and their day Monday saying goodbye.
One young man, age 18. His life snuffed out when he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t do. In his short life his vibrant personality, the twinkle in his eye, his laughter, his willingness to reach out to one person at a time and treat them as best friends, created one unforgettable legacy. His death devastated his family, his school, his friends, and relatives. I’m one of the latter. I didn’t spend hours and days with him. I did recognize his goodness and ability to light up a room. He had that charisma that is magical and unexplainable.
In 24 hours the world will rotate 360 degrees. 6,000 lives will go on. One mother though is living with a heart as broken as his body. One father has emptiness so very deep it will never again be full. One sister lives on with memories of a younger brother she will not have standing in her wedding line (as if he would have stayed put anyway). One cousin will miss his best friend. One 2nd cousin who always admired him and who wished he had known him better, will miss him because he was a joy to watch as he worked his magic. This is one young man who won’t go to war, one young man who won’t be there to make the outcast his best friend, one young man who made a mistake and left us all wondering what should have been.
And though the 23,000 and the 3,000 each has their own story, this one is one story that I know. This one is sad and tragic. I’m sure the others are too. But there is One whom we can turn to, all 6 Billion of us. Each one of us can seek the comfort from this One who weeps with us at what could have been, but will now use the experience of this one young man to help us all become better at being one who can make a difference. You weren’t perfect I know, but thank you, Cholo for being one with Him who heals us and makes miracles happen. Your life, though needlessly cut short, was not in vain and your death has helped to turn at least one heart toward a better path.
You see, the first number, 23,000 is one I learned this week in a PBS documentary about the Civil War. It is the death toll at the battle of Antietam, a battle that lasted about 14 hours. The numbers 3,000 in 4 years is the approximate loss of American soldiers in Iraq, which pales in comparison. The last number is the number of people who passed through a reception line last night to spend 30 seconds to offer their condolences to a young man’s parents, whose son was killed in a tragic accident. The number one…the dead boy who had such an impact on so many people that they were willing to spend their Sunday evening, and their day Monday saying goodbye.
One young man, age 18. His life snuffed out when he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t do. In his short life his vibrant personality, the twinkle in his eye, his laughter, his willingness to reach out to one person at a time and treat them as best friends, created one unforgettable legacy. His death devastated his family, his school, his friends, and relatives. I’m one of the latter. I didn’t spend hours and days with him. I did recognize his goodness and ability to light up a room. He had that charisma that is magical and unexplainable.
In 24 hours the world will rotate 360 degrees. 6,000 lives will go on. One mother though is living with a heart as broken as his body. One father has emptiness so very deep it will never again be full. One sister lives on with memories of a younger brother she will not have standing in her wedding line (as if he would have stayed put anyway). One cousin will miss his best friend. One 2nd cousin who always admired him and who wished he had known him better, will miss him because he was a joy to watch as he worked his magic. This is one young man who won’t go to war, one young man who won’t be there to make the outcast his best friend, one young man who made a mistake and left us all wondering what should have been.
And though the 23,000 and the 3,000 each has their own story, this one is one story that I know. This one is sad and tragic. I’m sure the others are too. But there is One whom we can turn to, all 6 Billion of us. Each one of us can seek the comfort from this One who weeps with us at what could have been, but will now use the experience of this one young man to help us all become better at being one who can make a difference. You weren’t perfect I know, but thank you, Cholo for being one with Him who heals us and makes miracles happen. Your life, though needlessly cut short, was not in vain and your death has helped to turn at least one heart toward a better path.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)