Not too surprising that news websites based in the U.S. tend to talk about news in the U.S. more often than news happening outside our borders. While it's tempting to focus inward and ignore what happens outside of our front door, it's usually benefits us to be aware of what happens outside the front door to our house/apartment because, sometimes, those outside events begin to affect what happens inside our homes.
Here's what tops one news site now in southeast Asia:
and what tops another site's southeast Asia page. You'll have to trust that the screen grabs were done within 2 minutes of each other:
One site leads the lists with how the Asian markets are performing while the other leads with what is being said is needed to help those affected by ongoing flooding in Pakistan. It's not that difficult to tell whose website leans toward the conservative end and which leans liberal.
I've even tried going outside my figurative front door to see what is truly an important news story. I now know I am not immune
to the trivial and inconsequential in a news site. Be that as it may, I think the third site with the silly story gets closer to what the truth of what we all should know as we go about our day-to-day:
A controversial intersection of politics, religion and the 4th of July happened earlier this month in Hyrum, UT:
The Hyrum City Council is being criticized for allowing the closing prayer at the city's Fourth of July program to be given in Spanish.
[. . .]
Maria Montalvo, of Hyrum's Church of God Ebenezer, asked if the prayer could be offered in Spanish and translated into English.
"She does speak some English, but she was uncomfortable with standing in front of everyone and speaking English," Miller said. "She asked if we would mind if she did it in Spanish, and we didn't see that there was a problem with that as long as it was translated."
The decision has been criticized as unpatriotic and wrong in a flurry of recent letters to the Logan Herald Journal. One letter, from LaVon G. Hanson, a World War II veteran from Logan, called for the city council to be "impeached and sent to Mexico."
The article continues by saying that the prayer offered in next year's July 4th celebration won't be in Spanish.
I had all sorts of questions after reading this. First, where is Hyrum, Utah and who was likely in the crowd at that celebration that might have been unnerved by the bi-lingual pronouncement. A quick search finds Hyrum about 80 miles north of Salt Lake City surrounded by the mountains and trees of the Cache National Forest. Another quick search finds the Census Bureau figuring roughly 12% of the state's population is of Hispanic/Latino origin.
I'm still mystified as to what is to be feared by praying out loud in Spanish anywhere in Utah, let alone in Hyrum. Then again, I'm afraid of flying. I can trace my fear to a very turbulent commuter flight I took as a teenager. In spite of a lot of study into the physics of flying, the design of jet engines, the training and refreshers commercial jet pilots get all the time, etc., I still grab the arms of my coach seats in sheer terror whenever the "fasten safety belt" sign rings then turns on in the middle of the flight. The only time that cursed ring/light switched on calms me down is when I know the plane is headed toward the landing strip.
Then again, perhaps I do understand what all of the irrational fear is about. It doesn't mean I will stop flying nor does it cease my wonder at watching large commercial jets floating down to a landing whenever I'm near LAX. In spite of the controversy this past July 4 in Hyrum, perhaps that prayer touched someone in the crowd who needed to hear it and did not feel compelled to fire out a fear-filled screed to the local paper.
Quite a moving moment. This is where Choi's and my paths begin to part, I suppose. Choi stands to be the face of a movement, while I try to write about it by relating it to my own experiences.
I have submitted my first resume. Not quite the same as handing my proverbial "you're fired" papers over to a U.S. Senator, but a journey of a thousand miles . .
Before today, it was just one thing uniting us. The unity between any two out gay men makes many nervous, giggly, squirmy to talk about. In all fairness, he doesn't know me and me seeing him interviewed tonight does nothing earth-shattering in me getting to know him as a person.
He and I will always be gay.
Now, we both share this particular day as the day we both were fired from our primary livelihood.
While Lieutenant (now "Mr.", I guess) Choi admits to having been in his chosen livelihood "since (he) was eighteen (years old)" and I was working a 40 hour a week (not including the 1 hour lunch time and 80 minute, one-way commute) for the last 16 months, the feeling he described having for much of the day nicely sums up my own feelings in the last few hours since my unceremonious firing.
There is every possibility that Choi has a career as a rally/protest/community organizer, a politician or even make some other use of the skills he learned while in the National Guard.
While he weighs his options, I will weigh mine. Meanwhile, with all of this free time on my hands, maybe I'll post a little more often.
I spent most of the afternoon yesterday at the Long Beach Pride Festival. The experience (and the spending) started before I even got into the Festival after an engaging conversation with a young Greenpeace member. After the colossal, uh, I-can't-say-it-without-swearing, situation in the Gulf of Mexico, a group like Greenpeace is in a position to have a stronger voice in our country's environmental policy. And, thanks to folks like me, a few more bucks in their coffers.
I spent the afternoon being vaccinated, "cracker-jack" tattooed by the FBI, signing petitions and grabbing flyers and postcards from various organizations' booths throughout the Festival. I closed my eyes and took in a drumming performance, danced to a couple of old-school jamz (the only sort I seem to know these days) and even had my palm read. Darn good reader, by the way, as far as checking for changes in my facial expression, pulse in my neck and/or lack of either. I really have to look in to that as a regular gig: 4 goof balls like me every hour paying $5 a piece sounds like pretty solid foundation for a business. And, if I can turn the goof balls into suckers, $10 and $20 per person would be just icing on the cake.
Fortunately, a case of post-nasal drip and a huskier voice than usual this morning and this story, from Malawi in south-eastern Africa, was sobering. If you find yourself struggling in your own relationships, a read of those two men's situation in their own country, where just declaring your love is reason enough for jail without bail, a speedy judgment and, all but likely long-term prison sentence becomes your fate.
And if you think your own struggles are done, this story shows that the freedom of any adult to love another consenting adult is not yet secured.
My apologies for the less-than-ideal video/audio quality in the clip below. However, the words are easy enough to hear.
When talking recently about President Obama's pick for the next Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan and Ms. Kagan's stated opinions on the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy regarding gays and lesbians serving without having to hide their sexual identity, the conversation Senator Inhofe and radio host Bryan Fischer have meanders into an all-too-telling look into the personal feelings the Senator has about gays and lesbians in the military in general:
" .. you have women, men then you'd have a third group to deal with . ."
As a gay man, I'm supposing I'd be a part of the "third group". What in the blazes does the Senator think folks in the "third group" look like? I couldn't help but visualize a couple of new sets of barracks on some base/post/station into which the "third group" would be housed.
Perhaps some of these G.Is are a part of this "third group". What would their special barracks look like, do you suppose, Senator?
(btw, perfectly OK to giggle, guffaw and/or laugh yourself silly. All I saw in the clip below is some bored GIs with time to kill and a need to entertain themselves. Still . . )
" . . we're not doing it for the flag or for the country, we're doing it for the guy in the next foxhole . ."
Stifling the urge to giggle at the unintentional double-entendre at the end of this quote, here's a much more clear-headed set of reasons why soldiers do what they do for us every day all over the world. Straight from the source (no pun intended).
Emotions aside, the clip from the radio interview smells like pandering to the conservative base at its worst. I've learned from my little bit of experience in the wide, wide world of politics, though, that it's impossible to set emotion aside from the business of governing. To this end, politicians like Senator Inhofe know this is so just like a reflex and the best of the best in politics can spit out rhetoric reflexively.
Still, this one really cuts through me. I felt like I was grouped in with aliens from outer space, mutants or some other science-fiction imagined third gender. Then, I felt like no matter how committed and honorable I was with my friends, family, co-workers and people I pass on the street, that my ultimate goal in life is nothing but sexual pleasure. I still can't wrap my head around the third quote above. From all I have read, the need to protect, defend and fight along side the soldiers in my unit/platoon, etc., becomes reflexive like breathing or blinking. The former servicemen and women I have worked with and those in my personal life carry that same sensibility with them well after their service to their country has ended.
I cannot imagine how much more strongly a gay or lesbian soldier must feel about this after hearing this mess from Inhofe.
Here are a few lines of verse released a little over 25 years ago:
'Cause you feel life's unreal and you're living a lie Such a shame who's to blame and you're wondering why Then you ask from your cask is there life after birth What you saw can mean hell on this earth
Many years ago, these words and others in the song were listened to over and over by a young man who then took his own life. The questions asked at the time (and I was a teenager fully into the heavy metal scene then) was did the song lead this kid into doing what he did?
The song is really about the death of former AC/DC lead singer Bon Scott. The second word of the song's title refers to mixture of alcohols, not what one develops to overcome a problem, suggesting that suicide is a fix to a problem.
I was pretty outraged to even hear the conversation. As a teen myself at the time, I knew other teens who were struggling with emotional issues that teens deal with. Most of us found reasonably health ways of dealing with those issues while the rest struggled to cope.
Was there anger to feel? Sure. It's perfectly understandable to be angry at the kid's parents, family, friends, teachers and school administrators for not seeing the signs of depression in this young man and intervening. To blame a flamboyant singer and songwriter who recorded the song somewhere far away, not knowing who bought any one of several million copies of the album would listen, is the last person to blame. I didn't buy the album, but I have heard plenty of music with pretty dark lyrics and I'm still here and writing. If it wasn't this song, the young man may just as well as found some other outlet for dealing with his mental health issues.
So, what does this guy:
have to do with this guy?
If you've been following the news on the passage of health insurance reform, many a liberal talker can't help but take a pass at what Glenn Beck has been saying about the bill before it was passed. MediaMatters.org has been documenting every little nugget of Beck-ness as of late.
Let me make clear: I'm not a fan of Glenn Beck.
That said, to point at Beck and knit his words / performance to any of the violence and profanity-laced ugliness being sent at some in Congress in recent days looks to me a whole lot like pinning one young man's death be pinned to a song on an Ozzy Osbourne album that had nothing to do with the act of killing one's self.
I would much rather keep Beck on the air, jabbing at blackboards and emoting all over the place, then have any performer become censored. If those individuals who are lashing out at select Representatives don't tune in to Beck, they would only find someone else to listen to and would find the permission they think they need to behave they way they are behaving.
You can't stop political talk just like you can't stop rock and roll. But if the line between discourse and provocation begins to spill over into anxiety, depression and a need to do harm to one's self or others, please click the link I'll always keep at the top of this page.
Today was my second time attending a pro-peace rally/march in Hollywood. The march route was a bit shorter than last year (no pass-by the CNN building on Sunset Blvd.); however, the number of participants remained unchanged from last year. At least, as far as I could see by walking around the people before and during the march.
The variety of groups represented were the same (click here for the photos), but I only got three handouts this time around. I missed not seeing last year's lone anti-march protester -- but only a little. And, truth be told, the pre-march rally and most of the march itself felt a little bit like routine.
Until we stopped just before Hollywood Blvd. and Highland Ave.
Ron Kovic addressed the march at that point in the route and wanted those "within the sound of (his) voice" to sit down where they stood - whether in the middle of the Boulevard or on the sidewalk (I split the difference and sat on the curb). About one hundred people or so heard the instruction and sat (see the 2nd and 3rd to last photos in the collection) for about 5 minutes. The mood of the march changed from "oh, we're doing this again . . " to "Oh. This is something new!"
This motion felt something like hitting a reset button for the march. As we crossed Highland Ave. and started into the crowd of weekend tourists milling around, the chanting got louder and more passionate, the sign waving got a little more frenzied and, perhaps feeding on the spectator's energy, the march felt revitalized.
I only wished I did. Getting a little low on blood sugar and feeling an achy lower back from the hours of standing, marching, etc., I headed back to the Metro stop and home.
So, instead of being the minister last year, I received a dose of ministering today. I pray others received a dose of that as well.
A Saturday night full of bingo, corned beef & cabbage and a little too much dessert & soda made for a wonderful diversion, even if I was just one number away from a large diamond BINGO.
I've been as attentive as usual to all the goings-on in the news this week. Rather than look at politics and other news in a glass half-empty, cynical and jaded point of view, I'm going to approach what I've read/seen by giving thanks.
I'm thankful Eric Massa spoke the truth instead of hiding and denying it. I've been on the receiving end of that sort of harassment at work and feel blessed it was not as severe and humiliating as it must have been for his staff member.
I'm thankful for Hilary Clinton for tapping even a small hole into what seemed before a solid, flawless fort of support for Israel. I won't pretend to understand the complexities of the relationship between Israel and Palestinians, but to swear a blind allegiance to one side of any conflict without a full appreciation for why the other side does what it does will let one fall for anything their ally does. I don't expect her or anyone in U.S. politics to find a solution that works for all parties. That she flew in the face of convention tells me she's not nearly as predictable as others have been in the past.
Finally, as odd as it sounds, I'm thankful Keith Olbermann took the time to talk about his father's illness and the fact his family was able to talk about how his father wanted to be cared for when he was too ill to speak for himself. While his father is done fighting, I hope for others this starts a discussion that ends with a Living Will. I've had one for 15 years and it's something I have never worried about since.
We can choose to let the news weigh down and exasperate us or celebrate those in the news who help us to appreciate what we have and challenge us to do something outside of our comfort zone.
One Senator holding up continued funding of Unemployment benefits and causing a couple of thousand of Government employees to have to take furlough (no pay) days this week is frustrating, maddening and, in light of how our country has been for the past 18 months is just plain unconscionable.
Lots of bloggers, pundits, etc., are batting about guesses as to why Senator Bunning did what he did and had the bill he held up pass the Senate with 78 votes earlier this evening.
I just feel sorry for him.
He is retiring from the Senate at the end of this year. In my own limited experience, the outbursts, etc., have the feel of a teen with a bad case of senioritis or a long-term employee finding out he is being laid off at the end of the month with a shoddy (or no) severance package. Perhaps the man is suffering with his own physical health issues or is trying to manage with a major healthcare issue of someone he loves. I've had tastes of one and a sometimes-way-too-big helping of the other as of late, and that can really take a bite out of one's backside and wear one's nerves to their bitter end.
My hope is that the Senator can take the remainder of his term in the Senate enjoying all that comes with representing the state of Kentucky (a very pretty state which happens to be home to a dear friend of mine) and perhaps gathering his thoughts on a life full of success in professional baseball and public service.
Any more displays from him like the country witnessed these past few days will just serve to cause more talk about his last years and less appreciation for the decades that have led to this point.
West Coast version: lunch at the local tasty burger joint. I counted 6 workers there at least this afternoon. The black outfits and big badges announcing their purpose were easy to spot.
East Coast version: Buffet lunch for most and the President takes a couple of questions from reporters as he walks home to eat.
About the debate over whether or not to repeal "Don't Ask, Don't Tell", this article posted at Stars and Stripes' website should end it. I know it really doesn't, but three consecutive town hall-style meetings with soldiers and sailors where DADT wasn't brought up until Admiral Mullen brought it up and, even then, the groups had way more pressing issues to discuss.
I'm planning on being at a peace rally/march in the Hollywood area on March 20 -- look for the yellow tile on the left and click it for more details.
Meanwhile, one of my favorite bands from the '80s is back with a new song after 10 years with their new album due in a little over a month. Stephen's voice is as good as it's been in the last 20 years and it's so nice to hear a Warren DeMartini guitar solo after so long! Keep the spandex in the closet and grab yer air guitar while I collect a few more thoughs
There have been a few stories that borrow from the principal of the rainbow -- the very picture of the beginnings of light shining through a dark and stormy scene.
First, Lt. Dan Choi, who has put a face on the fight to repeal the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy within our military, was able to drill with his unit (no laughing, please) recently. While it's not the bright, shimmering rainbow one would hope for, I'll take anything that leads toward a repeal of this absurd policy.
Another survivor was pulled from the rubble yesterday in Port-au-Prince and the man is still recovering. That would make him having survived, somehow, for 27 days. And, life goes on in that nation. If it only took sheer willpower and spirit to recover from last month's earthquake, Haitians would have already rebuilt their country and thrown a city-wide party this past weekend. Still, their needs will change in the coming weeks and months, so I'll keep the Red Cross link posted at the top. If you've been fortunate to find extra money or you're being blessed with a tax refund, a few extra dollars donated to the Red Cross or any of the other organizations who are trying to help will still go a long way.
The slowly growing rays of sunshine seem to be piercing even the darkest clouds in our nation's capitol. The President chatted with the press earlier today about his meeting with Legislators from both major parties to see what sorts of bills could be crafted to provide more help to those in need of a job and businesses who may want to hire but think they cannot afford to do so. I'm a little hazy on when, if at all, President GW Bush had done the same sort of thing in the last couple of years of his presidency. So, even if only a couple of things are worked out this week creating even the smallest movement forward toward recovery, it won't be due to a lack of effort to get both sides to work together by the President.
For liberals like me and, I'm sure, a health number of conservatives, the changes aren't coming often and fast enough. As much as I'd like to think one post written on one blog would be all that's needed to make everything come together, I'm a bit more realistic about those chances.
Then again, to get the strongest looking rainbow, you need a hard rain, dark cloudy skies on one side and bright sunlight on the other.
So much to chew over. Let me start by giving a couple of sentences to another unique way where folks can help people in need in Haiti.
I've had a link off to the left to the Grameen Foundation for a while. Grameen has a presence in Haiti through a group called Fonkoze. In a post on their website today, there was
a grant recently made to Fonkoze to operate a "mobile bank branch" which will meet bank members wherever they are in Haiti. Fonkoze, like Grameen and other microfinance group, is a bank. Loans are given to the poor based on a skill they have to manufacture and sell something and/or provide a service to others. Borrowers are charged interest and are given a plan to pay back the loan with interest as long as they are willing to work with other borrowers in a peer-support system. They keep the profit they make and are invited to open savings accounts with Fonkoze, etc.
As long as people are thirsty, hungry and in need of medical care and shelter, donations to organizations that provide this service will be needed. The long-term challenge is to support the work done by groups like Fonkoze who, instead of fostering dependence on aid, are raising the poor up from desperate poverty and giving them and their children to rebuild their nation bit by bit. While grants may be needed for one-time programs and to grow new branches, the branches support themselves after just a couple of years.
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I'm writing and watching MSNBC's "President's Question Time" special with President Obama answering questions asked from Republican legislators. What's nice about it is that the question and answer is about 95% unedited so that one can watch this event, unique to the U.S, in bite-sized pieces. The "no teleprompter for the President" aspect is just wonderful! It was nice to see him speak off the cuff and I'm looking forward to more of that. I don't know if what happened in Baltimore today is the start of something we'll see every couple of months, but what a fresh way to approach the whole "politics versus the facts" thing that MSNBC and Fox News spend hours a day, Monday-Friday, chewing over and pontificating.
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Finally, a few folks in California moved one step closer to doing something that will, no doubt, start a snowball of controversy. Nearly 700,000 signatures were collected and around 143,000 of those delivered to the Los Angeles County Registrar's office in Norwalk to add a proposition to the November 2010 ballot to legalize personal possession of up to one ounce of marijuana by those age 21 and older, permit those 21 and older to grow enough marijuana for personal use and "..would also allow cities and counties to permit marijuana to be grown and sold, and to impose taxes on (sales of marijuana)".
This isn't just a few thousand stoners in a state with 36 million residents trying to get their habit legitimized. While the amount of money raised to campaign for this proposition so far isn't jaw dropping, it's not just as much money those same stoners found under the sofa cushions. While the case for medicinal use of marijuana has been made by those with something to gain, the city of L.A. has been trying to reign in the proliferation of cannabis clubs recently. Delivery of these signatures is a bit out there in contrast to the relatively modest moves in the state to carry out medicinal use of cannabis. On the other hand, I can take a quick stroll at lunchtime and pass two such clubs within a couple of blocks of each other (see the photo above for a sign for one such club -- the green cross with caduceus). These clubs aren't just in the funkier neighborhoods in LA County, either.
I don't use marijuana. Yes, there is a fairly liberal gay person in California that doesn't use the stuff. On the first smell I took of the smoke I was turned off and haven't found a reason to be turned on to it since. That said, if marijuana is regulated, used privately and penalties for impaired driving, use while at work, etc., are as strong as drunk driving, being drunk at work, etc., then any health concerns just go out the window for me.
What makes this proposition likely to succeed? If the backers have enough sense about this, it'll become about money. Money to be made by growers, retailers and, as tax collector on every sale of the weed, the state government. For all three groups, the promise of legitimate profits/revenue to be made may prove too irresistible to vote down.
This Wednesday will be President Obama's first State of the Union address. For a politics geek like me, it's like a championship game or an awards show night. While there is still a lack of fashion critique and entry to the big auditorium softball interviewing, there are plenty of experts on both teams with all sorts of predictions about the final outcome of Wednesday's address.
Though, as of this writing, I haven't found any posting of opinion just yet. So, I'll take a crack at it.
Saying that the phrase "The state of our union is strong" will be uttered is a bit like saying "the stars are out" at the latest Hollywood love-fest or at my house while I'm watching the "arrivals" part of the awards show.
Yeah, even I see the 60 degree head swivel the President usually does when he's giving a speech. It's like noticing when someone drops the phrase "you know" into their everyday speech and you've finally discerned it and now "you know" sounds like nails on a chalkboard. If I had my choice of speechgiving off the top of one's head or reading a speech from a Teleprompter in a clear, melodic tone of voice, I'll take the Teleprompter reading. Still, the best sort of speech is the one that comes from the head with bits of improv dropped in so it sounds organized and just a bit personal. I've given improv'd and read aloud speeches and usually feel like I'm only giving half the effort. This address is a big one -- even I would be pacing, memorizing and rehearsing this one as often as humanly possible weeks ahead of time.
These addresses are usually by the book. In recent years, it's a bit difficult to tell the difference between them and getting an OMG moment out of them is highly unlikely. Same can be said of award shows and championship games. Even the notion of turning the SOTU into a drinking game is getting a bit cliche. Still, even one such game suggested for Wednesday's address might be worth a try. For us 12-steppers, perhaps substituting jalapeño poppers and a sip of milk for each drink will lead all to the same, dreadful conclusion.
I would have been stunned if Obama was able to have pulled off a total recovery of the economy and have ended both wars by now. However, I'm quite worn out by the light touch he has exercised over Congress this past year. While I love a good work relationship with colleagues, he's been apart from his former Senate colleagues long enough that he can now start to be the goal-setter, take more responsibility for setting the legislative tone and navigate progressives/liberals toward having a truly progressive/liberal government.
For now, a healthy amount of skepticism is required to get some kind of grasp of what's going on in D.C. these days. A little music helps, too. I heard this version of the song earlier today on "Feel The Spin" as I was driving home from church. Yeah, there are club versions of this song out there, but it was nice to hear real drums and guitar backing a talented girl singer. I know she's singing about a guy, but I couldn't help hearing the lyric and thinking about how it relates to the upcoming week's world of U.S. politics.
The mark of good art is that it means something different to everyone who experiences it. Enjoy!
It's not rock salt or my personal stash of diamonds cubic zirconia strewn on the ground and photographed at night for maximum visual effect. I "got lucky" being in LaHabra for a haircut earlier this evening when a teeny, tiny yet strong cell of heavy rain/lightning/thunder passed by and created a small hailstorm. I'm having so much fun documenting the wacky state of weather in Southern California, I'm almost forgetting all about the state of politics in the Supreme Court, the Congress and the White House.
It was just odd. Perhaps the Nobel folks, going forward, will offer an "opt out" to their winners, should the winner not feel deserving of the medal, prize money, honor, etc.? I can't even find a matching set of circumstances in my own life so that I can at least say something like "I understand, to some degree, why things happened the way they did".
I cannot even find words to talk about the legislative situation in Uganda. Besides, Rachel Maddow tied it all up nicely earlier this week by having on her show a man who, indirectly, led to what looks like legislation through proselytising. And, this guy looks like he's getting all the validation he was seeking through all of this.
I can't find the words. But, if it comes to it, I'll do what I can to find room to harbor as many refugees as this law will create. And, barring something miraculous happening, the law is all but assured to pass. If I am able to do what I've just written, then I couldn't say a word to anyone about what I'm doing. I wish I was being hyperbolic.
My apologies for the long break in between postings. With the ebbing and flowing of politics in Washington D.C over health insurance reform and everyone with an educated opinion (and some without) guessing how the Bill will look and whether or not it will pass through Congress, it's a bit easier to just find a nice large piece of driftwood and watch the show.
It's virtually impossible to let a day go by without health on anyone's mind. I am certainly no exception.
One of my employers was kind enough to extend to me an immunization shot for Influenza A & B early last month. Even with this precaution, I managed to still pick up an intestinal virus this past weekend that had me .. uh .. occupied .. for much of this past week. Even as I type this, some of the muscles in my legs were weakened enough that I've had to walk with a cane for the first time in my life. Blessedly, as each day passes, my strength returns.
My employer gave me the paid time off so that I could rest. I have health insurance so I could see the doctor who could figure out what was wrong with me and give me the go-ahead to indulge in a sugary sports drink to rehydrate. Then, with the prescription benefit I have with my employer, I was able to get some anti-nausea medication and recuperate my waning appetite.
Too many of us in this country are not as fortunate as I am. Whether the legislation in the works will give more of us access to the kind of coverage I have is out of my hands.
Here is what I can do:
A week from Tuesday is World AIDS Day. Remembrances, red ribbons and other events are planned for that day and an event near you may be listed by clicking here. (dates are listed European style, meaning day/month/year). I will be at this memorial service:
Service starts at 7 pm. Please bring a photo of someone who has died from AIDS and/or who is battling with this disease and has inspired you.
No matter whether people gather at a place of worship, a community center and/or process through their town holding lit candles, there is no observance too small to make a difference to someone. With few exceptions, I am at a World AIDS Day services/marches/observance each year. Unlike most my age, I have only lost person I loved to AIDS. Like most who are younger than me, I know so many more friends who live with the virus every day and stories of survival with HIV of 10, 15 or even more than 20 years are becoming the norm.
Though my loss came at a time when AIDS was a "death sentence", December 1st brings the feelings up as if it just happened. It helps me to be with others who know how this feels and maybe provides some comfort to someone else there.
If I am fortunate to live long enough and we are smart and hard working enough, I look forward to the day when World AIDS days are mentioned in history books.
Until then, I hope to see you on Tuesday, December 1.
