Let’s see . . .

1. Senator Grassley taught us what its like to sneer in the face of honesty, by playing the “fly in the ointment” game on his unaware fellow senators. Apparently integrity and good work ethics isn’t everything.

One thing that still puzzles me though. If he, as he claims, “stuck his finger in the dike,” wouldn’t that indicate a slow and methodical trickle was taking place (slow and steady progress) rather than the deluge (rushing health care reform on America) the Republicans claim is going on?

2. It’s typically American to scream in outrage over the assassination of Grandma without actually calling Grandma to find out she’s alright and comfortably at home enjoying her government run Medicare.

3. We are now the “What if” generation.

Cheney’s paranoia over “what if” the terrorists may someday get nuclear weapons of mass destruction; to “what if” President Obama is secretly plotting, in spite of everything he stands for, all he’s now telling us, and all the campaign promises he’s fulfilled already, to bring down America; to “what if” the census, after all these years, will now be used to round up people into concentration camps.

Here’s another one: “What if” everyone just waited to see how things turn out before jumping on the bandwagons of these right wing extremists who know how to push our buttons.

I have a feeling the volcano laying dormant under Yellowstone Park has a better chance of getting us all than any of these other things occur.

4. Americans have short-term memory loss.

Let me give you a recall. The government, during the Bush administration was listening in to your phone conversations, reading your emails, watching the websites you browsed, usurped the Constitution, lied to us, fed the corporations our hard earned money, and ruined our collective reputation by torturing people.

And that’s just what we know about.

So all in all it was a very revealing week!

Technorati Tags: America, health care reform, paranoia, politics

About twenty years ago, I lived next door to a family with a young man named Jim who had Down Syndrome. He was a remarkable guy, very loving, extremely outgoing, who would brighten the day of many a stranger whom he happened to meet. But he had one special gift that I haven’t seen in too many people. He could channel the Six Million Dollar Man whenever there was something physical to do.

You could see it coming! He would suddenly go into slow motion mode as his face grew determined.

Then the sound . . .

Che, che, che, che, he would mouth the sound effects when Steve Austin was about to leap a tall building, or lift a car off a hapless motorist, or fling a bad guy across a room.

When he’d finish the task at hand, he’d look up at any onlookers and start to giggle. We’d all giggle back at him and congratulate him for a job well done. He was very proud of his ability.

Then one day he was invited to participate in the Special Olympics, and his parents jumped on the opportunity. From the moment he was told, he became an athlete and began all sort of preparations. We set up a broad jump area in the back yard, and he would practice for hours (unless he was distracted by a potential conversation, or a snack invite).

Just his enthusiasm was inspiring. “Two weeks, fourteen more days!!” he would say with a giggle.

“Are you nervous, Jim?” I’d ask.

“Nah,” he’d reply. “Bionics!” he’d squeeze a muscle on his arm to show me.

The day finally arrived for Jim to go to the Special Olympics. I think we were all more nervous about it than he was, but then again, we didn’t have his ability.

The scene was festive with hundreds of young people participating. Jim patiently waited his turn at the broad jump while applauding and giggling for every other athlete who went before him. I watched the absolute glee on his face. He was participating in the biggest event of his life, and he knew it.

Suddenly his name was called over the PA system. “Oh, oh, Jim that’s you,” said his mom leading him to the broad jump pit. His dad just smiled the smile of a proud father.

Now we had all practiced with Jim. We told him the “slow motion mode” wouldn’t be a good idea, and we’d gotten him to abandon it during the practice runs. But mom reminded him about it just as he reached the line.

“Don’t worry mom!” he said in an assertive way. It was his moment, and Jim was going do it Jim’s way.

I’m not sure if the crowd hushed down at that moment, or if we were all just so focused on Jim’s performance that we drowned out all other sound. But all of a sudden we heard the channeling begin . . .

“Che, che, che, che.”

I couldn’t tell you how long the run was, but I can say it took what seemed an eternity for Jim to get to the end of it and finally launch out over the sand pit. After all our preparations with him, in the end, Jim and his bionics landed approximately two and half feet into the pit.

His mom raised her hands to her mouth dreading the feeling of defeat that would probably come next. But I looked at Jim and saw nothing of the kind. He stood there, up to his ankles in sand, with a look of the kind of pride you’d see in someone who had just conquered a world record.

I cheered, the crowd cheered, the person running the event cheered. It didn’t matter how far Jim had jumped. He had done it!

Jim got a ribbon that day for his participation in the Special Olympics, but more importantly he got a memory of a day when he was a special hero to us all. He never forgot it, nor will we.

I think back to that day remembering the pride on all the parents’ faces, the exuberance of all the participants, and can’t help feeling grateful that there’s such a thing as the Special Olympics. The world owes a debt of gratitude to Eunice Kennedy Shriver for all the work she did to make this a reality.

It takes a remarkable person to make someone else feel special. Mrs. Shriver did that for countless thousands of people, their parents, and put a smile on just about everyone else’s face.

Technorati Tags: Eunice Kennedy Shriver, Special Olympics

If you were to ask an American what the country and constitution stood for, you’d probably get an immediate response. “Freedom!” But that wouldn’t be an entirely correct answer. You see, freedom is finite. It can be restricted by those who decide what it actually is in any given situation.

Liberty, on the other hand, is an individual’s right to decide for him or herself what freedoms to take advantage of with only the one restriction of not imposing or negating another person’s liberties.

Liberty is “do no harm.” Living one’s life with the capacity for anything so long as it doesn’t step on anyone else.

Freedom can have restrictions, or be limited to a specific event or group like a nation being freed from the clutches of a dictatorship, or a teen reaching the age where certain privileges become available.

Liberty, is about personal choice, and to exist, cannot be restricted.

“Restricted liberty” is not liberty at all, even though it could still be meted out in a Free Country.

So yes, you may have the freedom to tell me what you think I should do, or what system of beliefs I should follow. But I have the liberty to reject your feelings and demands and follow my own.

You then have the liberty to accept my decisions, and vice versa.

However in a society where freedom is prevelant over personal liberties, then the majority feels the superiority in numbers, and so tends to dictate what should be and what shouldn’t be.

And though one swept up in this “movement” might feel the freedom of belonging to a majority, that one should never forget the personal liberties put aside to sign up to it.

Technorati Tags: decisions, do no harm, freedom, liberty