To the Courageous:
I cannot pretend to fathom what it is to live your life. The only corruption and injustices I have personally faced have been minor to say the least (examples: a University President threatening to tow my car because he didn’t like my editorial in the college paper, a cop with a bad hair cut taunting me outside traffic court). I do know what personal tragedy and heartbreak and panic is like. I do not know what it is to have those events brought to me by my government.
While I am sometimes disappointed and discouraged and less than thrilled by my government, I am not stifled as a free human being by my government. I complain sometimes and wish things were different. Some turns of policy make me nervous, but I retain my freedoms. I have the voice my forefathers gave me, I get to vote.
While I know what it’s like to stand up for what you believe in and protest your beliefs, I do not know what it’s like to face being shot for doing so.
I don’t know what to do in my selfish little life for you. I swell with goose-bump-reeling pride for your strength and drive and purpose. I want you to be successful. I want you to be able to say what you want, I want you to be safe, I want you to be able to live however you want to live. If you want things to stay conservative, I support that. If you want to be edgy and a bit radical, I support that.
I want everyone in this world to be able to walk down the street dressed to express himself, exercising her beliefs, filled with so many freedoms and inalienable rights it feels gluttonous.
When you have as many freedoms as I was born into, it does feel almost willy-nilly. I can do anything I want? Well, I’ll do nothing at all—not even vote. I don’t want that for you, but I want the option. Who am I tell you what to do? Especially when I have not sacrificed for my overwhelming room to breathe. I strongly suspect you will not waste the opportunity.
I am sorry that this comes through struggle and blood. I am sorry it always seems to have to. I am sorry still more than one place in this world is locked in tyranny and opression. I am sorry there is no easy solution.
I hope there is no more waste of life—even from the “bad” side. I hope everyone is able to stay safe, though I am saddened to think this is probably not a reality.
Old, young, men, women: I hold my head high to look at anyone looking for his freedom, fighting for her life in this world.
May you be successful and peaceful soon.
All my respect and love,
1) I wish the pollen count to be down drastically this week. Unlabored breathing would be nice. I don’t think that’s asking too much.
2) I wish the European financial leaders figure some stuff out in their meetings. Then, I hope they hop on a Trans-Atlantic flight and help a country out.
3) I wish somebody will find time and patience to explain to me exactly what is going on in the mind of Ron Artest. I’m sorry: in the mind of Metta World Peace. Like we didn’t already have reason enough to stare at him blankly? In a perfect world, news would also come out that Sarah Palin had also had a one night stand with the baller formerly known as Ron Artest. (By the way, how GREAT is that Glen Rice story?!)
Extra wishes: Can we use a Men in Black mind eraser thingy and go back to when the Redsox were 1.5 games up on the Yankees? And while we’re at it, can the Dodgers get to 500? It would make my Dad happy.
Have a good week, guys and dolls. Play ball! Kisses.