I kid you not.
And my husband, fifteen years a recovering Republican, was horrified.
Any fallout from this?

I was... stunned.

A White Knight?

(as opposed to The Black Knight??)

I'm just sayin'......

I just want ONE DAY where people on both sides of the aisle take a moratorium on uncivilized behavior.
I just want ONE DAY where people don't call names, don't spew hatred, don't react without thinking, don't have to get the last word in...
ONE DAY where we actually listen to the other person instead of thinking about how we're gonna top 'em... "hurry up, hurry up, you idiot, I gotta say xyz now, now, now"
ONE DAY where, just for no reason at all, we gracefully yield, gracefully decide not to take the low road, gracefully decide to breathe and move along.

ONE DAY.
I'm not asking for a month, or a week, or even a weekend.
ONE DAY.
Oh, I am sure somewhere, on some calendar, there's a "Civilized Behavior Day," but the way I feel right now, I can't wait.
Can we go ONE DAY without drama, or scandal, or glee at the other person's mistaken gaffe?
ONE DAY without ridicule being the first words out of our mouths when the other side (and this is for both sides) says something with which we do not agree?
ONE DAY where maybe we turn off the t.v., turn off the constant feed of news, turn off the computer.
ONE DAY where every action by anybody in any government isn't met with an equally vicious reaction and the start of a chain of hate, rumor, innuendo or malicious name calling.

I know, I know. I am naive. But then, I'm not. I taught junior high for 20 years. Everybody needs a day off from nastiness.

I don't mean stop thinking about the issues. I certainly KNOW we have issues to deal with and many sides to those issues and a LOT of passion about those issues -- all of them.
And I feel that passion, too. I want everyone to be passionate. We need to fight the good fight, carry the banner, be a voice for our side (whatever it is).

But I am also getting so tired of the spewing of hatred, or even the small mosquito-bite snipes that go on -- here, out there, out further in DC or in the neighborhood bar.
Could we just put the slings and arrows of outrageousness away for one day? We really do need a break from all the odious energy.

I'll tell you why. Why I am feeling this so keenly right now.

Today I got in the car to head home after school. And so I called my husband, as I often do, to ask if we need anything on my drive from work. We live in a rural area and I like to consolidate trips.

My darling, kind, delightful husband was sobbing on the phone.
Now, I must say, this was OUT OF THE ORDINARY.

He had just been to the local Mission Outreach (not sure if that's the name here but close).
It's the end of the year and we are figuring out how much money we have to give to others. He is a retiree from Johnson and Johnson, so every dollar we donate is often matched one-to-one. We have given to the Food Bank, the local public library, and to Keith Olbermann's drive for health clinics.
But recently my husband has been drawn to the Mission. He's taken lots of our stuff from the garage for their thrift store. He's brought them food that the ski resort is throwing out (for no reason but somebody didn't like it). Yesterday, he recovered six huge cartons (asked permission first btw) and delivered this perfectly edible food to the Mission.

Today, my darling husband went to ask about giving a donation. What did they need? How many people were the feeding every day? How did Thanksgiving go?
Those kinds of questions.
And for the first time, after all his visits, the lady in charge said, "Come with me."
And they went down to the basement.
The basement where they serve the homeless vets. HOMELESS VETS.
Men with no limbs. Men in tattered clothes. Men on their last bit of hope.

Yes, long before we married, my husband was a corporate guy and had been so for most of his life, voting conservatively, and working his butt off and thinking that was the American Way.
Then, he met me.
And I made him read, read, read. And think and think and think. And work for a few campaigns. And he's evolved.

But today... his heart was broken. He was sobbing.
I said, "What do you want to do?" Because I think he wants to DO something more than just donate.
Well, he did write them a check on the spot for the deficit they have at the moment.

But he can't quit crying.

This is his 1960's. He finally gets it. This is his candlelight vigil. His moment of awareness.
He's 70 years old.
And he meets it not with anger, but with tears.

So today... I just want ONE DAY where we don't hate each other.
I know you will say, but we don't, not here.

Have you actually read some of these posts lately? Even the ones who are trying to be funny or sarcastic, are actually mean and nasty and passive aggressive.
Hey,and why not? Post away, flame, call names, mentally beat each other to a pulp.
Free speech, free ideas, lots of debate. Okay!

But... Could we just stop for ONE DAY.

Because down in the basement, where we hide the stuff we don't want to see, men who fought for this country are sitting in the dark.
And women and children. And it's not that I didn't know. Hell, I've been one of those long ago before I met my husband.
And let's not start arguing about how the vets or women or children got to this point, or whose fault it is and how pissed we are and.... see? We'll be back at it again.
Not that we shouldn't be. When my 24 hours is up.... I'm gonna be darn mad. And even if I'm not. Even if I am as passionate and civilized as we Vermonters are....
I still intend to take action.

BUT... I still want ONE DAY.
Just ONE DAY without blaming and pointing fingers and ranting and raving.
I'm not saying we don't have reason or we don't have passion or we don't have righteousness on our side (even as the other side thinks the same).

Could we just quit sniping at each other for ONE DAY. Even if it's just here at DU. Or even if you have to sleep all day or something to keep from snarking.

I'm just sayin'... without it having to be some holiday or feast day or saints day or special day... could it just be ONE DAY... that we stop being unkind, mean, vindictive, pissed off, upset, disappointed... I mean, feel those feelings but maybe not toss 'em in somebody's face for one day.

Just ONE DAY.

You can pick your own day.

For me, my 24 hours (and my ramblin' rant free zone) starts now..

Thunderstorms forced us down at an airport where the airline did not have "privileges" so we sat on the tarmac for several hours.
Finally, after watching just about every movie they had on board (at the time the movies were for fee in all but first class so they had several movies), and running out of snacks and drinks (again, they had meal service then), they negotiated for a limited number of passengers at a time to get off to use the facilities and phones (no cell phones then... I think it was 1991).
Once the storm was over and it was very late, they herded us all back into the plane and we went to another airport. We arrived at about 2 a.m. and queued up for vouchers and morning flights.
Of course, with a group, I didn't get any help. They ran out of hotel vouchers, but gave us each one of those little blue pillows and a blue "blanket" and let us sleep on the floor. I didn't get much sleep, since all my charges were girls sleeping on the floor in an unknown airport. We were supposed to be out on the first morning flight they could find. Yeah, at 3 a.m. the guy told me it was all set. He didn't even give me breakfast vouchers because we wouldn't be there when the food places opened... we'd be gone

Yeah, right. We trooped our way through the airport and lined up for the flight only to find that we had NO reservations. OMG... back to the customer service desk at the originating airline and by now I'm not a happy camper and neither all the girls, who have now been traveling from Rome to NYC to the midwest -- probably awake for more than 24 hours. And hungry and GRUMPY.

Needless to say, we had no idea where our luggage was ..... not to mention LOTS of freaked out parents in San Diego when we didn't arrive TWICE.

They did give us vouchers for meals and they did get us on a flight... all of us on the same flight, but it was later that afternoon.

I think if they had let us out of the plane at the first stop during the storm we might have fared better and been more prepared, mentally and physically, for all the crap that came after that.
But...

Back in Rome, one of the girls had said, "I never want this trip to end." To which I said later, "Watch out...you might get what you wish for..."

A left-leaning, informed pooch.
My dog, Casou, is a Coton de Tulear.
Has hair, not fur, so he's non-allergenic.
He's a companion. Loves to play, walk, run. Is not hyper. Rarely barks.
Loves road trips.

And as you can tell, has GREAT viewing habits:

"You guys say that every election"

He gets that gleam in his eye -- that rabid, Rush/Coulter/Hannity gleam -- "Gotcha!"

But I stick to my guns. I am not going to some meek corner to lick my "it's a free country, I'll just shut up now" wounds.

Not this time. Not this election. Not even for the fake peace of my family dinner table.

My answer is YES!, every election -- the last 2 and this one -- has been THE MOST IMPORTANT ELECTION OF OUR TIME.

Why?
Look around at what is happening ...what has happened. And I could have played the "if" game, but I didn't need to do that.

A laundry list of death and destruction followed -- from natural disasters to banking to credit to homes to jobs to health care to food safety to product safety to education to justice to poverty to trade....

What could he say? He begins to call me names. Me. A sister he has known all his life. And all he has is the same tired OLD Republican talking points. They go on as if we, Democrats, are all still unemployed welfare hippies sitting in the park chanting about Nixon and smoking dope.

But he knows. KNOWS. That I have worked since I was sixteen. That I put myself through three degrees of college education. That I was a single mother. That I ruled out a "high power job" in the private sector for twenty years in trenches of public education. That I'm NOT that stereotype. HE KNOWS THIS.

But still he calls me names. Quitter. Traitor. Terrorist lover. Tax and spend. Big government.

I look at him, sadly, I think. I suppose I must have looked at him in that pathetic "you guys point the finger and it all comes back on you" face. That junior high teacher face. Yeah, I do that. But he's still in junior high -- at least with the name calling.

He says, oh yeah -- you're gonna enlighten the world -- it's all up to you -- you know better -- you have all the answers. Liberal elitist.

We both grew up in the same home -- 3 bedrooms for six kids and two parents. Mom a nurse; dad a teacher. Middle class all the way. Whatever we both have we have worked hard for -- he knows this. Elitist?

Name calling. Head in the sand. The delete button. It's all he's got. He knows nothing else. No - I take that back.
He doesn't WANT to know anything else. IT'S ABOUT FEAR. If he's been wrong all this time...he's not a "man."
Republicans are nothing if not good soldiers.
He listens to those talking points and he falls in line. That IS what they can do very well. They can follow.

But, I point out, what you have sorely lacked is a leader. Bush? Product of those last two elections? What do you like about Bush? Silence.

Which is why we get back to that -- THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT ELECTION OF OUR TIME.

If we do not change direction now... if we don't find a transformational leader -- who will inspire followers to join and change with the nation and the world -- then the death and destruction will ripple across this land in ways we never could imagine.

But when I say this, with the love of a sister, he sneers. "I'll be proud to have John McCain as my president."

I stopped. I wanted to talk issues and I could see a bunch of crap coming my way. He's too far gone.

I told him he had ceased to be anyone I would want to know or be related to.
Sad, but true.

And this is the metaphor for all of us.

I believe in two paths -- love and fear. Every action is a choice between those two. Love and fear cannot stand in the same place.

It's not that I don't love my brother, but enough of that knee-jerk fear and hatred and lashing out.

We must stand in the face of their fear and chose love.

I love my country. I love more than the flag and the land and the people. I love what we believe in and who we are when we are at our best.
I love my country.

This is the MOST important election of our time.

1) when or if the words "Keating Five" were ever going to be uttered?

OR

2) Do you think he's sitting at the bar right now with Rudy and Don muttering into his beer,

"Damn! Missed it by that much!"

Take care.
We love you.
We're thinking of you.

This family is a "class act" and we need to support them in their time of need.
Thank you, Joe and Jill, for all you do for us.

That's absurd.

On what planet do you reside?
I've known a lot of pastors/priests receiving gifts from the parish -- trips, cars, appliances.
These ministers/pastors/priests aren't elected officials -- they're revered members of a community -- elders, still visible mentors.
They don't disappear. Most usually stay at the last parish; some even have houses built near the rectory or nearby.


Unless we have been a member of Trinity, we have no idea about Reverend Wright.
I doubt he could have been a pastor for as long as he served and been perceived as the Hannity Clip Crowd fingered him.

I'm constantly shaking my head at the dimwitted diversions played out in the media, and HERE.

Geez..... last time I looked at the LAW, guilt by association wasn't even LOGICAL.

rapid gunfire from the Foley "Scandal"....

Geez.
Surprise.
Surprise.

We can only HOPE that the Dems change the make up of the House and oooooh sooooo many investigations can begin.

BUT... with so much to lose, do you really think these elections will be FAIR?

Muuuuuuuaaaaaaawwwwww... not so fast, Mr. Democracy.
Where you goin' with that White Hat and Star?

Yeah, I think we're all facing our own High Noon.
I, for one, am staying for the fight.

Keith Olbermann (in his recent appeal for a Presidential apology) finds solace in the ideas of Voltaire and the words of Jefferson, and I wholeheartedly agree.

I offer also a look at Patrick Henry's famous "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" speech of March 23, 1775.

Revisiting the words of our revered PATRIOTS should give pause to each and every one of us. For what truly is a PATRIOT?

When one side of the aisle holds the definition of PATRIOT to its breast, claiming sole ownership of said title while thumping and beating that breast, and with gnarly pointed fingers at the other side of the aisle, wildly claims the opposition not merely unpatriotic, but treasonous, we must, indeed, protest.

Patrick Henry said, "Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings."

Ah. Holding one's tongue, holding one's dissidence -- the true definition of treason.

He continues with ideas that, if we extrapolate to our current national crises, employ an urgent rally cry to those who would be cowed into silence.

Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the numbers of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth, to know the worst, and to provide for it.

Yes, I have hoped this national tragedy would melt away, dissolve, vanish without my having to do much about it. I would wave my flag, vote, protest along a highway, walk in a silent vigil, and all would be well. I would pray the majority of Americans become enlightened, wake up to the loss of their rights, become emboldened to act as myriad lies were unmasked.

Have I been unwise? I am very willing to know the whole truth.
Experience.

Patrick Henry continues. I would have you, dear reader, exchange "the Bush administration for the past six years" in the appropriate place:

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received?

Ah, the insidious smile. The "chimp" smile. We know it well. We have seen that smile in numerous places, most recently in angry disagreement with those who would wrest power from his grasp -- the issue of torture, wiretapping, dissolution of the Bill of Rights -- all under guise of "freedom."

Trust it not! Dire warning from the past, from our founding PATRIOTS.

Here again, Patrick Henry:

Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort.

And might we compare the methods of torture, of imprisonment, secret trials, armed guards in airports -- to the time before the American revolution? I am sure we can search our souls and find the place where we have recently feared our own government. Blackmail, smears, swiftboating, vote-stealing -- the list of implements is long and reflects the arguments, ney the tools of the boy who would be king.

And Patrick Henry continues...

I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years.

Yes, these methods -- torture, wiretapping, secret trials -- if these are for "our enemies," might these be soon enough for us, for those who oppose these would-be kings? I am sure we have all been considering that very idea, that very chill down our spines these days.

But still, we hope reason will win. We hope. We speak softly. We know in our hearts that we are right. We know that what we say and do is what a true patriot would do -- fight for the freedom of the press, of assembly, of redress or petition. We know that the courts need to remain unbiased, that church and state needs to remain as separate as possible. We speak out and what happens?

Patrick Henry continues:
Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation.


Now, the PATRIOT, Patrick Henry moved for war against his king, calling himself and his fellow PATRIOTS fully justified,. Having come to the virtual end of the rope, he asserted his right to swing at the end of same rope, in the name of freedom. Not just his right, but his duty to do so.

I'm not saying that we will come to this. I don't envision that type of end.
I envision each of us steeling our hearts and making a supreme effort to overcome this foul stench of despotism and RALLY THE FORCES OF DISSIDISM.

Take back the House. Take back the Senate.
That is our "war" -- as implored by Patrick Henry -- we must FIGHT.
And we are PATRIOTS when we do this.
We are PATRIOTS when we speak out.
We are PATRIOTS when we tell the truth.

He says it all here:
There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free--if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us! They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength but irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.

And I repeat, I surely do:
If we wish to be free--if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight!

Our privileges are slipping away. Our rights.
Our fundamental right to Free Speech is being questioned.
Our right to Free Speech hijacked.

When we cannot stand in line to hear the President of the United States because we wear a t-shirt...
When we cannot walk into a courtroom because we wear a t-shirt.
When we cannot attend a session of Congress because we wear a t-shirt.
When agents of our government -- the government for whom my great-grandfather, my grandfather, and my father fought -- scan the parking lots for bumper stickers, we are in prison; we have no freedom for which to further fight
When the President of the United States says that we who disagree, we who dissent, aid the enemy, therefore are treasonous, we have lost our rights. Gone, gone, gone.

I submit that Patrick Henry, a true and original PATRIOT, would have been on OUR SIDE of the aisle.

He finishes:
It is in vain, sir, to extentuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace--but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

Yes, our brethren are in the field.
They have been called Daniel Ellsberg, Cindy Sheehan, John Murtha.
They have been called whistleblowers, peaceniks, protesters, and treasonous.

They are PATRIOTS.
And so are we.
We who cannot stand idle, we who cannot be purchased, need to fight.

I commend Keith Olbermann for fighting.
He is being called every name in the book.

I call him a PATRICK HENRY PATRIOT.

This morning, from Poynter Online http://www.poynter.org/column.asp?id=2
and WP http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/conte...


HIPAA Hype

Three years after the federal government imposed new regulations that allegedly protect patients' private medical information, The Washington Post says the government has not imposed one single fine and has prosecuted only two cases. And it is not for a lack of complaints -- there were 19,420. The Post story said:

"The law was put in place to give people some confidence that when they talk to their doctor or file a claim with their insurance company, that information isn't going to be used against them," said Janlori Goldman, a health-care privacy expert at Columbia University. "They have done almost nothing to enforce the law or make sure people are taking it seriously. I think we're dangerously close to having a law that is essentially meaningless."

HIPAA has been a nightmare for journalists, who have been blocked from all sorts of information about traffic accidents and crime victims, for instance. The Associated Press recently pointed out:

HIPAA requires hospitals to ask patients whether they wish to have information disclosed to the public. If the patient says no, the hospital can't give out information such as the traditional short condition descriptions "good" or "serious," or even say whether the person is in the hospital, dead and in the morgue, or transferred to a specialized hospital.

"That's not very satisfying for readers if they don't know whether their neighbor or the person they know from Rotary is alive, dead or what," said Mark Furman, editor of the Baker City Herald.

Furman noted ways around the roadblock: If the hospital won't release information, a reporter can call family members, for instance. But, Furman asks, "Are we invading their privacy more by knocking on their doors?"

If a patient, unconscious or mentally ill, can't make a decision, medical personnel can make one in the patient's best interest, and hospital officials say they will generally make a conservative decision not to release information.

Here are some more resources for you:

A Journalist's Guide to HIPAA from RTNDA
Association of Health Care Journalists HIPAA guide
The Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press story collection
Investigative Reporters & Editors' HIPAA summary

... the early Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich
#1 - #2 - and #3 which is my personal fav.... I nearly wet my pants on a plane -- I got to giggling and couldn't get down the aisle to the rest room, and when I did, I had to wait. So, the flight attendant and I began to talk about the books --- she also loved them

I think Evanovich has just cranked 'em out of late. We're onto #11 this summer. I'll see. I'm always willing to give her the benefit of the doubt since she's made me laugh so much.

But the line that leads to it is great, and I don't have a copy of the book.

Prince of Tides
Conroy

I am not much of a mystery reader.
I fell for the people in the books -- Inspector Lynley and his struggles; his police partner, Barbara and her major struggles.

What intrigued me was the sprinkling of personal story mixed with the mystery in each novel. I had to keep reading to find out what would happen with Lynley. Now I'm worried about Barbara and hope to find out more about her life. I hope the stories continue.

I read 8 of 10 in a very short period. Now I have the latest and an old paperback left to savor. Sometimes I do that -- whip right through a series and hold back when I have only one book left.

PBS has made a few of these into decent spots for Mystery Theatre and are available on dvd (I checked them out at the public library, which btw ours now are "free" -- tres cool that).

Helprin's A Soldier in the Great War; A Tale of Two Cities; ...and how can I make a list?
I sooo love books!