I Like Mornings.

I get up in the morning long before dawn, around 3:45am each day.  Maybe a little earlier if I've not played whack a mole with my alarm clock; I sometimes forget to set it to radio rather than buzzer.  A klaxon blaring is not the most gentle of nudges. I would not do well on the Galactica.

I rise groggily and glance at my phone.  Any new messages? I yawn (and scratch) and plead with my coffee maker to brew faster. I should set the timer to finish earlier but the aroma is best while it's brewing. Clock is ticking. Brew faster! I'll clean you with vinegar tonight, I promise.  I mean it this time, not like last time.  Ugh.  Too slow.  I'll end up stealing a little coffee before Mr. Coffee has fully completed his task.  Why I am wearing only one sock?

I do my morning chores so everything is ready while I'm at work, then I shower, shave and pour another cup of coffee.  The television is relaying bad news in some part of the world.  Where is Bago? Oh yeah, Burma.  I mean Myanmar. I'm still not awake yet.

Then I sit at the computer for a few minutes.  Last chance for my own time before I dedicate the day to my many, many other preparations.  Any new messages? I check Facebook, nothing new.  I check my email and sort thru the reminders I've mailed myself.  Meeting at 10am. I'll need to review that file again.  Maybe I'll find my other sock in the folder.

Now to Twitter; I've saved the best for last.  Who said what? I have new mentions! The strangest thing is the people I talk to the most, I rarely see.   Some I've in fact never seen but I know about their lives, their children, their health. Some I worry about, some I worry for and send best wishes to.  There are those that make me mad, those that make me laugh and those I find more in common with than I have in years. If Twitter had a physical location, I envision it like a roadside cafe.  People come in and out quickly; some are from far away, others are close and some stay awhile to chat.  There's always at least one familiar face nearby and nobody cares how different you are or whether you've shown up in your pajamas.

We all just want to listen and to be heard.

I enjoy my mornings.

Rewriting the Wrong

“You have to know the past to understand the present.” - Dr. Carl Sagan

Evidently Dr. Sagan was incorrect; we don't need to know the past, we can just rewrite it. Again and again to suit our needs.  The classic novel Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain is undergoing a retrofit, they're replacing all references to the 'n' word to make it more accessible to the 21st Century.  The publisher is calling it an update; we used to call that "new wine in an old wineskin."

I'm not nor would I ever defend using that word, its offensiveness cannot be properly measured in today's context.  It is a word of hate with an edge meant only to slice away ones humanity. However to revise a work without the author's permission is censorship. I'm not sure how others feel about a revisionist practice but I'm afraid of what's next? Many classrooms already skip the nation's founding fathers because they were slaveholders. It's the ugly truth, but they were.  There are many instances in our nation's history that we wish didn't happen but turning a blind eye won't erase the occurrences.  We have to own our baggage, we can't pick and choose.

I may be off base but when you disregard history because it's embarrassing or uncomfortable, you do a disservice to those who struggled for justice in a time when little was to be found. If we don't remember the pain, how are we to remember those who endured it? If we do not embrace our past failures, how then are we to measure our success?

Thank you for taking the time to read.