Affordable Healthcare “Hits and Myths”

The affordable health Care Act.  It seems that’s the number one topic this week; everyone is scrambling and screaming about how it’s either the end of the free world or it’s utopia realized.  Stop. Relax and take a deep breath. The world is still spinning and the sun will still rise tomorrow.  

First let me state the facts that everyone seems to be dancing around.  This is a tax, make no mistake.  I wish lawmakers would just have the fortitude to call it a tax.  It’s administered under the Treasury; the cost is in proportion to annual income and under the exchange, is even eligible for tax credits. If they had called it a tax instead of a fee from the beginning, this would have saved a trip to the Supreme Court.  I’m ok with calling it a tax. Why?  The U.S. Constitution, Article I Section 8: “The Congress shall have Power To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States; but all Duties, Imposts and Excises shall be uniform throughout the United States”

Remember that line about the general welfare, because I’m going to revisit that in a paragraph or two.

Secondly, all insurance rates will go up; the most common increase is around 8% and that’s median.  Some will go up considerably more, other less so, but all will go up.  There’s a lot of talk about the 80/20 rule; where the companies have to spend .80 of every dollar to provide better healthcare.  What they don’t mention is how vague the improvements have to be.  For example a company can dedicate that .80 towards R&D, which can offer tax incentives and tax credits, offsetting the cost to neutral. What a deal! And let’s not forget that while those with preexisting conditions cannot be denied insurance, the insurers can charge up to 3x the average premiums with no end in sight.

Now that I’ve gone over the negatives and if you’re still reading this, you likely think I’m against Obamacare.  Not so. I actually support the Affordable Care Act and I offer this as rebuttal.

Affordable healthcare promotes the general welfare. (I told you I’d come back to that.) Pretty simple. We are all one people and if one suffers, we all suffer.
The fact is that people are not going to cease becoming ill, no amount of obstruction or filibustering will change this; we need healthcare reform NOW to provide access to affordable coverage, including preventive care. Today we have swine flu, bird flu, HIV, Hepatitis and TB on the rise, these are transmittable yet the GOP assumes these are not class specific.  There is no disease or chronic condition that will be frightened off by a large bank account.  

The GOP was given every opportunity to participate in creating a universal healthcare bill and conciliatory gestures were repeatedly offered, only to be met with scorn. The arguments were extraordinarily flimsy at best and offered no real alternative, just more obstruction tactics. Personally, I don’t like the mandates and lack of price controls, preferring Medicare expansion but I still congratulate the Democrats for taking the courageous first step. It’s a journey long overdue.

So now the GOP has played the final card in their arsenal; the budgetary shutdown. This behavior is atrocious and a shameful display of ignoring the people who are making life and death decisions about whether to buy food or healthcare. It’s an insult to the people and to the Constitution. If your solution is to rely solely on obstruction, you’re grossly abusing the purpose for which the voter entrusted you to represent their needs. Regardless of your position on reform, at least parents can be assured that their child’s preexisting condition is no longer a factor and that seniors need not fear the Rx donut hole or a lifetime coverage cap. I have several friends who literally owe their lives to being able to obtain affordable healthcare and I would ashamed to tell them “Sorry, I’m against big government”. Reminder GOP, big government includes the EPA, FDA, school integration, The Philadelphia Plan, the 1st increase to Social Security, and a proposed actual minimum living wage.  These were all under Republican administrations. Oh and by the way, so was a proposed universal healthcare by President Nixon, markedly similar to Obamacare. Just saying.

We’re the wealthiest nation yet 49 million people go hungry each day, our veterans sleep under bridges and 45 million have lacked basic healthcare insurance, praying they wouldn’t fall ill. Despite this, we’ve spent so much of our resources not taking care of the needs of the many but of the few. I always say that we may never achieve the Constitution’s preamble of “a more perfect Union” but we shouldn't stop striving for it.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

I'm a caregiver to a parent

So this is “Sincere Saturday” more or less.  I won’t lie; it’s been a rough week, mostly because of my need for personal privacy.  I like my privacy, not because of nefarious purposes but because I’ve had others use my circumstances for other reasons. Anyway to circumvent that issue, here’s something that many people don’t know about me. I don’t tell a lot of people because I tend to be a private person and to be honest, it’s seemed to make some uncomfortable. I’m the primary caregiver to a disabled parent and have been since my early 20’s.  That’s the foremost reason that I don’t attend most conventions or parties, and that I live a relatively quiet life. It’s not an easy task, it’s a great deal of “that’s ok” reassurance and clean ups, and the most difficult part: that of the role reversal from child to parent.

I’m only saying this today because, while I do think there should be pride in being a caregiver, there absolutely shouldn’t be disdain. This week in particular, I’ve had to defend my position professionally and I think that is atrocious. In the past, I’ve endured the “lives in his parent’s basement” jokes (despite that it’s my home and that I pay the bills) and tried to make light, but sometimes it’s hard.  Hard to not take even a day off in decades, hard to shun relationships, hard that you not have to be the parent and hard that knowing despite how much you love that person, that the most fearful thing is that inevitable day when they’ve slipped away. 

There are a thousand and one issues that come with being a caregiver; it’s a lesson in compassion, humility and of honor, because no matter what, you know that you’re doing the right thing. You’re repaying a debt and fulfilling a duty; but how is this different than being a single parent?

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From here on out, I’m very sorry if I do make you uncomfortable in my role as a caregiver, but I do take pride and I will no longer be quiet. Caregivers shouldn’t be ridiculed, but rather respected for what they do.  When you’re old.. when you no longer can care for yourself, what will you think of caregivers?

Thank you for taking the time to read. 

Why I am a fan of the Green Lantern

Why I am a fan of the Green Lantern.

The Green Lantern.  He can’t lift a battleship, or control the weather.  He isn't an alien from another planet, blessed with countless superpowers and he doesn't have unbreakable bones. The Green Lantern can’t stick to walls and doesn't have a personal fortune to dedicate to crime fighting gadgets.  He’s essentially a normal human with an occupation as a space cop, patrolling his beat with a ring.

That’s what makes the Green Lantern unique among all other superheroes. Not to sound all ‘Kill Bill’, but you see unlike Spider-Man or Superman, Aquaman or Thor, the Green Lantern’s superpower is willpower.  He has to believe that his ring will act as a conduit for his imagination and will or it’s useless.  The more he focuses his willpower, the greater the construct and range of abilities.  Superman can have his moments of doubt but as long as the sun burns yellow, he is still Superman with all of his Kryptonian powers at his disposal.  Even when Spiderman is frightened and his web-shooters run dry of webbing, he can still stick to walls, sense danger and lift a Buick. There’s never any fear that their powers will fail them even in the worst of circumstances.

If the Green Lantern is afraid, his ring is powerless to affect anything with the color yellow and if his willpower falters or he questions his own ability, his constructs crumble and he’s defenseless. He has to swear an oath and recharge his ring every 24 hours, reaffirming his loyalty to the Corps and his resolve to fight evil. He’s the only superhero that HAS to live up to his own ideals.

So here it is for a truthful Thursday.  I like Green Lantern because he believes in himself; he has to. No matter how tired he is or wounded or betrayed or spiritually depleted.  He still believes. For my money, that’s what makes him the greatest of heroes.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

Memories are burgle-proof!

I was able to make peace with the theft in realizing as valuable (to me) as the mementos were, they are still just things. Some people don’t have any ‘things’. I’ve a roof over my head and I do not go hungry. And the memories that those lost items represented are still mine and cannot be taken away by anyone. Peace, all.

We Deserve Better

So it's election time once again.  Time to turn in and turn on the rants, the soundbytes, the out of context quotes, the unflattering pictures and the worst case scenarios.  All from commentators, no legitimate journalist  in sight.  I'm a political junkie.  No, correction, a rehabilitated political junkie. I can't stand it anymore. Why? Because the times, they are a-changing.

Look at the campaigns.  Look at your party, left or right and if you've ever had the argument of "the other side just wants the worst for you!" or if you justify mudslinging with "well the other side started it first!" therein lies the problem.  There's no room for moderates anymore. No middle ground and compromise is seen as a weakness.

I'm an independent.  I've pulled the lever for both parties, depending on the issue, the candidate and the general state of the Union.  Some may say that's disloyal to party but the last time I looked, it was about the welfare of our country, not about a single party.

I just despise the single mindedness of the campaigns.  No one is even asking you to vote for them anymore, have you noticed that? It's more or less just another round of "don't vote for my opponent." I want more than that.  We as a country DESERVE more than that. The blood of our service men and women have paid the price for more than that.

There are cries of  "smaller, less intrusive government!".... but not when it comes to marrying the person you love. How much more intrusive can a government be?? (I'm of course speaking of same sex marriage.) What the heck, live is hard. It's cold and brutal, the government has absolutely no place to dictate or define love. This flies directly in the face of the pursuit of happiness, not just mentioned but GUARANTEED by the U.S. Constitution. And the government restricting access to planned parenthood? Here's the lowdown, dear readers.  Planned Parenthood does more than abortions; they're the last bastion of quality healthcare for women with no other financial alternatives.  And if you think promoting safe sex equates to abstinence? You obviously don't remember your teen years.  The wind, sunshine, clouds and or the moon was enough to get the mind thinking about sex.

There are cries of "help the poor!" but not a SINGLE candidate on either side has mentioned the plight of families in Appalachia; families caught so deeply in the crushing circle of poverty that generation after generation has been forced to settle for living conditions that the middle class wouldn't tolerate for a weekend. I'm all for tax incentives for getting older cars off of the road for cleaner air, but how about running water for those in need? How about funding our food banks or better yet, getting rid of the NEED for them. I'm a huge proponent of military spending; I want our troops safe and the best equipped in the world. I can also show you how those contracts equate to civilian jobs and actually boosts the economy.  I'm just saying that one less stealth bomber could fund the food banks of West Virginia, without civilian donations, for two years.

We are still the leaders in the world in things. Only now it's buying things instead of making them. iPads, luxury cars. We measure our importance in square footage and tax brackets.  We have the military might to crack the planet in half a thousand times over but our veterans sleep under bridges.  Our children go to school not for learning but because it's their only hot meal in a day. We still have people forced to choose between healthcare and food on their table.

We can do better. We have to do better. I'm not telling you to vote left or right; just vote. Scream to your local and state representation.  Make them put the unsavory issues on the table; that's how solutions are found. The easy path is easy because it's been done. The hard path is rocky because no one has taken it for so long; but at the end of that path is where I want to be.  I want to say, "I mattered somewhere. I fought for SOMETHING."

I'm sorry. Late night dealing with numbers and thoughts just poured out.

Good night dear reader. As always, thank you for taking the time to read.

A steward of the land and of life

It's been awhile since I've blogged, busy with life in general but I'm dusting off the blog tonight.

Today is October 5th; my grandfather has been gone 12 years today and yet not a day in that time has gone by without me thinking of him. Sometimes briefly, sometimes deeply, often with regret but always fondly.

I'm writing this blog entry more for myself than anyone, so I will take no offense if you choose to move on to more entertaining and well written blogs.  If you do continue to read, I will try my best to tell you the tale of farmer's son.

My grandfather had twelve siblings as was not extraordinary for the period or the place, the land was big and hands were needed to till the soil.  Sadly he lost most of his family during the influenza outbreak; I think that's what instilled within him the need to care for others as an adult. Despite hardship and pain in his life, he remained a family rock; even when burying a his first grandchild in tragedy and later a daughter through illness.

He was not formally educated, but brilliant in his own way.  A funny anecdote: The University of Arkansas' head of the horticulture department twice approached him, wanting to know why this lone sharecropper produced twice the cotton yield as his neighbors, who had hired hands and larger acreage. My grandfather couldn't tell him anything more than "you have to care for the land." The professor left feeling snubbed and my grandfather, bewildered. 

My gosh could that man make things grow!  I often think his greatest frustration came from the sticks that he used to support saplings, they would inevitably take root and need to be replaced. He just could not help but make plants grow.

He was quiet, not in a shy way but rather as if words were gold coins, to be spent only when necessary.  Some of my fondest memories are fishing beside him on a riverbank, hours of conversations without a single word being passed.  That was the thing; in silence he could convey his thoughts and feelings far better than the most eloquent speaker.  Walking along atop of a fence, holding one end of a stick as he held the other, was the safest feeling in the world. And when the world was crumbling, that worn and giant of a hand on your shoulder was a far better balm than any medicine.

He taught me that everything in life is connected;  the water, the land, you, me, we're all part of one giant ecosystem and if one part fails, you help. You don't break the chain; you dig in and give, not for some reward but because it's the right thing to do. He taught me to stand up for what I believe in and that courage and kindness are gifts to be shared.

He taught me that a person's value isn't determined by wealth or possessions, that we're all made up of the same material. He had no tolerance for racism or bigotry and for someone born deep in the Ozarks at the turn of the century, that was quite a rarity. As was he.

Whatever fine qualities I may arguably possess, are all attributed to him. I never told him of the tremendous impact he'd made on my life, but I desperately hope that he knew. 

I loved him dearly.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

I want to walk where the fireflies dance.

"Walk with me where the fireflies dance; that's where dreams live." - Grimagination.

Yes I know, the quote is more than a little pompous and filled with hubris but .... I miss fireflies. I miss the warm night air with crickets chirping, that misty feeling with the scent of jasmine in the air. I won't necessarily say it was a simpler time but certainly more comforting than concrete, car stereos blaring and exhaust fumes.

Believe it or not, seeing fireflies once more is on my bucket list. Yes, I have one. It's not long and to be honest, the simplicity would be more alarming than that of the wildest daredevil but it's mine.

Someday, many things :)

No way to slow down.

"Oh he feels the pistons scraping, steam breaking on his brow, old Charlie stole the handle and the train, it won't stop going. No way to slow down."


One of the lyrics from Jethro Tull's "Locomotive Breath".  It's a song in heavy rotation on my iPod these days.


No I don't relate to the theme of a man's entire life unraveling, but I do relate to when the pace of life seems to quicken, building up speed and pressure faster and faster until it's all you can do to just keep up and hold on tight.  The last month or more has really been a wild ride at a breakneck pace, from the moment my feet hit the floor until my head hits the pillow. So many things to do, many more and more obligations to meet and I'll be honest, I get tired. I get cranky. I have a lot of responsibilities; those who know me well, are aware of a few of them but really nobody knows all of them all. Nobody. They're all responsibilities I assumed by choice, no one forced them on me so I do not have room nor right to complain.  Admittedly sometimes I do and I'm usually embarrassed by it.


I've blogged a good deal about having patience for others, trying to see what the other person is going through and not to judge.  I mean that. You have to stop for a moment; take a deep breath and consider the other person and the burden they carry.


And if you're wondering why I am telling you this? I'm not.  I'm telling me.  I've been so short of patience lately and been letting stress, pressure and a heavy load (again assumed by choice) get the better of me.  I've argued with people who didn't deserve it and been less than patient with others.  Stress is no excuse, that's simply no way to treat people.  Ok telling Mr. LittleShoes to go f-himself twice this month...? Yah, no I would TOTALLY do that again. I won't lie but then I feel I've earned that one :)


If you are one of the many, many that I've pissed off and have yet to apologize, come talk to me.  I'll eat a bit of crow and maybe mend a fence or two. 


I've always said I'm not yet the man I want to be but I get closer every day.  I slid a little this month but I'm not nearly done yet trying to be better.


Be happy.  Live, love, laugh and be kind.


Thank you for taking the time to read.

There is a better life.

For those that follow my blog, may recall my September 14th post "Monsters Are Real".  It was a short blog filled with statistics and hotline numbers on the subject of domestic violence. This week I said goodbye to a good friend; she was the inspiration for that blog and as she makes her way towards creating a new life, she inspires again.


Like many in an abusive relationship, she made excuses for her husband's behavior.  She believed him when he promised "never again".  She felt she was to blame for "getting him mad" and deserved the abuse. She gave over control of finances and suffered in silence and isolation. That's the pattern of an abuser; the transference, the control and the lies. "You're the cause. You made me do it. You pushed my buttons. It was only once. I said I was sorry."


She was still making excuses as I held her hand while EMT's tended to her broken nose and fractured orbital bone.


I've known abusers in my life; their paramount need is for control at any costs.  Physical, sexual, verbal and mental abuse is most common but certainly not the only forms. An abuser may attempt psychological manipulation or controlling finances, they may stalk or attempt to remove you from friends and family in order to better secure control.


As I said in the previous blog, "you don't have to leave a bruise to harm someone".


As much as it saddened me to say goodbye to my friend, my heart swelled with pride in knowing she was bravely forging her own path.  She made choices for herself and her children to relocate somewhere far away from the horrors she endured and would contact friends and family when she felt ready.


When she felt ready.


For someone leaving an abusive relationship, that one sentence was worth every volume every written about personal enlightenment. Not fearing a blow for making the wrong decision. Not having to walk on eggshells or keep quiet. Feeling something other than pain at its worst and numb at its best. No longer fearing to just live. 


If you're in an abusive relationship, there is help; you do not have to suffer in silence.  You don't have to live in fear and you're not alone in the darkness. 

If you're in immediate danger, call 911. If you looking for a way out, please contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) . There's someone there 24 hours a day and can help you for both immediate and long term plans.

Above all, please know you didn't ask to be abused and it is not your fault. There is a better life.


Be kind. Be well. Live, love and laugh.


Thank you for taking the time to read.


For safety plans and additional information, please visit the following websites:

http://www.domesticviolence.org/
http://www.ncadv.org/

"Don't go where I can't follow."

"'Frodo, Mr. Frodo!' he called. 'Don't leave me here alone! It's your Sam calling. 'Don't go where I can't follow! Wake up, Mr. Frodo! O wake up, Frodo, dear me. Wake up!' 


It's one of my absolute favorite passages from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. Specifically "The Two Towers" although many people associate it the "Return of the King" movie.  I'm so very glad the script writers left that line in. (FYI a rub for me is that Frodo NEVER went to Osgiliath. Sorry, but I had to mention it.)


"Don't go where I can't follow."


Samwise Gamgee's unwavering loyalty and love for his friend is put to the test and there is so much within that short plea. Entire volumes could be written about Sam's loyalty.


Despite hardship, despite the maliciousness of the One Ring, Samwise never falters in his duty.  Not so much in his task of escorting the Ring to Mordor, but in keeping Frodo safe. He risks physical danger, suffers the rebuke from his most trusted friend and yet.. his loyalty prevails. Is not tempted by the Ring. He is not deterred by hunger, wounds or lack of spirit. He keeps his friend safe because of love. 


If we had (and indeed were) friends such as Samwise Gamgee, what a truly beautiful world this would be.


Thank you for taking the time to read. 

Perfect Writing

Every once in a while (every year, actually) I purchase a copy of my favorite novel by my favorite writer and make a gift of an awe inspiring tale to a friend.  I'm speaking of Charles Dickens, of course.  I know, his characters may be somewhat predictable and his villains tended to be highly exaggerated  but his themes and cadence have always spoken to me.  It's truly beautiful writing and if you've not revisited his works since middle school, I highly encourage you to do so.


Dickens was one the writers that made me want to pick up every book in my youth, hoping that within those covers would be a work of equal worth.  Sadly few have met that high expectation. (Larry McMurtry is quite brilliant, as is Stephen King, James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell and Shelby Foote.) As you may have surmised, I do enjoy a diverse genre.


But Dickens? Who can resist the words so perfect they might well never the like be seen again. It has every element of what we strive for in each of ourselves. Self discovery, romance, redemption, selfless love and sacrifice. Carton who is known as "The Jackal" and by everyone's estimation has led a wasted life. Yet in his waning hours, faced with his own mortality, ensures the happiness of the one he cares for, knowing he can never share in the joy. What scifi fan does not recognize his final thoughts of "it's a far, far better thing I do...".


Carton left him there; but lingered at a little distance and turned back to the gate again when it was shut, and touched it.  He had heard of her going to the prison every day. "She came out here," he said, looking about him, "turned this way, must have trod on these stones often.  Let me follow in her steps." - Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.


The beauty of pure, unrequited love sparked merely by another's lingering presence. I wish authors today strived for such excellence. Instead we're treated to the same banality served under different scintillating titles. Gore versus horror, techno-babble in place of genius science fiction borne from imagination. A work should be more than just a thirty second advertisement; it should grab you, shake you to your core and leave you with thoughts of the characters for days, even years afterwards.


A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. - Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.


My thoughts for this evening.  Thank you for taking the time to read.

Hope Lives On

HOPE LIVES ON. 1/24/12


"What a wretched corpse hope leaves behind."


I wrote that.  Yup, that was me during my "I'm Grim and I write <really bad> brooding poetry" phase. Dark glasses, black on black attire and fearing to make a connection with anyone lest I be disappointed and hurt again.  I was actually pretty distrustful of everyone, which often surprises people today.


"I suppose nice guys are lucky to be in the race in the first place." Another one I wrote.  Are you seeing a pattern here?   I was a pessimist throughout most of my mid to late 20's and I do not mean sort-of or kind of, I mean hardcore. 


It's been awhile since I leafed through old scraps of short stories and prose.  A lot of it came from a pretty dark place and writing was my outlet for exorcising emotional demons.  As I read it again, one thought came to mind.


What a self absorbed tosser, I was.


Hope doesn't die.  Hope is something that lives in each of us, whispering our hearts desire of the little things that we may never tell another soul.  We may hope for a better life, for the safety of friends, for riches, for health, for love.  We never really stop hoping; through disappointment we sometimes simply stop listening.  Hope may weaken and grow hoarse but it's still there, trying desperately to be heard.  It lives in the corners of memories of days past and in the most remote possibility of things to come.  It's a gentle caress  of a lover's hand, a sleepy sunrise,  shared laughter,  a piece of music.


Life isn't easy and it's not supposed to be. Life can be a cold and incredibly lonely place and the journey is going to grind you to your knees at times, there's no shame in being knocked down.  It's what you do when you're feeling lost and disheartened that matters. I choose to embrace hope as a beacon in the night rather than a flame by which to burn.


Maybe that which we desire most may never come to pass but there's always hope. 


I'm a steward of hope.

"What a wretched corpse, hope leaves behind."


I wrote that.  Yup, that was me during my "I'm Grim and I write <really bad> brooding poetry" phase. Dark glasses, black on black attire and fearing to make a connection with anyone lest I be disappointed and hurt again.  I was actually pretty distrustful of everyone, which often surprises people today.


"I suppose nice guys are lucky to be in the race in the first place." Another one I wrote.  Are you seeing a pattern here?   I was a pessimist throughout most of my mid to late 20's and I do not mean sort-of or kind of, I mean hardcore. 
It's been awhile since I leafed through old scraps of short stories and prose.  A lot of it came from a pretty dark place and writing was my outlet for exorcising emotional demons.  As I read it again, one thought came to mind.


What a self absorbed tosser, I was.


Hope doesn't die.  Hope is something that lives in each of us, whispering our hearts desire of the little things that we may never tell another soul.  We may hope for a better life, for the safety of friends, for riches, for health, for love.  We never really stop hoping; through disappointment we sometimes simply stop listening.  Hope may weaken and grow hoarse but it's still there, trying desperately to be heard.  It lives in the corners of memories of days past and in the most remote possibility of things to come.  It's a gentle caress  of a lover's hand, a sleepy sunrise,  shared laughter,  a piece of music.


Life isn't easy and it's not supposed to be. Life can be a cold and incredibly lonely place and the journey is going to grind you to your knees at times, there's no shame in being knocked down.  It's what you do when you're feeling lost and disheartened that matters. I choose to embrace hope as a beacon in the night rather than a flame by which to burn.


Maybe that which we desire most may never come to pass but there's always hope. 


I'm a steward of hope.

Floyd!?

So I've found out that my cousin (Let's call him Floyd in case he discovers the "portal to the intenetteds" and I would hate for my rant to embarrass him.) is now married.  Floyd. The man who would offer to eat oddities for beer money.  The man who never met an itch he wouldn't scratch in public and who once said to me "David Lee Roth don't need them Van Halen assholes."


Don't get me wrong,  I'm actually pretty happy for Floyd and if he's found someone whom he loves and loves him in return, that's a beautiful thing.  I'm not jealous or resentful;  it's just difficult to put my initial reaction into words. 


Just... Floyd?!?


I was counting on Floyd.  As the only other bachelor in the entire family (Not including "Earl" who can now get married in several states), Floyd gave me a cushion. I had padding.  I had time and a distraction to all of my aunts, elders and married friends. "Go pick on Floyd, he's not married either!"  


Yes I verbally kneecapped Floyd on more than one occasion. If you knew my family, you would too. Don't judge me.


Oh the devious machinations this will put into motion.... Thank goodness the holidays are past so I do not have to fear the "fix-up, the set-up and the mix-up" for awhile yet.  (See my October 2010 'He's Single' entry for details.) 


I don't really have much contact with my father's side of the family anymore but I can practically smell the smoke from the phone lines crossing the country, from the Southland to central California back to the Southland and finally to here.


"Floyd got himself hitched. When is Grim going to get married??"


"He's too old to still be a bachelor!"


"Is he catting around? Fornicator!"


"Well you know how they live out there, they're all hippies."


"I will put his name on the church's prayer list and we will pray for his wicked, wicked soul!"


And so on... and so on...


Basically Floyd just made my life a little more difficult for the interim. So if you see a child with overly large gums, permanent baby teeth and hair in places no human should have growth, that'll be my new second cousin, Floyd Jr. or little Floydette.


And all kidding aside, Floyd is really a terrific guy and will make a heck of husband.  He's loyal, trustworthy and generous. I really do wish him all of the happiness in the world.


Damn it.


Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, Life goes on.


Thank you for taking the time to read.

Goodbye to 2011 & Hello to Possibilities.

It's the last week of 2011.  It's been a year of amazing highs and pretty rough lows and like most, I'm anxiously awaiting the new year of possibilities. A chance to better ourselves, our relationships, our place in the universe and maybe lend a helping hand to those in need.  It's kind of a pensive night dear reader, perhaps not the best time to blog but I've neglected the poor thing for so long.


Last year I made the resolution to be more outgoing; I think I accomplished a fair amount of that in the course of 365 days.  I attended two large geek conventions, rocked out to Joan Jett at my very first concert, found friends, tried my best to be a friend, lost others and ate the best hamburger and pizza in the world, during the most wonderful summer of my life. And yes,  I lived to tell the tale.


I recently replaced all four tires on my car, an unexpected purchase at the wrong time of the year but I suppose there's never a right time.  I just feel like those tires this time of year; I think we all do at one moment or another.  Too much pressure ripping at our seams and wondering when that last bit of friction grinding us down will prove too much.  It's as if we're just hoping to make it over the next hill, alone in the darkness. I don't mean to come across as bitter or melancholy, I've had a many, many blessings in my life, much more so than a good number of people and I'm so very grateful.  I try to focus on that sense of gratitude on nights such as these, when I feel really very tired in almost every sense of the word. Tired, depleted and unable to shut down. I'm thankful for my small family, my dear friends and those who are dear to me.  I'm warm, I do not go hungry and I've a roof over my head at night.  That in itself is far more than some have ever known.


Tomorrow is a new day. In two days it's a new year; an open page to write your own story, a canvas to paint as vividly as you will.  All you must do is act quickly while the ink well is full and the paint still fluid. I wish grand masterpieces for you all.


Last year was my year of adventure, I think this year my resolution is to be more appreciative.  If you've taken the time to read my rambling dear reader, I'm pretty grateful for you.


"Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts." - Charles Dickens

It's Not Just a Case of the Blues

Washington state is considering eliminating funding for their Youth Suicide Prevention Program (YSPP).  I can't think of a worse idea than to cut funds for a program that if anything, should be over-funded.  We must find better ways to help the youth fight or learn tools in how to deal with bullying and depression.  


Depression affects 19 million people each year and the severity ranges from mild to major and one of the most at risk are teens.  It’s an unseen wound, when left unchecked can worsen over time to the point of debilitation. 

Depression is different than merely being depressed.  We all have those moments of sadness, an off day attributed to everyday living: disappointments, cancelled plans, breakups, another Dallas Cowboys' losing season. You'll get down and then back up, life will go on. 


I mean depression as in someone can’t eat, sleep or summon the will to get out of bed.


I’ve had several clinically depressed close friends in my lifetime, I'm still dear friends with one. They never knew each other, but eerily, both used the word swimming in describing depression.  One described it as “swimming in a murky pool of bad feelings" while another said she continually felt like "swimming in glue with weights tied to your neck".  Swimming. Drowning in every negative emotion and insecurity. For the clinically depressed, that overwhelming feeling of sadness is their life and entire world. I can’t imagine being in pain every waking moment; to not be able to at least identify the source of my sorrow.  Worse still is the stigma associated with depression; as the person is condemned as ‘crazy’ or dismissed as “being a downer”.

If you know someone who’s showing signs of depression, don’t wait, reach out to them. Don’t assume it will blow over or they will find something else to occupy their time.  There is nothing, nothing in this world worse than the feeling of regret for not being there for someone in their hour of need. Believe me.

If you have thoughts of suicide or self harm, please call 1-800-SUICIDE or  1-800-999-9999 from anywhere in the US. There is a person waiting to talk to you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. If you feel you're suffering from depression, not just a case of the blues, please seek help and don't be afraid. You're not alone. You don't have to suffer in silence.

I’m not sure what made me focus on this topic this week. I had intended to write of autumn with my grandpa, but I don’t think he would’ve minded stepping aside for a moment.

I still remember you, Joshie. I pray you’ve found peace.

Thank you for taking the time to read.


(Thank you "MaryAnn" for the heads up on the WA situation and insight) 

Bulkheads.

"Her sides must be made of iron!" 

A quote attributed to a sailor during the sea battle of the USS Constitution and the HMS Guerriere in the War of 1812, where the cannonballs seemed to bounce off of the USS Constitution's double plank oaken hull.  Hence the nickname "Old Ironsides".

The topic my dear readers, is bulkheads.  It's not a flashy or sexy subject for this week's blog but it's what's on my mind.  A bulkhead is any vertical partition within a ship's hull.  A shipwright may use these to create storage areas to prevent cargo from shifting within a ship's hold or for creation of an airtight compartment in case of damage. It also reinforces the ship's hull for durability as the open ocean waves can create quite a pounding. The bulkheads are cumbersome and weigh the ship down but it's an integral part, born out of necessity.

Me? I just like the idea of safeguarding the ship; to minimize the damage before it reaches the innermost core.  To protect the heart of the vessel, to prevent anything from getting too close; because it's only at close range that the real damage occurs.

And ultimately that's what a bulkhead is. A safety valve.  A means of self preservation.  If you want to get beyond the emergency bulkheads, you have to take time.  Get to know why they're there or you'll never know what's behind them.

But then again, that's the point.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

And the new theme is....

So I've decided.... the theme for my blog is going to be... ?

No theme. 

I've posed the question and ultimately the decision rests upon myself.  To that end I've decided there will be no isolated theme, not strictly tech or geek, comic or media, just simply.... what's on my mind at the time.  Given that I've only a handful of followers, I hardly think this will cause ripples across the web, but I'm giving fair warning.  Some of it may be of interest, some less so, but all will be my own thoughts.

I hope you stick around.  I'd like to know your opinions on the topics.

As always, my thanks for taking the time to read.

Monsters Are Real.

Monsters are real.  They don't live under our beds or in our closets and they don't only come out at night.  The monsters may wear many faces; some familiar, some we put our trust in.  They can be spouses, parents or intimate partners.

The monster is domestic violence.  A topic that sadly seems to be at best discussed only in hushed tones and at worst, suffered in silence.  The abuse can take many forms:  physical, sexual and verbal.  It can be manipulation, intimidation, psychological, controlling finances and stalking.  You don't have to leave a bruise to damage someone.

Here are the hard facts: Nearly 1 in three women have been physically or sexually abused by a husband or boyfriend at least once in their lifetime.  That's an incident every fifteen seconds.  It's the leading cause of injury to women with only 25% of the incidences being  reported. The statistics get worse, 30% of female murder victims were killed by husbands or boyfriends.  
 
It doesn't have to be this way. 

If you're in danger, call 911 or the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

If you're in an abusive relationship, it's not your fault.  No one deserves to be abused or made to live in fear.  You're not alone there is help for both short term and long term plans.  

For safety plans and additional information, please visit the following websites:
http://www.domesticviolence.org/

http://www.ncadv.org/

Star Trek KHAAAAN!

On August 10th I attended my first real Star Trek Convention. (No offense to TrekExpo, which was very fun!)

I spent five days surrounded by Star Trek, giants in the field of science fiction, Leonard Nimoy's final appearance and yet... I went to one panel. Why? Because I was having the best time I can honestly recall. I met new friends, put faces to old friends that I'd never seen and talked to people from literally half the world away. I danced for the first time in years, I drank much more heavily than I should have, saw the actual Vegas strip and sat idly by while my kidney was being bartered. I didn't miss a thing.

Because that's what Star Trek is to me. It's not so much the props, the music or even the acting. It's the reaction by the fans, the camaraderie and the ability of this franchise much more than any other, to draw from all walks of life. We may dislike the odd number movies or have our personal preferences but we all agree... Star Trek has impacted our lives.

In the next blog I may make some actual references to the events, but for now there were far too many to individually list. To those who were there, thank you so very much for every laugh and moment that made my heart swell. For those who couldn't attend, I truly hope to see you next year!

Live Long & Prosper!