Thank You, Judge Walker

And now that I'm going, congratulations California! I was very happy and excited by the recent ruling of Judge Walker declaring Prop 8 unconstitutional. If you haven't read the opinion, it's amazing and as good a read as I've enjoyed lately. Just my opinion, but I think especially his findings of fact are going to create some real excitement on the issue of gay and lesbian marriage -- probably very soon and probably before the Supreme Court of the United States. The order can be read at http://msnbcmedia.msn.com/i//MSNBC/Sections/NEWS/A_U.S.%20news/Life/gaymarriage.pdf

But, even more compelling and interesting to me was Keith Olbermann's comment at the end of his show. I was in tears by the end. If you missed it,
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27650743/ns/msnbc_tv-countdown_with_keith_olbermann/

The documents speak for themselves. I'll just close with Olbermann's quote of Clarence Darrow who quoted the Persian poet, Omar-Khayyam:

"So I be written in the Book of Love;
I do not care about that Book above.
Erase my name, or write it as you will,
So I be written in the Book of Love."

My Man LeBron

One of my friends mentioned that I hadn't written anything lately. It's not been for lack of subject matter or that I've lost my opinionated touch, it's mostly lack of time. But, a couple weeks ago there was a column in the local rag which got me going again. One of those pieces that make your teeth hurt. One that makes you wonder how this writer ever got a spot in a newspaper and you're limited to ranting on your own little mostly, I fear, unread blog. Got your attention?

The gist of the column was that LeBron James is a disloyal, money-hungry, ungrateful wretch because he had the unmitigated nerve to leave Cleveland. Normally I don't care about professional athletes or the obscene amounts of money they make, but this column got me going. The writer went on to opine that since Cleveland was so good to James, the least he could do is to create a foundation, contribute every penny he makes in his first year at Miami, and give the money to poor people in Cleveland. There was also some talk about James not being grateful or loyal to Cleveland. Okay. Stop and take off earrings.

I wanted to just say "WTF" but I sent a sarcastic email to the writer instead, something along the lines of I thought it was hilarious that three black guys got together, made some demands, went to the same franchise and will probably affect what goes on in the NBA for the next several years. I made a smart aleck remark about white people getting their undies in a bundle when black people do something savvy and smart. I opined that James did something good for himself and I say "Good for him." It's the NBA, stupid. It's about money. Period.

I got a timid little response from the writer this morning: "Good morning. I hesitated to reply to this; are you really serious about your reply, especially the thing about 'three black guys'?" Oh, my. Looks like the PC police struck again. You don't even want to know what I said to him.

As the Sherrod episode so clearly showed, we've got a long way to go in this country. We can't even engage in a civil discourse about race. We snipe at each other from behind right wing nut cases like Breitbart. And a local columnist in SW FL plays into people's hateful, racist attitudes by implying that James "owes" Cleveland; that he's not being "loyal" to Massa Cleveland that gave him so much. My question to the clueless columnist? Did you ever write a column admonishing Brett Favre for leaving the town that nurtured and supported him or suggesting that he return to Green Bay with a bucket full of money for poor folks? No answer. Yet.

Tiger-Pit

Greetings to you all from Tiger! It's been almost a year that he's run the house and he's a real pip. Actually, he's a pit, but "pip" seems to fit him better. And he's one of the funniest dogs we've ever had -- smart, alert, watchful, protective, stubborn and damn funny.

He has a routine -- when he's awake and up in the morning, Debra's awake and up. First, it's the little nails clicking on the floor, then it's that god-damned whining. Covering my head doesn't work -- he jumps up on the bed, pulls back the covers and licks my face, tail thumping and entire body wagging madly. Moan. Groan. He waits by my flip-flops while I stumble around looking for my clothes. First time out, it's just to pee and pick up the newspaper. I can read through a cup of coffee, and then it's time to walk. So, we walk. Back to the house. Now, it's time to get Cliff up (for those of you who don't know, Cliff worked afternoons for many years and hasn't been able to break that strange habit -- 3:00 a.m. to bed; 11 or noonish, up and at 'em). Whimper at the door. Wait. Stamp foot. Wait. Bark. Wait. Wag tail against door. Wait. Eventually it works. Cliff is allowed one cup of coffee and then it's time to play ball. All I can say is I hope he never decides to run away, because neither one of us could catch him. He chases the ball until he's absolutely exhausted and then he's good for the day.

The other evening, we were finishing dinner when the phone rang -- I was in the process of cutting up a few scraps of pork roast to put in his bowl. I went to answer the phone and forgot about my plate on the table. When I got done talking, I walked past the table and remembered, but there wasn't a single piece of anything on the plate -- it was licked spanking clean. I thought I was losing my mind -- had I put the meat in his bowl? Then I realized the chair had been moved to accomodate someone with shorter legs than I (and twice as many), and the plate had nary a scrap of food on it, not even a shadow! I had to laugh -- he had moved the chair so he could get to the plate, and quietly licked it clean while I was on the phone.

We miss Bossman dearly, but this pup has stolen our hearts. A friend says he'll keep us young, but I sometimes have to wonder if my 92-year-old Aunt Nina was right when she said, "A puppy? At your age? Have you lost your mind?" Don't know, Aunt Nina, don't know!

Dumb and Dumber

I recently received one of those emails that make the top of my head come off. This one was a picture of President Obama holding Fareed Zakaria's book, "The Post-American World" with the following message:

"This will open your eyes. What does Obama read? Photo verified by Snopes. The name of the book Obama is reading is called The Post-American World, written by a fellow Muslim. Post-America - the world after America??? Please forward this picture to everyone you know, conservative or liberal to expose Obama's radical ideas and intent for this country!"

As anyone who's read the book knows (and it's pathetically obvious that the note's author hasn't), it's a best seller about the effect the rise of China and India is going to have on the United States and the rest of the world in the next decade or so. Insightful, informational, brilliant, and reassuring, all at the same time. I bought a copy and read it at least twice. My Dad read it and thinks it's an amazing book. I guess that makes us Muslims? We didn't just carry it around, we actually read it.

My guess is the note writer probably doesn't know that Hawaii's a state, that Obama is not now and never has been a Muslim, and that people with rich, full lives have friends that are not exactly like them. Am I really that brilliant or has the rest of America gotten amazingly more stupid? Just wondering.

What About Them?

We just returned from Chicago where we saw our very favorite Dr. Love for Cliff's annual check-up at Loyola. Everything looks good, but it was a very stressful three days of tests and doctors and appointments and hurrying up and waiting. His pulmonary numbers are stable, his kidneys are still working and we actually got to see a sleep doctor who came up with a plan to help control the insomnia with which he's been plagued for 15 years.

So, I listen to all the screaming and ranting and raving and lying and exaggerating and absolutely disgusting, disgraceful behavior (ummm, Joe Wilson) and I think, "We are so lucky. We have good insurance, we have an incredible doctor, we have a friend at the City benefits office, we have a very helpful case manager at BC/BS, I have several nurse friends and relatives who never BS me." And then I think, "What about the people who aren't so lucky, who didn't work for attorneys for 35 years and pick up some nasty lawyer tricks, who aren't so persistent and obnoxious that people give in just to make them go away, who don't understand every little bit and piece of the chronic condition with which they're dealing, who don't know the questions to ask or the services to expect/demand, who don't have the resources? What about them?" I'm waiting for President Obama to "go Chicago" on Congress, but will it really happen? Maybe part of the solution is simply learning to survive in the system we've got . . .

That's all. What about them?