Wednesday, 17 October 2004, 3:23 peeyem
There are a few columnists I read regularly. Sometimes I call them or email them, if what they say strikes a chord in me. Leonard Pitts of the Miami Herald is one of those, and I almost always find something I can use in his column. The column I am posting here ran in the Miami Herald on October 25 and ran in the Atlanta Journal Constitution in today's paper. I think it's an interesting look at things. Perhaps you will too.
LEONARD
PITTS JR./COMMENTARY
A few answers from above shed light on tragedy
I
threw down the newspaper in disgust. God, who was sitting in the recliner
next to mine watching the baseball playoffs, glanced over.
''Relax,'' He said, ``the campaign will be over in a few days.''
''It's not that,'' I said.
``Then what?''
I handed God the newspaper. He put on his reading glasses and spent a
few minutes studying the page. Finally, He shook His head. ''Oh,'' He
said, as He laid the paper aside.
' `Oh?' Is that all you can say? Didn't you read the story? These rebels
in Uganda, they're kidnapping children and forcing them to be soldiers
and sex slaves! It says here they've killed 100,000 people, displaced
1.6 million over the last 18 years. Doesn't that bother you?''
''It bothers me,'' God said.
``I would think so. Especially since . . .''
God arched His brow. ``Especially since what?''
It took me a second to gather my courage. ''Especially since they're doing
it in your name,'' I said finally.
''It's bad enough they call themselves the Lord's Resistance Army, but
did you see this part here? According to the United Nations, these monsters
say they're kidnapping kids in order to set up a new government based
on the Ten Commandments,'' I said.
''They forgot No. 8,'' God said.
``Beg pardon?''
''No. 8,'' God said. ' `Thou shalt not steal.' Also, No. 6, of course.
'Thou shalt not kill.' ''
``Why don't you stop them then? Send a plague. Destroy the rebels.''
``Is that what you think I should do?''
``You weren't shy about it in the Old Testament.''
God sighed. ``You send a little too much rain one time and they never
let you forget.''
''It's not funny!'' To my surprise, I shouted it.
''You're angry with me,'' God said.
I swallowed hard. ``I guess I am. It shouldn't be this way. It doesn't
have to be.''
``Well, we agree there.''
``Then make it stop. You could.''
''I could,'' He agreed. ``Maybe I will. But it will just start again somewhere
else. You know that, don't you? That's the problem with that free will
thing I gave you all.''
''Yeah, yeah,'' I said. ``We can choose to do right, or we can choose
to do wrong. I know all about that.''
'Don't give me, `Yeah, yeah,' '' God said sternly. ``And for the record,
that's not what I meant. What I'm saying is that you people, you're all
like that Jim Carrey fellow in that Bruce Almighty movie. You all think
you can be a better God than I can.
``Some
awful thing happens to you, or some bad person isn't instantly struck
down by lightning bolts and you figure it must be because God is slipping.
You figure He needs your help.
'So you decide to play God. And you use my name to sanction your meanest
and most narrow impulses, like I'm a moral Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card or
something.
You say you're doing my will; then you steal babies and make war. You
say you're doing what God said; then you kill one another. I told you
to love one another. How do you get from `love' to 'kill?' ''
''But how are we supposed to have faith in you when you let so many bad
things happen?'' I asked.
''I could ask you the same question,'' God said.
``You know why I gave you free will? I wanted you to surprise yourselves
sometimes. Surprise me, too. I knew you'd do things that disappointed
me, but I thought you'd make me proud more often. I thought you would
find more opportunities to do good. Instead, you find opportunities to
break my heart.
''And yet I keep giving you chances, don't I? Keep giving you sunrises,
keep giving you babies, keep giving you breath, waiting for you to surprise
me,'' He said.
I picked up the paper and looked at the awful story again. ''Lord, have
mercy,'' I said.
God gave me a wan smile. ''I know,'' He said. ``You think it's hard believing
in me? Think how I feel, trying to believe in you.''
Monday, 25 October 2004, 1:14 peeyem
It's not so much that I like gadgets. I mean, I do like them, but I don't feel compelled to have every gadget available to me. For instance, I don't have an iPod or any other sort of MP3 player. I don't even know how to download MP3s. I have a cellphone that will take pictures, but I can't figure out where the pictures go if you take one, and I don't have an earpiece thing so that I may walk freely about in peopled places talking on the phone. I don't even have a microwave oven, for that matter.
But this:
I had to have. But what is this thing? you must be wondering. Why, it's a heated eyelash curler!
And before you go getting all indignant or snickering, let me just say that if the eyelashes on both my eyes behaved the same, I wouldn't need an eyelash curler at all, not even the $2.59 from the grocery store, which I have, thank you very kindly, and which pinches my inner canthus. This becomes even more of a pain in the, er, canthus when you, as advised, heat it with the blow dryer so your lashes will hold the curl, because then not only does it pinch, it also burns.
So I trekked myself to the mall and got it, and I have to say I'm quite pleased with myself, and with my heated eyelash curler. So there.
On to other things, if you live in Georgia and you are a registered voter, you can vote early this year, during this week. There should be something in your local paper about where to go do it, but if not, you can look at the Secretary of State's website for advance polling places.
Tuesday, 19 October 2004, 1:48 peeyem
You know what? I'm tired. Tired, tired, tired. I used to could stay up all night for several days in a row and not be phased by it, but those days have gone.
I was up until something crazy like 12:30 or 1 Sunday morning and I'm still not over it, despite having had a nap Sunday evening and gone to bed early Sunday night and last night.
This sucks. I want my young self back, my young self who could nap for 20 minutes and be fine for the rest of the day.
On the other hand, I don't want back my young self with all that free-floating anxiety and passion. I'm much happier now that I'm old enough to survey the situation and just say eh and move along.
The other good thing about being past the youngest of my youth is that if I don't want to go, I don't have to.
Maybe I should lie down for a bit. I feel a nap coming on.
Don't forget that election day is 2 weeks from today.
Monday, 18 October 2004, 1:27 peeyem
I made it all the way to Dublin and back on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning without any speeding tickets. This is practically a red-letter event for me.
I was in Dublin for my high school reunion and I had a blast. I wasn't even going to go, but Beverly said I should and sometimes it's just easier to do as I'm told.
Me and Beverly, at Granny's birthday party last year. She's the tall one.
Aside from Beverly, I hadn't seen most of the people there since we graduated, though I have been in touch with a very few via email and Christmas card, that sort of thing. I was astonished at how good everyone looked. More than that, though, we all have jobs and responsibilities, and it's just amazing.
If you are reading this and you graduated from high school with me, if you took pictures that you'd like posted, please email them to me and I'll put them up on a page and send you back an email telling you how to get to it.
When I got back to Atlanta yesterday for my match, the opposing captain was exceptionally cranky and insulting. She was wearing a patch, so maybe she's trying to stop smoking, but my Lord, she needs to start again if it's going to get her in this much of a twist. One of my teammates actually had to ask her what she was insinuating regarding our default record and our intentions.
Monday, 11 October 2004, 2:05 peeyem
I
had an invitation to play a little tennis Sturday morning, so I got up
at dark:thirty and headed over to the courts at Agnes Scott. We played
for a few hours and then called it a day.
When I was leaving the courts, I turned the wrong way, or at least not
the reasonable way, but figured I'd just go that way anyway and it would
all shake out in the end, plus I do love a good leisurely drive around.
I came to a 4-way stop and as I was sitting there waiting for the first
car to go, I heard CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP.
Now, I grew up on a farm, in a rural area, and I found this puzzling,
because I was not by any means in a rural area this morning, but I was
positive the CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP I was hearing was a horse.
But again, I'd been up early and had been running around outside without
benefit of having brushed my teeth beforehand, so maybe I was hearing
things.
I sat there a minute and the CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP got louder
and closer.
And then there was a large chestnut horse, right there at the corner.
Sitting upon his back was a black cowboy. Not a black man riding a horse,
a black cowboy.
They weren't going the way I was going, but how many Saturday mornings
in Decatur, Georgia do you run into a black cowboy on a chestnut horse?
Hell. I followed them. They cantered. They galloped. They pranced. The
horse was beautifully trained to respond to the pressure of his rider's
knee pressed against him.
I followed for a couple of miles, every now and again pulling up alongside
them, the cowboy touching his hat and smiling at me each time, the horse
marching in place.
I think I've seen it all now. I hope this doesn't mean I'm near death,
but I guess if I am, then it's a good time to go, because I've seen something
I've never seen before.
Thursday, 7 October 2004, 2:55 peeyem
I thought I had something to say. I must not.
I mean, there's the usual bitching about other drivers that needs to be done, but you probably know that by rote now.
I suppose I could get a head start on my holiday angst, but I haven't the time, really, for even one more task that requires any of my time.
I had been looking forward to my flu shot this year, since I assled around last year and didn't get one, and consequently spent flu season on tenterhooks, waiting to be felled by the dreaded flu. I mean, it's not like no one else can do my job, but no one else can do my job, at least not without a lot of instruction from me. But now I hear there's a shortage of flu vaccine and I'm not in a high-risk group, so even though I could probably persuade someone to give me one, I'd feel terrible about it.
Spent part of last Saturday in the darkroom. Erk. It was terrible. One good print, so far. I worked on another and it just wasn't coming together so I had to quit it, because I was eventually just dripping chemicals all over myself and the floor and wasting paper.
So. Are you going to vote? The general election is in less than a month. If you're 18 or over, you need to be voting. If you're old enough to go to another country and kill or be killed for your country, you need to be voting. If you're old enough to be tried as an adult, you need to be voting. If you're old enough to be responsible for your own healthcare, you need to be voting. If you're old enough to have a checking account without a signatory, you need to be voting.
If you're old enough to vote, and you're not because you don't want to get called for jury duty, or because you don't have time, or because your vote doesn't count, you need to come up with a better reason, something along the lines of my appendix burst and I had to have an emergency appendectomy that morning.
But that's just my thoughts on whether you should vote or not.
As a parting thought, why are we so concerned that Rafael Furcal and Jamal Lewis not serve their sentences until the end of their baseball and football seasons? What kind of world do we live in where convicted felons get to play ball for a few more weeks or months before reporting to jail?
Living
in the
Past?
2004
2003
2002
