Pizza Anyone?

This sardonic ACLU video simulates ordering a pizza in the year 2015, and it makes me wonder if this will become a reality even sooner. 

Video created by the ACLU. Uploaded to YouTube be dedots

The Ninth Anniversary Of The March For Women's Lives

March for Women's Lives, 2004

Today marks the nine year anniversary of the March for Women's Lives that took place in Washington, D.C. on April 25, 2004. This picture hangs on my living room wall as a reminder of the event that I proudly took part in. I'm standing in the front, holding the "Keep Abortion Legal" NOW sign and sporting the proud smile of a person determined to keep women's healthcare decisions between her and her doctor, rather than throwing them into the hands of legislators who do not have women's best interests at heart.

I was a member of the National Organization for Women back then, and we teamed up with NARAL Pro-Choice NH leaders to secure a bus ride to D.C. together. As a group with varying ages and diverse social, economic, religious, political, and cultural backgrounds, we came together to form one group whose voice wanted (needed) to be heard. Women's reproductive choices were under attack -- as they still are today -- and we were determined to do something about it.

Once in Washington, the estimated one million marchers broke into smaller groups that bonded with each other and got to know each other a little better. My group consisted of a middle-aged to middle-aged-plus cast of women in varying degrees of physical health. One woman needed a cane to walk, one had an air cast on her leg from a recent knee surgery, and one couldn't march very fast due to arthritis, so we accommodated each other by walking at a slower pace. We stuck together and shared food and drinks, and when we stopped to pose for the above photo, a 20-something-year-old male thought we were a cool enough group of older ladies that he asked if he could be in our picture. That's him on the far right, wearing the white shirt and blue baseball cap. (My apologies that part of you got cut off in the photo, you awesome young man).

The March for Women's Lives in 2004 was the first time I ever came face-to-face with anti-choice groups who displayed magnified shock-value photos of fetuses, positioned themselves to obstruct our route as we tried to walk by them, and held bull horns a few feet from our ears to verbally assault us with derogatory names or boom rehearsed and memorized bible verses at us. Their anger was palpable but, luckily, none of us were physically harmed by any of them. Though, I did find it interesting that Fox News' Sean Hannity managed to portray pro-choice marchers as the angry ones on one of his post-March for Women's Lives broadcasts.

After the march, we settled on the lawn, sipping water and eating snacks while we watched and listened to the guest speakers deliver their thoughts and hopes for the future of women's healthcare and reproductive freedoms. That was the first time I ever saw Hillary Clinton in person. She mingled with the crowds and became an average woman, just like the rest of us. I also saw the Executive Director of the ACLU, Anthony Romero, NARAL Pro-Choice America President Kate Michelman, National Organization for Women President Kim Gandy, and various star-activists like Gloria Steinem, Whoopi Goldberg, Julianne Moore, Susan Sarandon, Ani DeFranco, Ashley Judd, and too many more to name.

The March is still a memorable event for me, and today's nine-year anniversary serves to remind me that the struggle to free ourselves from the tight hold that legislators have on our bodies is far from over.  

Death Of A Gentle Man

October ninety-eight

was a fateful time indeed.

When a young man met the brutes

who took his life sans heed.

The abuse that was committed,

against this gentle man

Escapes one’s comprehension,

too heinous to understand.

They beat him with a fury,

not understood by most

Then hung his still live body,

upon a wooden post.

They left him there to die,

without a second thought

And drove away not caring,

their alibis to plot.

Did they sleep at all that night,

knowing what they’d done?

Their malice showed no mercy,

their humanness expunged.

The crime the man committed,

to beckon his last day

Was relaxing at a pub that night
     and stating he was gay.

Boston Marathon Terror Suspect Dead

I preach and practice tolerance acceptance of other people as part of my personal commitment to view, accept, and understand those who may (initially) seem very different from me.

While I believe tolerance acceptance affords respect and dignity to people, I must point out that my acceptance and understanding of others stops when the ‘others’ are terrorists who thrive on killing, injuring, and terrorizing civilized people.

One of the Boston Marathon bomber suspects is dead, and I freely admit, if he is indeed guilty of terrorism, I am not sorry. I woke to the news of a shootout in Watertown, MA, a university police officer shot to death, the carjacking of a Mercedes, and the news that the suspected Boston terrorists are brothers who hail from Russia or Chechnya or Turkey.

If the terrorists' motives were social, political, or religious is anyone’s guess, and the unreasonableness of terrorism almost makes their motives irrelevant, but for the possibility of finding evidence of further planned attacks.

Terrorists want us to be terrorized. 

After they attack, they want to sit back and watch us be afraid to come out of our homes or go to work or ride on trains or live our lives. This is what makes them thrive and while it may be difficult to persevere and move forward, the idea of living our lives in fear seems even more difficult – to me, anyway.

I have family in one of the locked-down Massachusetts towns adjacent to where the suspected bombers were found. They’re not answering their phone – I haven’t spoken to them today, but I am not panicking, because I have to believe they are alright.

  

UPDATE: I just spoke to my brother. He was driving home from Boston's Logan Airport last night around midnight and saw Watertown lit up with police blue lights from one of the off-ramps, but didn’t know what was going on until this morning. My family is safe and I am thankful for that.

Terrorists Are Cowards

Photo Credit: David L. Ryan, Boston Globe, via Getty Images

Patriots’ Day is a civic observance of the 1775 battles fought in Massachusetts (at Lexington and Concord) that led to the Revolutionary War and the sovereignty of the United States. The Boston Marathon is always run on Patriots’ Day and is the most widely viewed sporting event in New England, attracting 25,000 runners and hundreds of thousands of spectators.

The bombings at this year’s Marathon will forever blur Boston’s patriotic yearly celebration as visions of smoke, debris, and the dead and wounded assault our senses and force us to ask who did this and why the terrorist(s) chose this particular venue at this particular time. Clear visions of 9/11 are also in our thoughts. 

Bombings are the work of cowards who, much like school yard bullies who choose targets they consider weaker than them or chicken hearts who sucker punch unsuspecting victims, target crowds of men, women, and children who are unsuspecting, unprepared, and unequipped for an attack.

Terrorism requires no courage, no heroism, no bravery, no fortitude. Those traits are reserved for the victims, the families, the emergency personnel, the witnesses - the amazing people who manage to jump in and help total strangers during a crisis - the resilient souls of society who somehow manage to go on with their lives while never forgetting the pain, the suffering, and the losses of their fellow human beings. 

Mahatma Ghandi said, “My soul refuses to be satisfied so long as it is a helpless witness of a single wrong or a single misery.” 

We should heed his words.

Boston Marathon Explosions

Words escape me right now, but I offer my thoughts, prayers, and strength to the resilient people of Boston. This is a tragic day for Boston, America, and the World.

I Have Too Much 'Stuff'

Today I decided that I have too much "stuff."

My house is overrun with things I do not need or use, and this weekend I am going to explore the cluttered world that I call home. 

My most valuable possessions are my books, my writing, and my photographs. I don’t consider these items to be “stuff,” I consider them to be part of me, my life, my essence, and I cannot part with them. Instead I will look at the clothes, the shoes, the cups, the plastic containers (should we really be eating and drinking out of plastic?), and the stacks of other items that I have gotten so used to seeing that I really don’t even “see” them anymore.

Like the albatross that Coleridge’s poor Mariner was forced to carry, the psychological toll of having too much stuff has become too much for me to bear. 

Rather than just throw things away, I plan to give away, repurpose, or recycle the things I don’t use or wear or want or need. Annie Leonard created "The Story of Stuff" back in 2007, and her anti-consumerism, pro-environmental sensibilities will serve as my inspiration and my guide to understanding how my ‘stuff’ bogs down my mind and my life. (Thank you, Annie). 

I am determined to clean out the valuable little speck of the world that I inhabit.

Here’s a link to The Story of Stuff Project that is dedicated to helping us learn about the stuff we buy, use, and throw away. (Where does stuff come from? How is it made? and Where does it go when we throw it away?) These are valuable questions with mind-boggling answers.

Chemicals in Shampoo

Considered to be one of the safer and more environmentally ‘acceptable’ shampoos on the market, the unnamed (for legal reasons) shampoo I have been using lists Benzyl Alcohol, Dimethicone, Pyridoxine HCL, Sodium Lauryl Sulfate, Sodium Laureth Sulfate, and Sodium Benzoate as just a few of the chemical ingredients that I lovingly massage into my scalp each day, then rinse down the drain.

This product’s promise of “healthier, shinier hair,” along with the savvy marketing choice of a brightly colored bottle (that conveys fun and health and nature to the buyer) originally lured me in, but are no longer enough to keep me there. 

For the past month, I have been mixing Baking Soda with Water (1 teaspoon to 1 cup, respectively) and using it in place of shampoo. I have found that my hair looks better now that it is sans the chemicals that I really didn’t need in the first place.

I’m not falling for pretty packaging or promises of chemically-induced beauty anymore. 

Here's a pic of my hair. It looks good to me, and that's all that matters.