Do you know what these buzzwords refer to?
If you don't, let me inform you...
This phrase refers to the consideration of a public option in the health care bill. What does that even mean?
I myself have been digging around to find some answers to this question as I don't completely understand it myself.
Generally the words "public option" have been used by political sides who are both for health care reform. One group, mostly democrats, want to make a "taxpayer-based medical insurance plan" an option for everyone (Greenman). In essence, this plan would compete with private insurance companies for business. Check out this article:
(http://www.nydailynews.com/opinions/2009/06/19/2009-06-19_whos_afraid_of_a_public_option_health_care_debate_is_stuck_on_a_strawman.html)
Pitting government health care insurance against private insurance companies? What do you think?
According to my own understanding, private insurance has only gotten MORE expensive and tends to continually cover less and less. Perhaps they could use a little competition from the government?
Here's another entertaining reference to the public option:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMuZWSvlIMY
I suppose I wouldn't make so much to-do about these things if I didn't know how widespread their effect can be. So I'm choosing to fight in small ways and hope that others are inspired to do the same.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
NewsWorthy
I recently watched the new documentary by a certain Mr. Moore entitled "Capitalism".
There were many interesting facts and points in this movie, however, what I mainly gained from it was that for a while I have not had any clear ideas about what is really going on in our government and country.
For example, did you know that recently some "rogue" democrats attempted to commit voter fraud by falsely filling out absentee ballots for residents who never actually filled out any such ballot? (Fox News)
Or that President Obama attempted to essentially boycott Fox news from interviews with key people because of their viewpoints on certain issues? Lucky for Fox all the other news networks stood up for Fox essentially because they all felt that no matter Fox's viewpoints, the President had still crossed a line. (http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/10/23/eveningnews/main5415921.shtml?tag=stack)
Another plant is closing down in Iowa, in Webster City. Over 800 jobs are going to Mexico where workers are paid $2.50 an hour. Because of the unions, workers in Webster City were paid over $16.00 an hour. (http://www.desmoinesregister.com/article/20091024/NEWS/91024005/1001/)
Perhaps Mexicans would be better off going back to Mexico. At least they would have a job, only if it does only pay $2.50 an hour.
And you know the irony in all this, the workers in Webster City weren't even outraged or surprised, they knew it was coming. Although the news is disappointing, no one even thinks to bat an eye.
I recently watched another documentary on HBO about the clothing and fashion industry and with shows like "America's Next Top Model" and "Project Runway" one would gather the impression that the glimmer of fashion is lucrative and well off. Not so much. The documentary "Schmatta: Rags to Riches to Rags" documents the growth of the garment production in New York and the eventual failure of the factories as everything was outsourced. Now, about %5 of all clothes bought in the US are made in the United States. No big deal, though, right? ( http://www.hbo.com/docs/programs/schmatta/synopsis.html )
Does anyone ever stop to think about the fact that America is setting itself up for failure? We have imposed many sanctions in the past on other countries whose policies or actions we didn't agree with. We had the power to do so because of our production. But what would happen if suddenly these countries producing all of our goods suddenly decided to impose sanctions on us? Who would remember how to make cars, clothes, toys, machinary?
In Miami many condos and homes are sitting empty as a result of foreclosers. You would think someone would be around to buy up the properties. Not so much. Instead these homes sit empty and people are starting to take back what the banks have taken from them. By squatting, by protesting, by remaining in their own homes despite the foreclosures and evictions. And how are local authorities reacting to people who enter and live in borded up homes? They aren't. ( http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=385x264995 )
There is a rally in Chicago I wish I could go to on Tuesday. Although I cannot attend, I will be following the events closely. Check out what's going on at http://www.showdowninchicago.org/
Whatever your viewpoints, it's important to at least try and sort through what's going on and take a stand for something. Because we, the American people, are the ones who are losing out. We are losing our jobs, our homes, and our sense of independence. Your job may be next. As may your home.
Take a stand.
For something anyways.
There were many interesting facts and points in this movie, however, what I mainly gained from it was that for a while I have not had any clear ideas about what is really going on in our government and country.
For example, did you know that recently some "rogue" democrats attempted to commit voter fraud by falsely filling out absentee ballots for residents who never actually filled out any such ballot? (Fox News)
Or that President Obama attempted to essentially boycott Fox news from interviews with key people because of their viewpoints on certain issues? Lucky for Fox all the other news networks stood up for Fox essentially because they all felt that no matter Fox's viewpoints, the President had still crossed a line. (http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/10/23/eveningnews/main5415921.shtml?tag=stack)
Another plant is closing down in Iowa, in Webster City. Over 800 jobs are going to Mexico where workers are paid $2.50 an hour. Because of the unions, workers in Webster City were paid over $16.00 an hour. (http://www.desmoinesregister.com/article/20091024/NEWS/91024005/1001/)
Perhaps Mexicans would be better off going back to Mexico. At least they would have a job, only if it does only pay $2.50 an hour.
And you know the irony in all this, the workers in Webster City weren't even outraged or surprised, they knew it was coming. Although the news is disappointing, no one even thinks to bat an eye.
I recently watched another documentary on HBO about the clothing and fashion industry and with shows like "America's Next Top Model" and "Project Runway" one would gather the impression that the glimmer of fashion is lucrative and well off. Not so much. The documentary "Schmatta: Rags to Riches to Rags" documents the growth of the garment production in New York and the eventual failure of the factories as everything was outsourced. Now, about %5 of all clothes bought in the US are made in the United States. No big deal, though, right? ( http://www.hbo.com/docs/programs/schmatta/synopsis.html )
Does anyone ever stop to think about the fact that America is setting itself up for failure? We have imposed many sanctions in the past on other countries whose policies or actions we didn't agree with. We had the power to do so because of our production. But what would happen if suddenly these countries producing all of our goods suddenly decided to impose sanctions on us? Who would remember how to make cars, clothes, toys, machinary?
In Miami many condos and homes are sitting empty as a result of foreclosers. You would think someone would be around to buy up the properties. Not so much. Instead these homes sit empty and people are starting to take back what the banks have taken from them. By squatting, by protesting, by remaining in their own homes despite the foreclosures and evictions. And how are local authorities reacting to people who enter and live in borded up homes? They aren't. ( http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=view_all&address=385x264995 )
There is a rally in Chicago I wish I could go to on Tuesday. Although I cannot attend, I will be following the events closely. Check out what's going on at http://www.showdowninchicago.org/
Whatever your viewpoints, it's important to at least try and sort through what's going on and take a stand for something. Because we, the American people, are the ones who are losing out. We are losing our jobs, our homes, and our sense of independence. Your job may be next. As may your home.
Take a stand.
For something anyways.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
Babies.
As of this month I will have gone to three baby showers. Awe. One for my good friend. One for a coworker and one for a cousin. I went to target and got little booties and other gift registered baby things.
The irony of this all is that at my job early in the mornings I work with infants every day. And it turns out they are not so scary as I once thought. Granted, my current expertise are two-three year olds, but I do love the babies too. I have never thought so much about pregnancy, babies, and motherhood!
Although I know I'm def. NOT READY for the HUGE responsibility that comes with birthing and raising a child, it's def. something I'm able to picture more easily. Minus the birthing. Of course.
I am happy and excited for these new moms and I'm so very excited to babysit for my friend Sarah when her little one happens along. To hold brand new life in my hands reminds me not only of where I come from, but also of how fast it all goes. Even my two and threes grow bigger and change every single day.
Even I am getting older too.
Someday I'll have white hair and be all wrinkly and unable to do much for myself. We all return to where we started. My hope is that I will look back on my youth with humor and kindness toward myself and be able to see that somehow my mistakes were made into miracles. And that in turn, I can tell my grandchildren about the young me and all things past. And they will shake their heads and go "whatever grandma".
As of this month I will have gone to three baby showers. Awe. One for my good friend. One for a coworker and one for a cousin. I went to target and got little booties and other gift registered baby things.
The irony of this all is that at my job early in the mornings I work with infants every day. And it turns out they are not so scary as I once thought. Granted, my current expertise are two-three year olds, but I do love the babies too. I have never thought so much about pregnancy, babies, and motherhood!
Although I know I'm def. NOT READY for the HUGE responsibility that comes with birthing and raising a child, it's def. something I'm able to picture more easily. Minus the birthing. Of course.
I am happy and excited for these new moms and I'm so very excited to babysit for my friend Sarah when her little one happens along. To hold brand new life in my hands reminds me not only of where I come from, but also of how fast it all goes. Even my two and threes grow bigger and change every single day.
Even I am getting older too.
Someday I'll have white hair and be all wrinkly and unable to do much for myself. We all return to where we started. My hope is that I will look back on my youth with humor and kindness toward myself and be able to see that somehow my mistakes were made into miracles. And that in turn, I can tell my grandchildren about the young me and all things past. And they will shake their heads and go "whatever grandma".
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Circles
Sometimes my thoughts chase in circles and I wonder
And wonder if everything is actually going to work out.
Because some part of me still doesn't know.
I think a lot about things.
About how things change
And how some things don't.
About old friends and how
They have changed
And haven't.
I don't know if the
Changes will mean good
Or bad things for any of them.
Yet it seems we've all lost our idealism somewhere
Between the here and there.
Youth passes us by in a flurry and
Even I don't feel young anymore.
Though some would call me so.
I look on with weariness at the paths
I've chosen and haven't chosen.
It is a hard thing sometimes
To try to look back and
Forward at the
Same time.
There's this part in the Bible
Where the main theme is
Everything is meaningless.
I feel overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed with the kids in my
Room
Who at two or three
Have more tragedy and hardship
Than I.
And they have no control or
WORDS to put to it.
Their sorrow and pain
Comes out in cries and screams.
In opposition to anyone
Who might care for them.
They've already learned to
Not trust.
Not speak.
Not hope.
I feel overwhelmed.
Because they are so little
And I can do so little.
My heart wants to
Protect them.
To shelter them.
And tell them
They will be OK.
But I don't know that.
I can't say that.
And as far as I can tell,
It won't be OK.
How can we just say
It's sad.
Why doesn't their suffering
Touch a corner
A mere corner of our hearts.
Although whose to say it doesn't.
They are just all depending on me it seems.
All those little ones.
Every day.
And every day I try the best I can
To love them and teach them.
Is that enough?
Is it ever enough?
I go to bed searching for answers
Searching for ideas.
Searching for explanations and
Getting up the next morning and worrying
About them all over again.
I know they aren't my burden to carry.
Yet when they look to me for everything,
I don't feel I'm enough.
So my thoughts go in circles.
As I realize yet again,
I can't save them.
I can only love them for the time
I see them.
And wonder if everything is actually going to work out.
Because some part of me still doesn't know.
I think a lot about things.
About how things change
And how some things don't.
About old friends and how
They have changed
And haven't.
I don't know if the
Changes will mean good
Or bad things for any of them.
Yet it seems we've all lost our idealism somewhere
Between the here and there.
Youth passes us by in a flurry and
Even I don't feel young anymore.
Though some would call me so.
I look on with weariness at the paths
I've chosen and haven't chosen.
It is a hard thing sometimes
To try to look back and
Forward at the
Same time.
There's this part in the Bible
Where the main theme is
Everything is meaningless.
I feel overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed with the kids in my
Room
Who at two or three
Have more tragedy and hardship
Than I.
And they have no control or
WORDS to put to it.
Their sorrow and pain
Comes out in cries and screams.
In opposition to anyone
Who might care for them.
They've already learned to
Not trust.
Not speak.
Not hope.
I feel overwhelmed.
Because they are so little
And I can do so little.
My heart wants to
Protect them.
To shelter them.
And tell them
They will be OK.
But I don't know that.
I can't say that.
And as far as I can tell,
It won't be OK.
How can we just say
It's sad.
Why doesn't their suffering
Touch a corner
A mere corner of our hearts.
Although whose to say it doesn't.
They are just all depending on me it seems.
All those little ones.
Every day.
And every day I try the best I can
To love them and teach them.
Is that enough?
Is it ever enough?
I go to bed searching for answers
Searching for ideas.
Searching for explanations and
Getting up the next morning and worrying
About them all over again.
I know they aren't my burden to carry.
Yet when they look to me for everything,
I don't feel I'm enough.
So my thoughts go in circles.
As I realize yet again,
I can't save them.
I can only love them for the time
I see them.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Cargo Pants and Tears/Are there enough words?
I have this friend who always used to wear these cargo pants with all these pockets. She wore them so much that it became part of what I associated her with. Pockets, baggy, cool, cargo pants. Her up-to-date phone would always be stored neatly away in one of the pockets and her wallet always in easy reach in a back pocket.
Don't ask me why I remember these particular things. I could say something about someone else who matches and is always cute looking. Another friend wears long skirts and shirts. Loves head scarves and comfy but interesting shoes. These are things I remember. I store away.
In any case. I have never owned a pair of cargo pants and have lately become interested in fashion. Mostly because I discovered I have a love of skirts. This discovery has led me to think that perhaps I like other things that would be considered "cute". or "fashionable". So once in a while, I find a shirt in a store considered fashionable that is my style. In such a store I discovered cargo pants on sale. Automatically I thought, cool! I picked out a color and tried them on and transformed myself into a cargo-wearing lady. They are just the right amount of baggy and tight. Just look good enough to make me feel "cool". But part of me thinks that the reason I really wanted them was perhaps as a tribute to my friend who lives in another state and who I think of often. I was never the cool girl, never really the one that got invited, and never really felt sad about that. But. When my mom died, this friend invited. And that to me. Is enough.
Tears came flowing down today because I watched a video about some parents whose son had gotten killed in a head-on crash. As I watched their raw emotion, my own tears came unflowing and I wept. My grief flowed over me and there was nothing to hold back. I cried. I can't believe it's been four years. Can anyone ever know how that is? To just cry. I've been holding back those tears since the date. Perhaps thinking, it's been this long, maybe I'm OK. But my heart still feels torn to pieces sometimes when I think about it. When I think about my family. My sobs and cries seem to go on through the years as a young girl's heart turning into a woman's mourns her mother's absence.
So I put on the old music. The music I listened to over and over and over again whenever I would feel sad about my mom. Music by Matt Kearney, a song by Superchick. Songs that brought about tears and songs that I could turn up loud and maybe drown out the overwhelming grief. To listen to them again is a reminder. A reminder of her. And a reminder of the impact she had on my life. A reminder to grieve when my spirit needs it. I have pain. I carry scars. And sometimes I feel so lost and sad. Without her. But I am still OK. My smile and my passion for the kids carry me through. Having someone whose been willing to walk a very difficult road relationally with me and loved me through it all reminds me to remember mom in a humble and move-forward kind of way. Nothing will ever change the pain of my mother's death. And
I still miss her.
How I wish she hadn't missed out on these last four years. How deeply I wish she could have seen me grow. I wish I could call her up and ask her about life. Though these are wishes, don't get down on me for wishing. These thoughts are fleeting and tomorrow is a new day.
Don't ask me why I remember these particular things. I could say something about someone else who matches and is always cute looking. Another friend wears long skirts and shirts. Loves head scarves and comfy but interesting shoes. These are things I remember. I store away.
In any case. I have never owned a pair of cargo pants and have lately become interested in fashion. Mostly because I discovered I have a love of skirts. This discovery has led me to think that perhaps I like other things that would be considered "cute". or "fashionable". So once in a while, I find a shirt in a store considered fashionable that is my style. In such a store I discovered cargo pants on sale. Automatically I thought, cool! I picked out a color and tried them on and transformed myself into a cargo-wearing lady. They are just the right amount of baggy and tight. Just look good enough to make me feel "cool". But part of me thinks that the reason I really wanted them was perhaps as a tribute to my friend who lives in another state and who I think of often. I was never the cool girl, never really the one that got invited, and never really felt sad about that. But. When my mom died, this friend invited. And that to me. Is enough.
Tears came flowing down today because I watched a video about some parents whose son had gotten killed in a head-on crash. As I watched their raw emotion, my own tears came unflowing and I wept. My grief flowed over me and there was nothing to hold back. I cried. I can't believe it's been four years. Can anyone ever know how that is? To just cry. I've been holding back those tears since the date. Perhaps thinking, it's been this long, maybe I'm OK. But my heart still feels torn to pieces sometimes when I think about it. When I think about my family. My sobs and cries seem to go on through the years as a young girl's heart turning into a woman's mourns her mother's absence.
So I put on the old music. The music I listened to over and over and over again whenever I would feel sad about my mom. Music by Matt Kearney, a song by Superchick. Songs that brought about tears and songs that I could turn up loud and maybe drown out the overwhelming grief. To listen to them again is a reminder. A reminder of her. And a reminder of the impact she had on my life. A reminder to grieve when my spirit needs it. I have pain. I carry scars. And sometimes I feel so lost and sad. Without her. But I am still OK. My smile and my passion for the kids carry me through. Having someone whose been willing to walk a very difficult road relationally with me and loved me through it all reminds me to remember mom in a humble and move-forward kind of way. Nothing will ever change the pain of my mother's death. And
I still miss her.
How I wish she hadn't missed out on these last four years. How deeply I wish she could have seen me grow. I wish I could call her up and ask her about life. Though these are wishes, don't get down on me for wishing. These thoughts are fleeting and tomorrow is a new day.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Four
My mother died 4 years ago today.
I can't believe it has been that long.
It's funny how life continues to push you forward.
In any case,
I miss the person that was so proud of me.
I miss the person I felt I could relate to the most in my family.
I remember the last time I talked with her.
I remember the worry head-aches I constantly had my sophomore year at college because I didn't know when the cancer would win.
I remember the daily phone calls from my dad updating me on the status of things.
I remember getting called on a Thursday with the news that she was in the ICU and could die anytime.
3 seems to be the magic number. It's the number of weeks we knew about the cancer before she died.
It was a crazy, mixed-up time.
My friends put up with my moody grief. With my daily depression. With my lack of care about anything. Despite the fact that I hated life at the time, they still invited me. Constantly invited me.
And as I dug my way through a myriad of emotions, they sought to sit with me, hug me, talk to me. When otherwise I would have been alone.
One of my good friends even wrote a song for me.
"Set me high upon this rock"
OK so it was about Hurricane Katrina as well, but you know, I inspired some of it.
I am at such a different place in my life. No longer in college. Full-time job with the cutest kids I know. In a relationship.
It's strange to think my mom has now missed four years of my life.
I know she wanted to be there for me.
I know she would so be here if it was possible. I know she'd say she was proud and tell me she loves me when I call her and send me postcards.
Sigh.
I'll never have anyone like that in my life again. No one could ever do her job or play her role in my life. That empty spot still sometimes feels like a gaping hole.
There will always be a piece of me that misses her.
Today I honor her by remember those pieces of her that are pieces of me.
I can't believe it has been that long.
It's funny how life continues to push you forward.
In any case,
I miss the person that was so proud of me.
I miss the person I felt I could relate to the most in my family.
I remember the last time I talked with her.
I remember the worry head-aches I constantly had my sophomore year at college because I didn't know when the cancer would win.
I remember the daily phone calls from my dad updating me on the status of things.
I remember getting called on a Thursday with the news that she was in the ICU and could die anytime.
3 seems to be the magic number. It's the number of weeks we knew about the cancer before she died.
It was a crazy, mixed-up time.
My friends put up with my moody grief. With my daily depression. With my lack of care about anything. Despite the fact that I hated life at the time, they still invited me. Constantly invited me.
And as I dug my way through a myriad of emotions, they sought to sit with me, hug me, talk to me. When otherwise I would have been alone.
One of my good friends even wrote a song for me.
"Set me high upon this rock"
OK so it was about Hurricane Katrina as well, but you know, I inspired some of it.
I am at such a different place in my life. No longer in college. Full-time job with the cutest kids I know. In a relationship.
It's strange to think my mom has now missed four years of my life.
I know she wanted to be there for me.
I know she would so be here if it was possible. I know she'd say she was proud and tell me she loves me when I call her and send me postcards.
Sigh.
I'll never have anyone like that in my life again. No one could ever do her job or play her role in my life. That empty spot still sometimes feels like a gaping hole.
There will always be a piece of me that misses her.
Today I honor her by remember those pieces of her that are pieces of me.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
voice in the desert. Hope.
You once called him
"The voice of one calling out in the desert"
Where are You?
I feel and see a weariness in my spirit.
I want to save the world and be
That voice.
I see my friends going places unsafe
Tears run down for them
As I fear for them every night.
I know I'm not their Savior
But then again,
Who is?
I'm trying so hard to find You again.
In the midst of this desert and these questions.
To lose faith
Is to lose Hope.
I can't save everyone.
I can't convince anyone.
Yet my spirit and my soul grieves for them.
I want to let this be that and
Be content to let them
Live as they choose.
I pray daily
And yet they would turn
Their backs on those prayers.
For reasons I can't grasp.
Is it so easy?
To run from You?
I am mocked for my faith.
In the background and
Then again on endless pages.
Indirectly.
I am seen as a bigot.
A hypocrite.
Two-faced.
By pointing to Christ,
I am seen as the enemy.
I haven't seen anyone else volunteer to
Hang on a cross lately.
It might be,
Nothing against Christians...
Or.
As long as you don't state your views...
We're OK with you.
Perhaps I am simply perusing the other side of things
For the first time in my life.
And after repeated travels into that side,
I am dying for a taste of authenticity again.
For a small taste of the honey of hope on my lips.
A bit of living for something true and deep and rich.
A belief in a love
That transcends understanding.
Of words that jump off of a page
And cut to the heart.
Living for something more.
You may have your hopelessness.
Your reckless living.
I do not walk away because I am better than you.
I walk away because I admit
I need something to hope in besides myself.
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13
"The voice of one calling out in the desert"
Where are You?
I feel and see a weariness in my spirit.
I want to save the world and be
That voice.
I see my friends going places unsafe
Tears run down for them
As I fear for them every night.
I know I'm not their Savior
But then again,
Who is?
I'm trying so hard to find You again.
In the midst of this desert and these questions.
To lose faith
Is to lose Hope.
I can't save everyone.
I can't convince anyone.
Yet my spirit and my soul grieves for them.
I want to let this be that and
Be content to let them
Live as they choose.
I pray daily
And yet they would turn
Their backs on those prayers.
For reasons I can't grasp.
Is it so easy?
To run from You?
I am mocked for my faith.
In the background and
Then again on endless pages.
Indirectly.
I am seen as a bigot.
A hypocrite.
Two-faced.
By pointing to Christ,
I am seen as the enemy.
I haven't seen anyone else volunteer to
Hang on a cross lately.
It might be,
Nothing against Christians...
Or.
As long as you don't state your views...
We're OK with you.
Perhaps I am simply perusing the other side of things
For the first time in my life.
And after repeated travels into that side,
I am dying for a taste of authenticity again.
For a small taste of the honey of hope on my lips.
A bit of living for something true and deep and rich.
A belief in a love
That transcends understanding.
Of words that jump off of a page
And cut to the heart.
Living for something more.
You may have your hopelessness.
Your reckless living.
I do not walk away because I am better than you.
I walk away because I admit
I need something to hope in besides myself.
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13
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