A Year Of Firsts

“You’re father would have so much fun helping you look for car”, my mother said, her eyes welling with tears. Dad had been telling me it was high time I should trade in my Now, just a few months after he passed, I was finally trading in the old rust bucket for a new car. It was something my dad would have enjoyed for sure. It was just of many new endeavors I would take on this year without his guidance and presence. Dad always made things more fun and interesting, even car shopping…

Each statement these days always seems to end or begin with “if dad was still here…” Each time I see or hear a ridiculous news item, which seems to be pretty much a daily event, I am sure he would have sent me an e-mail or phoned me with “what the hell is so and so doing…”. if he was still here. I keep remembering that refrain “if he was still here.”

This year has been a year of firsts. There was my first birthday without him. There was my first Patriots game I watched without him. There is the first holiday without him. There have been so many special moments and accomplishments I have not been able to share with him.

Even the mundane seems much less satisfying knowing that I will never be able to share it with him. Whenever I watch a documentary I think of how much we would have enjoyed talking about it (he would have loved the Vince Lombardi documentary on HBO). Even trying a new type of food or learning a tidbit from a book I just read seems less fulfilling since I cannot share these everyday gems with him. Now, everything is different. Each high point is tempered with the realization that he is not here to share it with me. A permanent void is etched in my everyday life.

When you’re a kid, you always think your folks will always be around. You can’t imagine them not being there. I mean, he was dad. He was indestructible. Bullets would bounce off his chest and his bones would be cast of steel and iron. This belief, perpetuated by his tough as nails image only re-enforced my perspective. It wasn’t until I grew older that I realized he too was human. Even still, as he grew older he was always there helping us work on our cars, installing electronics and utilizing his handyman skills around the house. It made him feel good to know he could help us.

The finality and suddenness of it all is jarring. Yet, even more jarring is that it’s never really ever final. People can go on and live there lives. We can go on and on about closure and the finality of death. But, the only finality is there is no finality. Unless you consider finality the never ending, uncontrollable rage and frustration for what seems like virtually no particular reason at all except the underlying pain. The worst part is there is nothing that can be done to fix it and it will never go back to the way things were. It’s just there. Even this new “normal” is a mere shadow of my life with him.

It may seem ironic that such a common experience, such as loss, is such a private, personal and isolating experience. It really isn’t all that ironic, though. Everyone’s loss is their own loss. It’s unique and personal to them. I could not claim to “know what it’s like” than anyone else could truly know what I have felt. Each loss is individual and unique to that person. So, we really don’t even have that common bond to share with others who have also lost someone .

There will be other firsts in the future. There will be my first Christmas without him. There will be my first time watching our favorite movies without him. Perhaps, there will even be my first wedding and subsequent divorce. He will never meet the various women who may enter my life. He will never meet his future grandson. There are many experiences we have been denied.

Dad would always tell me that “everything that lives die.” when we talked about his mortality. He had come to terms with it . It wasn’t until his death that I was able to consider my own mortality and how I should do some things different in my own life so that I can be the kind of man he was. It was a different type of first. It was the first thing he taught me since he passed.

Disposable Entertainment

We live in a disposable world. Nothing last forever has taken on new meaning in our fast paced, fickle minded social lives.

In this “whatever you like” culture we live in today little is treasured or kept for future consideration. Instead, we are quickly oversaturated with one specific genre of entertainment and then, just as quickly as it became popular it is replaced by the next new thing. We flock to the theaters to watch movies about robots that take over the city and cartoons made for children. We buy into the pre-release media hype and wait in line for tickets to watch a film we will just as quickly forget and replace with the next sequel much to the delight of movie executive everywhere.

Often times, this next “new thing” is just another adaptation of an older movie such as in the case of the “remake” or the “reality show” that is held in the boardroom instead of the jungle or island, with all of the same backbiting and treachery. This is really the crux of what is wrong with us. We, specifically my generation, take so much satisfaction in seeing others fail. We “root” for or against people we will never see, know on any deep level or care to know about.

I can always tell when there is a highly rated television show on by the lack of face book traffic. What is it tonight? “Last Comic Standing”? “Biggest Loser”? In any event what is most disappointing about these shows, or more precisely the viewers of these shows, is that people are taken in and believe on some level they are watching “reality”. Reality shows with dialog writers. The fact we let people manipulate ourselves into buying into such foolery is disturbing.

We live in world of speedy downloads, short term gratification and vapid entertainment. We download music, decide if we like it after a minute or so and quickly delete it. We prefer to make snap judgments rather than considering and really truly letting the music set with us before we make such hasty judgments.

Entertainment, or what passes for entertainment, is like fast food. It’s quick and easy, isn’t particularly good for you and often leaves you with an upset feeling after you’ve consumed it. Yet, much like fast food, we still keep going back to it like some addict waiting for the next staged shocking moment on television.

Of course, the internet is the worst source of such fodder. Perez Hilton and TMZ get more traffic than CNN and The Huffington Post. People pay close attention to what Paris is (or is not) wearing than follow the news of the oil crisis in the Gulf.

Everything is for the moment even in our athletic interests. The once heralded, savior one day is the goat the next day. He or she may be fortunate to redeem himself or herself or be cast aside for the next million dollar hero.

It’s interesting that in a culture that presses for fame and to be known, fame is so short lived. With a glut of wannabe’s and flavors of the week, the stage of shooting stars is often crowded and rarely remembered. Disagree? Then answer these simple questions, without googling the answers. Who won Survivor 3? Name one of the cast members from the 8th season of the Real World. Who won on the show “My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss“? Unless you have a remarkable memory or have consumed your life with memorizing such obscure filler then you’re probably stumped like me.

Our ADHD-like attitude towards entertainment, sports (well aren’t sports really just entertainment also) and news does resemble life in some ways. People come into our lives bringing us joy and light. They touch our lives and make us whole. Then, just as seamlessly they exit, leaving only the imprint in our hearts and minds. They often leave without warning and without letting us appreciate just what they mean to us. Then, we‘re forced to find some other source of happiness and comfort. Perhaps, reality television has it right after all. Everything is only temporary.

Distant Karma

There may be no other largely misunderstood concept than karma, save maybe love. But that is a topic for another day.

Karma has been used to explain away the misfortunes of the uncaring, egotistical villain while suggesting it is a form of reward for the selfless acts of a caring, sincere person.

Yet, what if a selfish, uncaring person does a good deed for selfish purposes? What if someone donates a large sum of money to make themselves feel better, even if they do not announce it to others? Yet, they do not make any real changes to their behavior that may seem less than good natured. We all know more than a few people who donate to churches, charities and other causes only to look down upon the same people they are donating monies to. Buddhism says motives do matter, for the record.

In Hindu-speak, karma is visited o others in future lives. It deals with reward or punishment being meted out in the next life. In actuality, there are many different forms of karma and, just like any other religion or religious tenet you can find a different meaning in different faiths. For instance, in the Western interpretation commonly held by Americans, our actions are rewarded or punished swiftly (at least much more swiftly than in Hinduism). But, getting back to the karma point, if you have a lackluster job, a lazy, ignorant boyfriend or hair that you just can’t do anything with then maybe you weren’t so kind in your previous life.

Karma is really just an easy answer like “stuff happens” or “everything happens for a reason”. It’s an easy one word bumper sticker. It’s lazy intellectualism. I am sorry. That isn’t fair. There’s really nothing intellectual about it at all.

If one were to truly believe in karma then we are to believe someone who enjoys a life of pleasure and leisure is being rewarded for good acts or a good life they previously lived. The true philosophy of karma is that we are rewarded, or “punished” if you like, in our reincarnation not in our present lives.

So, let’s say you are a millionaire tycoon with a wonderful spouse, you have a job you love and you always get the window seat when you fly then you were probably a peach of a person in a previous life. You are being rewarded for some previous life you lived. Maybe you were a community activist or the person who invented fabric softener. Pity, many of the people being rewarded in this life will not be so fortunate in their next life. Consider yourself warned, Lindsay.

Of course according to this philosophy, if you hate your job, hate your spouse/significant other (at least some of the time, c‘mon be honest here), wish you had a few more bucks hidden under your mattress or have a less than glamorous life and you always seem to get stuck being seated between two hairy malodorous people when you fly, like 90% of the people I know, you were probably a jerk in your previous life. Based on my life, I suspect I was either an IRS agent or the Grassy Knoll shooter in a previous life.

Now, that seems hardly fair (as Americans we always vie for fairness). Anyways, we should be rewarded or punished for our present behaviors most would suggest. Enter “instant karma.”

Instant karma is a great John Lennon song but it has little relevance in the true description of karma Of course, as Americans we have to bastardize, twist and re-interpret philosophy, belief systems and, well pretty much anything, into our shallow, empty mindsets.

Not that it matters, but based on this belief that we have that we should do good to get good or have “good energy” come our way is just a little self-obsessed. We donate money not to do good, or at least not primarily for this reason, but, rather for “good karma.” Oh, how white of you. That’s very considerate. I’ll just try to need help when you’re having bad day.

Even if the Westernized version of “instant karma” is true, the examples of it being evident in our lives is paltry at best. Heroes answer cries for help and never return. Missionaries go to help in far off lands and risk their safety. To quote Billy Joel, “Only the good die young”. The bad ones seem to live forever in comfort and happiness.

Consider your everyday life. Anecdotally, we can all think of fine, upstanding, even heroic people who meet untimely and unkind fates. Some of the kindest people I have ever met have not had pleasant, pain free lives. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Most of the unkind, selfish, uncaring people I know lead the most successful, seemingly satisfied lives. Bearing in mind, none of our lives are perfect and we all fall on hard times at some points in our lives, it does not mean I and of itself that we’re all victims of karma.

Presumably, the true philosophy of karma might suggest the kind person who is besieged by tragedy and misfortune was really a bad person in a previous life. The are merely receiving their “karma”

In reality, if one were to truly follow the philosophy of karma then he or she should indulge. Why bother doing the right thing? It’s like when you’re a kid and you are out past your curfew by 10 minutes. You might as well stay out all night and deal wit the consequences later. Do as you wish with little to no regard for those around you . Live a little so long as you don’t mind paying later, much later.

We often cherry pick from theories, concepts and beliefs. So, this is really nothing new or different for us. We suit ourselves with half truths and misconceptions and we’re none the wiser, quite literally. We make things easy to understand so we can digest what happens around us.

Rather than stating the obvious that everyone has good days and bad days and these good days often times coincidence with a good deed that we may have done. Some days you’re the bug and sometimes you’re the windshield. Let us not forget that no good deed goes unpunished, the path to hell is paved with good intentions and all of the rest of the trite phrases that are also common in the karma vernacular.

It’s really nothing short of a lazy, simple way of assigning “bad luck” or misfortune to others, as though such things exist. If someone cuts you off in traffic, then they get into an accident or some other sort of accident befalls them, then it surely must have been “karma.” and not the fact they lack adequate driving skills.

We all have good days, bad days and middle of the road days and moments. Very good, selfless people lead painful, arduous lives. That is the point. Being good and doing the right thing is hardly always easy even if we try to make it seem easy.

Lyrically Speaking...

Glenn Beck finally gets it. Well, sort of.

Yes, Glenn Beck just figured out what Born In The USA is about. Word has it he also just figured out that Trampled Under Foot isn’t really about a car.

In a recent tirade, that I still don’t fully get, Glenn Beck apparently believes Bruce Springsteen is portraying himself as an "unAmerican" critic. He may be partly correct. His song is certainly a criticism. But, does that make him "unAmerican"?

Bruce Springsteen does indeed criticize America as he describes the hardships of a man who fights for his country and continues to deal with adversity when he returns back home to the USA, in a nutshell.

However, once again, Beck gets it wrong. “The Boss” is quite the opposite of an unpatriotic fire bomber. Isn’t addressing such issues and expressing the pain of the downtrodden and questioning your government the highest form of patriotism? Springsteen is given a voice to the many veterans who came home a different person to a much different country.

It doesn’t take a lyrical savant to discern the Boss’ message. Even I knew it wasn’t a “hurrah” song per se when the song was popular and I was a wee lad. But, that is what makes it such a poignant song. It is viewed, by some, as being unpatriotic. But, is it really? Springsteen was bringing attention to the plight of the veterans who returned to the states only to face adversity within their own country.

Twenty six years after it was released, Glenn Beck finally gets it (sort of). He always struck me a slow learner. Of course, this is all just a ploy, as almost all political and radio shows are, to paint Springsteen as part of the “wacko left”. Don’t think for a second he didn’t know better already. Even, I, as a clueless 12 year old knew what this song was about when it was originally released. It’s all a work. Even Beck isn’t that out of touch.

Of course, this is nothing new. If people really listened to lyrics and paid attention to the lyrics of the songs they listened to they may have a very different opinion of the song. On second thought, they probably wouldn’t care. I think the success of Lady Gaga is proof positive that people really don’t care about lyrics. A danceable beat, preferably with lyrics that rhyme (even if they don’t make sense) are all most people need. Yet, I digress.

Another artist that has invoked the wrath of Beck and other right wing pundits is yet another misunderstood artist.

In February of 1940, Woody Guthrie wrote This Land is our Land as a response to Irving Berlin’s “God Bless America”.

Just like everything else, people are quick to jump on Guthrie and others like him without knowing what his perspective was. As he hitchhiked across the states, Guthrie, ruffled by Kate Smith’s peppy rendition of “God Bless America”, saw a drastically different American than the oceans white with foam that she crooned about.

Guthrie’s take was more bittersweet than Irving Berlin‘s song. The picturesque redwood forest, golden valley and gulf stream waters give way to ribbons of highway and dust clouds with a hopeful lifting fog. Instead of counting his blessings, Guthrie saw impoverished families living on the sides of the same roads he traveled. He saw ranchers and farmers eking out a living. He witnessed the lingering suspicion of the original Red Scare. He witnessed a country bringing itself out of an economic disaster. Sound familiar?

The uber-patriotic missive of “God Bless America” to a receptive nation sugar coated what Guthrie and many other Americans saw as a much harsher life. Yet, once again, some people miss the point of Guthrie‘s ditty.

“This Land is Your Land” is not only suggesting how our land is for all of us. It takes on something of a cautionary tone as well. Guthrie was also saying this land is yours but it’s also mine. So don’t muck it up. He was saying it is ours not Procter And Gamble’s or the government’s. It’s for you and me. In fact, in 1944, a verse was found that was originally not included in the song which truly seems to encapsulate what Guthrie was saying:

There was a big high wall there that tried to stop me;
Sign was painted, it said private property;
But on the back side it didn't say nothing;
This land was made for you and me.

Guthrie also kept out a few less subtle verses from his original song:

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

In the squares of the city, In the shadow of a steeple;
By the relief office, I'd seen my people.
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking,
Is this land made for you and me?

Guthrie’s songs are still relevant today as more and more of “our land“ is depleted for corporate interests and Mcmansions. Just insert migrant workers, union busters, corrupt bankers and lobbyists. And pundits and critics still don't get it. Some things never change.

Villians

As I dodged and evaded throngs of little people crying for their mommies, fan boys debating the plausibility of the existence of a platform 9 ¾ and an assortment of other adults who still watch cartoons at the Harry Potter exhibit during a recent visit to the Boston Museum of Science, I noticed all of the time people were spending at the Harry Potter and Hermione (or however you spell her name) exhibits and exhibits of the other “heroes“ of the Harry Potter franchise.

Meanwhile, the exhibits for Voldemort (I mean he whose name should not be mentioned), Malfoy and [insert bad persons name here] just weren’t getting any love. As we were leaving the exhibit, I asked my niece why nobody wanted to spend much time looking save to shoot a menacing glare at their statues. Looking at me as though I just crawled out from under a rock, she quickly informed me that they are the “bad guys” and nobody roots for the bad guys.

*disclaimer I did consult Wikipedia, friends and others for some of these details*

Now, this gave me reason for pause. Well, I was paused because I was stuck between a rotund wizard looking fellow and someone who looked like a hastily put together munchkin. As I waited to maneuver between these two fellows, I began to think of all of the assortment of heroes of mine. Very often, these people could just as easily be considered villains. Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro, Jack Nicholson and Marlon Brando are but a few of the character actors I have always liked. Who couldn’t like them? Everyone knows the bad guys are always cooler, dress better and of course they can drink with the best of them.

Naturally, these are simply actors. Robert DeNiro isn’t really a mobbed up deer hunting bounty hunter in real life. Yet, many of the people who are worthy of our praise aren’t always considered good guys. Nor, should they have to be. Often times villains or bad boys are just misunderstood visionaries. Nicolaus Copernicus, Martin Luther, Socrates and Charles Darwin are only a few of the visionaries of their time whose viewpoints were not readily accepted during their times. Lest I forget Gary Dahl.

So, when anytime anyone accuses me of having some “harebrained scheme” (which is fairly often), I take comfort in knowing the company I keep.

It does give me cause for concern when we follow mob mentality and always root for the squeaky clean guy who is in reality usually merely a goat in sheep’s clothing. Speaking of which, why does the goat get such a bad rap? But I digress. The unfortunate thing is few people step outside of their comfort zones. They root for the home team, like a “good homer”. In short, they never question…anything. They simply follow.

Speaking of being the good “homer”, I could never root against Reggie Miller, even as he stuck yet another dagger into the beloved Boston Celtics. Beyond being a deadly sharpshooter from anywhere on the court, Reggie chastised the crowd, talked trash and, more often that not, delivered in the clutch with a supreme swagger and confidence. He didn't just talk the talk. He walked the walk.

As a youngster I would often spend my summers rooting for Darth Vader, reading Hunter S. Thompson and admiring Tommie Smith’s courage. All of them are villains to some degree. To me, there isn’t any other way to be. How can one always root for the milquetoast “good guys”? They’re predictable, nice, clean and plain. They are dullards.

Everyone thinks they are not conformists and they think independently. The true way to find out if you do not conform is if anyone has ever called you “weird”, ‘wacky” or “crazy”. If so, then welcome aboard.

We often don’t consider that one person's villian is just as much another person's hero. John Adams, Che Guevara and Frank Serpico to name a few were all considered villains by people who opposed their views. Now, many of them are considered heroes. Some so called villains have simply been people with enough courage to think or act differently.

Naturally, we all hate the true evils of the world. There are always group of people we can dislike as a wide group. You know them all by now: the Taliban, the KKK, Nazis and Heidi Montag.

Now, back to the Harry Potter exhibit. After cutting myself short from polluting my niece’s mind with propaganda of rebels and renegades who built this country, I reminded her that her uncle isn’t always a “good boy”.

I always thought youths were supposed to embrace the bad guy. They are supposed to be rebellious and buck the system. A healthy skepticism is a good thing, particularly when it’s against the establishment. It’s fairly disheartening to see that we often stamp out this thought process in younger people in an effort to mold their young minds and make them good citizens (read robotic followers).

Just don’t rock the boat.

Paternal Instinct

It all started innocently enough. A co-worker called to discuss a work related issue. After discussing order numbers, strategies and other topics I would rather not bore you with, the discussion naturally led to how the home team was playing, the weather and eventually his family. After reporting how well his son was doing in school (he had hit the honor roll again), my co-worker mentioned how much his son had been entranced with his new hobby; model trains. Listening to my co-worker discuss his son’s accomplishments with a subtle zeal that only a parent can express, I couldn’t help but to drift to the fond memories of time well spent with dad.

Thoughts of playing catch with dad, unable to feel the biting Northeastern air as we passed through my mind. Memories of casting my line along the still waters of the many Cape Cod lakes, wishing the sun would never set flooded my consciousness. A hodgepodge of memories hit me during my conversation with my loquacious co-worker. Neil Diamond, James bond flicks, memories of stomping out his no filtered cigarettes after he discarded them on the ground (it’s always the oddest things that we seem to remember), they all bring me back to those innocent days.

The bond between a father and child is often a needlessly complicated relationship. Many men may feel the surge of emotions when they consider parenthood. However, such expressions of contentment have been corrupted by one liners born of hack stand up acts and lazy sitcom writers. Of course, there are the typical comments about hoping their son is straight, tough and athletic. The trifecta.

Then, there’s the tired old bit of the father cautiously inspecting his daughter’s prom date while he tried to put the fear of god in said date. These old stereotypes and mores obscure the truly important aspects of the pride of parenthood. Being proud of your child, regardless of their choices and strengths (or because of them), and not his or her proclivities, is what truly warms the heart.

There is a myth that only women have the desire, the “maternal instinct”, to favor the soft pitter patter of children’s feet and the innate bond of parent and child which eclipses any connection known to the childless (if anyone disagrees watch any movie on Lifetime that begins with “Not without my…” and you may change your mind).

Men are said to be disappointed if they do not have a son, although they will never admit it. Men are often depicted as clueless in the ways of parenting with a tolerance time threshold of an egg timer. Men are said to have, and sadly espouse, an intrinsic lack of sensitivity to provide the proper care, support and love for their own. Broadly speaking, men are often considered a provider first and a care giver secondly. This thought process often changes after men become fathers.

To a person, every man I have spoken to that prior to being a father was ambivalent, even downright terrified, at the prospects of fatherhood, changed their tune once they became a father. Yet, as intense as their emotions may soar, it is just as difficult to find one who can fairly describe their joy with any justice. Even those who revel in the merriment of fatherhood find themselves at a loss for words to fairly express the pure emotional bliss they feel.

Naturally, not all men feel this paternal desire. Sadly, many men dismiss their obligations (financial and otherwise) only to continue their pattern of irresponsibility and recklessness. You can find some of these men on "Maury". This lack of caring and responsibility is a mockery to those of us who would only be delighted with the possibility of experiencing the joys and pride inherit in the growth, development and nurturing of his child.

I do my best to be the dutiful uncle. I take the “kids” (my nieces and nephews) to the movies. We go out to the mall. We play board games. In short, we do all the fun stuff together. However, bike riding in the park and weekend trips do not prepare one for the hectic, frustrating and mundane days of parenthood. Yet, the concept that a parent could grow together with child into a family with memories, love and the occasional drama is enough to melt one’s heart.

Each year, my co-worker friend will send me an updated photo of his children. Seeing them grow and the joy that must course through his veins when he considers their accomplishments and their development. Perhaps, one day it will be me waxing poetically about my child.

Another

We always think there will be another. Another kiss. Another hug. Another chance to say goodbye. Until there isn't another.

It's become cliche to say we should value every second we have together. It's become a cliche to say we should cherish our precious moments. But, what is life but one big cliche anyways? We all feel the same waves of hope, despair, joy and hopelessness from time to time.

Where the cliche of our lives ends is when we can appreciate a Monday morning or a Wednesday afternoon when we are stuck in traffic. At the least that particular Monday or Wednesday afternoon can be special and precious because we still have special people with us. In fact, that nerve wracking ride home may be one of the more special times in your life, in retrospect. Things couldn't be any better and we don't even realize it. I, for one, would forfeit anything to have back those special moments.

We seem to think we have a limitless supply of chances to tell others how we feel. We wait for that "right moment" to ask that special person out. Or, we figure we'll always have another holiday to spend together and share our feelings with each other. Sometimes, there isn't another holiday or special moment.

Go ahead. Take the risk while you still can. What is the worst that can happen? A feeling of slight awkwardness, perhaps? An unrequited expression of sentiment? The awkward or embarrassing rebuffed gesture is far less hurtful than the feeling of the unexpressed sentiment. Rejection, discomfort and shame. These are temporary afflictions. They are simply a blow to our egos. The unexpressed sentiment, the "should have's" stay with us forever.

Feelings of embarrassment do not stay with us longer than the empty chair or the lasting regret of never having said anything. Besides, who is really going to care if we were rejected or said the "wrong thing"? Given the Earth is roughly 4.5 billion years old, I don't think it will be a large historical point of reference. It probably won't matter much. Furthermore, who is ever going to say "Remember when I shot down..."? Only a jerk I suppose.

The biggest risk we can take can be telling someone you love them or putting your innermost feelings to light. It isn't easy to tell people what they mean to us. Some people don't share themselves easily. Their love and devotion is understand. We still shouldn't let this stop us. I don't. In fact, many of my e-mail messages have begun, "I know you're going to think I'm a sap but I don't care..."

Don't ever wait for a another chance that may not come.

Hatey

"We have enough problems within our own country."

"Why don’t we help our own before we help other people?"

"Why do we help other people when our own people are suffering?"

Or, perhaps the truly understandably annoyed, "I missed my show because of that telethon!"

Such were the familiar refrains echoed throughout the Internet and in casual conversations throughout various watering holes, dinner tables and other forums of debate.

“Our own” and “us”. The true red herrings of subtle racism and xenophobia. But, let's examine these old standbys of the exclusionist. Who are “our own” and “us”? Are "we" simply limited to some border or territory? Are "we" only limited to people who share a certain background? Are "we" not all “one of us”? Are we to simply use some arbitrary factor such as where we happened to be born to decide who is worthy to be helped? Do we not bleed or hurt any more because we live on another point of the globe?

Before one gets too offended or sensitive over this lack of distinction consider the teachings of any religious figure or even some social and political leaders who would share these sentiments. Would Gandhi only wish for peace and equality for the people of India? Did Dr. King not want peace and good will to all because their feet stood on foreign soil? At the risk of sounding presumptuous I think the answer is a resounding no. It’s just a hunch.

People are people. We all hurt and we all feel pain. In fact, pain and suffering is one of the most basic emotions that bind us. The empathy and desire to help those in need should not stop at our borders either.

Love is another basic component of our lives that bind us. The love for family, the love for our differing religious figures, the love of humanity. Yet, despite this love we all possess inside of us we so often choose exclusion, selfishness and a simmering apathy for others bordering on hate. All this exists simply because of their coordinates on a map? Naturally, there are those who, for fear of confronting their true motives, will dismiss such suggestions. It seems the truth has an even closer border for these folks.

There is pain and suffering everywhere. No matter where you look there are others in need and suffering. This is a convenient excuse for the do-nothingers who criticize others for trying to help. We have actually come to a point where helping others is castigated as being the wrong course of action.

For those who think we should only help "ourselves" it's important to bear in mind we can't even share that sentiment. The lack of desire to help others in need is not relegated to those outside of our borders. After Katrina, earthquakes within our own borders and other unforeseen tragedies, some people have spoken out against sending aid. While it is true we are a giving and caring people, with a few significant exceptions, there are many who think private donations are the only necessary form of aid. However, what is needed to help others is often more than what can realistically be raised through personal donations. There is a time for "us" as a nation to send aid.

I know. I know. Who helps us when we have a disaster? As if it mattered (which it doesn't) lots. After the disaster that was Hurricane Katrina, at least 59 nations and international organizations offered aid to the United States according to blomberg news blomberg news. But, that is neither here nor there. We should be proud of our country for coming to those in need.

Anyone who can look at a fear stricken child and dismiss their pain in the name of only wanting to help "their own" has to be living in a mindset many of us could never relate.

To put it all in perspective, what if that was your child or your friend suffering? What if, hold onto your hat, that was you suffering? I think the matter of where it was that you suffering would mean little if you needed assistance. If that was someone you knew and cared about you would do anything to help them? Then, based on this line of thinking, there is no reason we shouldn't help others in need. For, we are all one. One people with one heart.