A Week of Bad News

People strapped bombs to their bodies, and set out to do as much damage as they could a week ago, Friday, November 13 in Paris.  Just as I did after 9/11, I withdrew from society and watched all the news I could about the destruction.  I have seen French news reports being cautious about blaming refugees for the violence, and United States governors (31 U.S. governors) have signed declarations to refuse entrance to any Syrian  refugees.  I have heard presidential candidates say they would refuse shelter to three year old orphans.  I have seen social media posts angry at President Obama, because he has not turned Syria into a glass parking lot, at a minimum.

I have heard about hackers who have taken it upon themselves to take down ISIS propaganda from the internet.  I have seen Christians who are begging people to follow their faith instead of their fear to welcome those running toward any country of freedom and safety, including our own.

There is a multi step procedure for legal entry into our country for refugees.  I tend toward a sympathetic response to people displaced by war and violence.  I would welcome refugees from Syria, and other people who practice the Muslim faith.  I have made this known in conversations with those who would isolate the United States from all Muslims.

My father grew up in a country at war with the United States,  He came to the United States as a young man having lost his home to U.S. bombs, and lost his country to the violent and repressive Nazis.  He served in the U.S. Army before he could even speak English very well.  His brothers also established their families here in the U.S.  The family has done well, and is now on it’s third generation of Americans.

I think offering the same opportunity to others who seek freedom and opportunity is the right thing to do.   I also think we should use every tool  we have to fight ISIS.  This includes the use of rhetoric and being a light of freedom to the people of our enemies, and those trying to escape them.

 

 

 

So Spoiled

Its another Wonderful Wednesday and time to be grateful for how darned spoiled I am.

It is a beautiful summer day, and listening to NPR this morning, I heard stories of the struggles of Syrian refugees.  Here I am in the land of plenty, and taking full advantage.  I live in a home where I feel completely safe.  I feel no need to be armed.  I feel no fear to walk down the street, not even at night in most neighborhoods, in most anywhere in the country.   I can say whatever I want and express any opinion no matter how many others disagree with me, I don’t even have to be particularly nice about it.  Being nice helps if you want people to stay and listen, because where I live we can just walk away and stop listening.   These rights extend to social media, where I have blocked several sites from even appearing on my home page.

Another way I am spoiled is with good medical care.  Despite ongoing political wrangling over medical care, and the rare  published statistic on how Americans may not have the best health care in the word, I have grown accustomed to having a pill to cure most any ill readily available.  When a pill can’t provide a cure, a fairly safe surgical procedure usually will.  I get down right testy when a solution to any health problem is delayed.  I am old enough to remember how polio sent fear into my parents, and measles mumps and rubella were taken very seriously.  I remember the vaccination party where my friends and I were the first to get our sugar cubes as soon as they became available.  So I have a little annoying cough.  There is a vaccination for those scary diseases, and there is a pill, ointment, or wash for most things that people just had to suffer with in the past.

I am also spoiled with a multitude of pets.  Well, currently four pets.  My newest pet (notice how possessive I am) is Shadow who keeps me company while I write, watch TV, or sleep.  Each animal has their place.  Penny, the elderly lady of the house, sits at my side while I read or watch TV, with Shadow in her place either on my lap or on the back of the sofa near my head.  Brutus Buckeye’s place is Hubby’s lap.  Blue, our other cat, walks alone, except for requiring daily petting, and someone to open the door for him.

Yes, I really am spoiled.  I just expect that this is how life should be.  True I did plan and work for what I wanted, and I protect what I have.   It is difficult to believe not everyone is as lucky.

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