Many of you probably saw Countdown with Keith Olbermann last night.  I hope that most of you are aware of the fundraising project they started for The National Association of Free Clinics ( http://www.freeclinics.us/ ), and have at least considered donating.  It's real, it's working and it's all about us taking control when our government seems to be dragging its feet.  While people are dying.

The following is a write-up by Countdown producer Rich Stockwell, who attended the free clinic in New Orleans, LA on November 14th.  If nothing else, it's worth a read.  Perhaps it will be worth your time to put your money where your mouth is and donate.  I did, and will continue to do so whenever and as often as possible.  It is a crying shame that Americans have to take care of each other as our Congressional leaders line their pockets and play partisan politics.  Or is it our greatest triumph?  Our truest voice to the world that we will not let each other suffer?  We will not lie down and ignore reality even if our so-called leaders dismiss our anguish?

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/33975919/ns/msnbc_tv-countdown_with_keith_olbermann

** I'm amending this as a call for action.  We were able to get Dickday a new computer, we were able to fund people when we needed them to go to DC in our name.  It is time to do it again.  On a bigger scale, for a bigger reason.  Individually.  Collectively.  If a reason exists ... this is it. 

I'm sorry, Mommy.  I didn't try hard enough, I didn't do enough to make it better.  I let you down and I scared us both.  Fear was more than either of us could tolerate.

Can you forgive me from where you are?   Can you still love me?

I'm sorry, Daddy.  I tried too hard to make it better, I only made it worse.  We are still family ... still blood.  Yet it runs through the cracks in the sidewalk.  Like ink staining the very ground under our feet.

Do you understand me now?  I doubt it, but may I still believe in you ... in us?

I am wondering, watching and waiting.  I am young enough to live, yet old enough to imagine the beauty of death.  Those that are close to the final crossing will say goodbye with a smile and a handshake - a nod and nothing else.  A final goodbye.  A last kiss-my-ass, see 'ya.

I wonder if you will go into that last goodnight peacefully, or fight with all your might?

Consider this:

We bring our troops home from war, we welcome them with open arms.  We cry, sing, rejoice and embrace the knowledge that we are one.  We are Americans.  We take care of each other and we support our former soldiers in uniform - salute them as Veterans and mourn them as fallen Memorials.  Each has a Special Day. 

Our Veterans Administration is overwhelmed.  The flow of money dries as it dies.  Long lines of wounded minds and bodies form just as quickly as the piles of the dead who choose another option.  The Private Option.

Unless they fail.  Then they're in jail.

The Government is frustrated; it's incapable of putting together a bipartisan bill (even as they struggle to juggle the words) and the numbers keep growing.  Damn it.  How are they supposed to cover every one of these needy people?  There is no money, no honey in the beehive.  Taxes aren't the answer - no sir!  Tomorrow, tomorrow, we love you tomorrow ...

Hundreds of thousands more on the streets.  Families devastated.  Time is awasting, pasting the cracks in the sidewalk - the cracks we once hopped over to save our mother's back.  Can we save her children?

If they all come home, are we honestly ready to take care of them?  If the Powers That Be don't believe It and are not willing to prepare for It, are they not curious enough to be serious?  We are already in dire need of a far-reaching and Universal Healthcare Plan.  I heard Those Words somewhere ... a semi-lifetime ago. 

Do the Math. 

Why does it really take so long to sing the song to Bring Them Home?

(Insert your favorite song here.....)

As reported on Rachel Maddow's show a few minutes ago - according to the AP, President Obama has rejected all Afghanistan options given to him. 

Now what are we to think?

Dover ... Fort Hood ... Arlington ...

So much death, loss, suffering and waste.  Enough tears to drown out the drums of war, sufficient anguish to blanket the anger and hate.  How many more lives must be lost in the name of an unnamed freedom?  Why must our children be sacrificed on the alter of a democracy that barely exists on our own shores?  Who ever in a million years of hell thought it a good idea?  What horrors must we, here at home, face daily before it is time to say enough?  When will we learn?

Please, President Obama, find a way to bring our troops home before the next bullet, the next bomb.  Then, once home, give them the help they will need to keep from exploding themselves.  As a country we are in peril when our youth is in need.  These young people who are fighting so hard are in need of softness, quiet and peace.  We owe them no less even as they deserve much more.  More, Mr. President, more.  They need home.

I don't know what this piece of unconfirmed news means.  But I believe in my heart that he's thinking and feeling about the rules and guidelines of war.  Yet, he is also feeling the weight of the dead and moments-away-from-dying.  The pain and the loss, the families and the extraordinary toll it is taking on our country as a whole.  And not just ours.  I do not envy him, as we may well already be damned.  But just suppose for a moment that we're not?

No fanfare, and only one video that I've seen.  President Obama honored the fallen returning to Dover Air Force Base with a solemn salute.

I can't help but wonder what was going through his mind as those flag draped coffins passed before him.  Imagine standing in his shoes at that moment ... the darkness of the early morning, the weight of being Commander In Chief.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/10/29/dover.bodies/index.html

Imagine that.  No matter what happens down the road, I consider this a victory.  While cartwheels aren't yet recommended, take a moment to feel proud.

No ugly signs.  No screaming (okay, some singing ...).  No guns.  Just guts.  And a hell of a lot of work by a hell of a lot of "little people".  Let's step it up from here, liberals - we've just begun to fight.

Now this is how you do it.  Make your point in a classy, non-threatening way which still grabs attention.  Republican obstructionists and Blue Dogs take note: we're not stupid.  And we have the ability to not only remember ... but to vote.

Abilities tend to strengthen when stretched - much like muscles.  We just need to exercise. 

http://www.ourfuture.org/blog-entry/2009104323/singing-health-care-reform

I need to open up tonight.  My living room full of cobwebs, dust and memories.  My sofa which needs, frankly, a butt or three upon it.  My pillows that need fluffing and a generous hug or two.  Your words in my ear, the sound of laughter in the air.  Music floating like cottonballs.  Crickets in the background, a sweet southern breeze wafting through and a thunderstorm threatening in the distance.  I need friends who bring goodies and ideas, gossip and smiles.  The front door is wide open to all - hi there, come on in.  

It's late, I know.  But whenever you wander in, please know that you're welcome to speak your mind or keep your silence.  I want nothing more than your presence.  And to give you a place to find comfort, peace and whatever else you might need on this evening. 

May I get you something?

Let it be.  It's done.  President Obama has won the Nobel Peace Prize.

I congratulate him and am proud of all of us.

Just stop the fighting, people, just stop it now.  What's the point?  To prove your opinion is better than theirs?  Absurd.

I might be simplistic; I am perhaps childish, at best.  I believe that honors should be endowed to those that are humbled by them.  I believe that recipients of prizes should be grateful.  And I believe that those who awarded the Nobel Peace Prize to President Obama knew he would be both.  Even more ... that , just maybe, he would take it to mean what it does.  What is that?  Don't you know?

Volumes of words have been written since the notification, and I have no desire to repeat them in depth or otherwise.  They obviously speak for themselves.  It really doesn't matter if we wind ourselves up in a ball or fight to release ourselves from the fiber - we are still Americans.  Or am I dreaming again?

So let's remember what matters.  Let's remember what our country means.  Let's get past the stun-moment of the day and contemplate the importance of tomorrow.  It just might make a difference, and it just might make the United States, and it's President, worthy in the eyes of those who still don't quite see the possibility.

But it's really nice that most do.  It's really amazing that we're back, that we're better.  And by "we" I mean all of us, every single one.  We're not all the way there, we're not even echoing our promises.  Still hollow at best are we, still shouting from the rooftops.  With no one to listen. 

Ahhh ... take a breath. 

Imagine that.  We're finally listening.

So are ....

I just can't believe this.

No public option?  Seriously??

I have believed in you, President Obama, through thick and thin.  And it's been pretty thin, of late.  But I have believed.  I have had hope, I have supported and I have closed my eyes.  Okay, no single-payer.  I swallowed hard and decided I would get behind the public option.  We can't do everything at once - right?  So I used reason and reality to understand.  I got there - I worked with you.

No more.

No more.

I should be sleeping.  Yet things are on my mind, and tossing while turning doesn't help.  If he was awake I'd be talking to the man who loves me.  If he was here - or there, but awake.  Much of what's bothering me revolves around his absence; but that's none of your business and not the point of this particular rant.  Or non-rant since I don't do them well.  Consider it a thought in the middle of the night.  Just a moment in time ... okay!  Relax, will ya?  I'm getting to it.  Patience, people!

I'm just so tired of the shit.  I'm just so tired of the shit.  For emphasis:  I'm just so tired of the shit.

And just for good measure, I'd like to see all the Republicans who aren't willing to come up with an idea of their own to just go fuck themselves.  Right now.  Do not pass "Go", do not collect $200.00.  You had over eight years to do something, anything.  You suck.

People who are on Medicare and crying foul: get a grip, will you?  It's a government run, "socialist" program.  Want to give it up?  Crickets.  Goddamn crickets.  My 78-year-old mother would like to tear what's left of your hair out.  Stand still, bastards.

Can't even bother to consider single-payer because it's too expensive??  Screw you and the horse you rode in on.  Think about the money that could be saved, the hours that are now spent pouring over private insurance paperwork.  Ask a doctor with a private practice.  Ask a hospital.  Ask any freaking body with a clue - the easiest paperwork with the most immediate results is Medicare Insurance.

Let's not forget the "death panel".  During Medicare reform in 2003, many of the same who declare that end-of-life decisions now mean that Granny will be slipped some pills were all for a "living will".  Fuck them.  They were all about money - even then.  The only reason they thought it was a fantastic idea was because it would save Medicare (government) money.  If they've decided that they don't want prolonged care ... yeah!!  Now?  Death Panel = Obama will kill anyone over 65.  Please tell me that means I can kill those Republicans if I'm on the panel.  I have a list.  They're not all old, and they're not all dying.  Yet.

I need sleep, and need to be at work at eight in the morning.  I'm also uninsured.  My small business employer offers no healthcare - but better wages than most.  Enough to pay for my own?  No.  I don't blame my employer.  I just don't understand why the fuck I pay taxes and still can't be covered by the very plan that every provider prefers, and everyone close to 65 waits to receive.

Forgive me.  I'm sorry for being politically incorrect.  Did I mention fuck that, too?

I'm just so tired of the shit.

We can not win when going in and out again.

We do not succeed when the flower fights the weed.

We will not exalt when the victor is at fault.

We are the future.

You can not be The One; a daughter or a son. 

You do not eat the sour with it's bitter taste of power.

You will not kill the beast while they enjoy the feast.

You are the future.

I can not begin to know the hatred some dare show.

I do not cater to those who must wait until later. 

I will not hesitate to borrow the hopes of our tomorrow.

I am the future.

My name is Michelle.  You may have heard of me, but likely only because of my husband.  While I am a strong and independent woman, a good mother and a loving wife - I don't mind taking a step back tonight.  Letting him be the subject.  Because I love him.

He is the man of my dreams, the man I fell in love with so many years ago.  Before he was worth the world's admiration ... before he felt the wrath of his job.  When his hair was still black and his thoughts were multi-colored.  When ideallistic dreams filled his silly young head and the future of this country consumed him.  When his laughter filled a room and his smile lit my heart.  Forgive me for going on, it's just because I love him.

These days, the man I knew before is still there.  He is trying so hard to do everything he can for these United States he now leads.  He stumbles, he falls and he makes huge mistakes - all enough to make him wonder sometimes if he's really good enough.  If anyone is.  I try to assure him, to tell him that he is a good man and that's what this country needs.  And not just because I love him.  Because it's my country too, and I need him.

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They're fighting.  And as much as high minds might prefer to dismiss their absurd and rediculous tactics - they appear to be slowly but surely gaining ground.  Shake our heads, we do.  Roll our eyes and let out deep sighs.  Deep and loud enough to be almost as absurd as their shouts, but only almost.  For our expressions of disapproving exasperation cannot begin to match their insolence.  So why do we think they will?  After all, we don't mean harm.  We don't mean to call to arms a group that are at best ill-informed ... at worst, dangerously destructive to our country and our Constitution.  To our way of life and to our President.  We understand that differences of opinion are vital and necessary to preserve our freedoms, we want nothing more than to hear all voices.  

Who are we?  We are the people of the United States of America who still believe in truth and justice for all.  We are Republican and Democratic, Independant, Libertarian, Green and unaffiliated.  We are all races and creeds, all denominations and those who proudly claim none.  We are male and female, rich and poor, sick and healthy, surrounded by those who think as we do or are alone in our opinions.  We are married and single - some waiting for the day that the law will catch up with reality.

Who are they?  No different than "we".  And that is what we need to remember.

So what do we do?  There is much at stake, much to belabor and for which to fight.  It appears to be two sides that must come to blows until the last one is standing.  Unfortunately, alone and completely out of breath and ideas regarding how to proceed in a logical manner.  Ideas that will last longer than it took to come up with them.  Ideas that just might be best for -dare it be said?- everyone.  Aren't we the ones who claim to be so inclusive?  Ahh.  I guess it all depends on whether "they" agree with us.

So again - what do we do?

Sometimes I imagine President Obama wishes he was born in Kenya.

Where are you tonight?  I'm weaving throughout your dreams, mystified by the depth of the confusion.  You would explain it if you could - I know you would.  But you're fast asleep and your eye is twitching.  Not both, just one.  Odd. 

Where are you going tonight?  Your legs are in motion, yet your body is moving on a different plane like the very idea of following yourself is impossible.  You would explain it if you could - if you knew.  But you're fast asleep and your tongue is slightly hanging out.  To the right.  Interesting.

Where have you been tonight?  I'm floating and shape-shifting, trying to catch up with the you who flies.  You would explain it if you could - you're too free.  But you're fast asleep and your sighs are audible.  Snoring, maybe.  Interpretation.

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