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. 

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?

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.....)

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

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.

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

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?

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 ....

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'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 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.

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.

I fear for him.  Just between you and I, I am so very afraid sometimes.  He may not be everything that was wished when he was elected, he certainly isn't a savior.  He's a young man - a father and a husband.  He's doing the best that he can and he may or may not be succeeding.  Those are not reasons to fear for his life.

There.  I said it.  Why, in this world of ours, do I have to feel it?  No moment is guaranteed.  But no moment should be threatened by dangerous people with old, used-up ideas of who should lead our country.  Or who has the right to try.  The citizens cast their votes - the citizens declared their choice.  Now some people ... I can't even think of it.

Because I love him. 

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 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.

We dream together.  We experience the useless, wonderous delight even as we walk the streets paved with wishes.  Awakening to the joy and the sadness of our lives ... wondering how to go on and what will make us whole.  How to proceed, how to make our moments matter.

Please allow me to whisper in your ear.  Softly, quietly.  During that split second between sleep and waking ... dreams and reality. 

You are the one person in the world who can make a difference.