Tuesday, March 18, 2003

More Smart God, I feel like Larry King now on the Smart case.  He covered it for what, six months?  While listening to some talk radio (sports talk radio, at that), I heard an interesting view that I hadn't considered: Why aren't Elizabeth Smart's parents getting more heat for bringing strangers home with them?  I know, hindsight is 20/20, and I know, we are supposed to help those in need, something I don't do enough of. But come on.  You can't just be bringing people home off the streets.  And I don't want to discriminate against the homeless.  It doesn't matter where you meet people or who they are; you can't just be bringing unknown people to your home on a regular basis, regardless of social status.  I think it's irresponsible, especially when you have kids.  There are a lot of ways to help the homeless without bringing them to your house. One of the radio guys then said, I think jokingly, that maybe the Smarts were just looking to save a few bucks on their roof repair.  If there were even a shred of truth to that, the parents should face a serious wrath.  I doubt that was the case; I suspect they were honestly trying to help a man down on his luck.  Call me crazy, but if I'm affluent enough to own a million-dollar home, I'm hiring a pro to do the work, you dig?  That ain't me on that roof.  But the Smarts did it themselves, with some help from a homeless prophet. Just one of many, many parts of this story I find strange, just because I can't relate to it at all. 2:14:59 PM    Say what?[]

You think having a baby is tough? A Boy And His Dogs.  And Cats.  (And iguanas, piranhas, mice, a bird...) Lessons about life through animals... My first real pet was a large black cat named Jinx.  (I still love the name.)  He slept in the bathroom sink.  He loved to play, but he was the kind of cat you could make turn aggressive if you stared at him, or provoked him.  As I went to bed one night, I played the game where you look over the edge of the bed, then pull back when your cat leaps up at your face.  It's not a smart game, I know.  I was a dumb kid.  We played like that all the time, but that was to be the last time.  Jinx had claws, and I misjudged his leap, and Jinx dug in.  It probably looked worse than it was, but I bolted from my room screaming hysterically, face bloodied.  Jinx was put to sleep two days later.  I was only 8.  I'm sorry, Jinx.  You didn't deserve what you got, and it was my fault. I had a grey cat named Smokey.  He got hit by a car.  I didn't see it happen.  My dad told me about it while I was laying on the couch watching an afternoon rerun of Grizzly Adams.  He was a good kitty.  He loved to snuggle with Woolly, who was our dog at the time.  I never knew cats and dogs could be friends till I saw them together. Then came Lucy, when I was about 12.  We rescued her from my cousins, who abused her.  She lived to be 23; the vet said she was the oldest cat patient they had ever had. When I got to graduate school, I couldn't resist a young stray that a fellow student had found.  I named him Noah.  Soon, my roommates and I were calling him the Shitty Kitty.  Noah liked to eat things he wasn't supposed to eat.  He also had very little use for people in general.  Noah now lives in exile with my parents in Topeka, KS.  After living alone in St. Paul for a year, I decided that a pet might help brighten my days.  So I rescued two cats from a no-kill shelter, Mowwow and Buster.  Mowwow was beautiful, with huge orange eyes and a lot of personality.  Ultimately, Mowwow broke free from a friend's apartment while Jane and I were on a vacation in California.  He had been sick.  It is not certain that he died, but nearly so.  I cried as we searched in vain for him, days after the fact.  I really loved him.  I kept thinking he must have wondered why I would abandon him when he was sick.  Buster is a happier story.  He is still with us.  He is a huge, beautiful gray cat.  He is affectionate, perhaps to a fault.  I have had multiple people tell me they want Buster.  Many of them are even avowed cat-avoiders.  Buster is a magical cat. When I moved in with Jane, I inherited three other cats.  So yes, at one time we had five cats.  It was like the Feline Brady Bunch.  Jane's cats were Walter (a girl), Tino, and Tommy (who was always Stump to me).  Stump was just on load from a friend of Jane's.  He died of a seizure of some kind after we sent him back.  Tino just died last Christmas.  He was a really strong and vigorous cat, but then he got sick, and just wasted away over two months or so.  We had to put him down.  It was hard on Jane.  Linus knew about it, but seems to have forgotten.  Walter is still with us, closing in on her 15th year. And of course, the dogs.  First was Woolly, a stray we found and loved till he died when I was 14.  Then was Nicky, who was that puppy I wanted when I was a kid, only to figure out that I really didn't care one way or the other when I got him home.  Now, it's Maxine.  She is a dog with both faults and charms, but we love her.  Having a dog, especially this dog, was a lot harder than having Linus.  Honest. There were other pets of the less cuddly variety, but they can all be more or less put into the category of "These are not good pets for irresponsible people".  12:23:17 PM    Say what?[]

And So It Begins... The U.S. military will mobilize in a few days, probably on March 20th.  This war, even more than most, has been and will be wedge between the U.S. and the world.  It will also greatly divide us within the U.S.  Although I think the division and discourse are healthy (though the discourse, as directed by the mainstream media is too one-sided towards the Administration view), it's important that we remember that there are people in harm's way. I'm not so much talking about the non-combatants, though certainly you feel for them and hope they are out of harm's way.  I'm thinking about the people who will fight this war for the United States and other "willing" countries.  What must they be feeling right now?  Some can't wait-career soldiers anxious to get back in the mix, or young kids wanting to measure up to heroes past in their family or branch of the service. But many more, I suspect, are wondering how they ended up where they are.  They are willing, but perhaps reluctant.  Reservists who joined for college money, some of whom are mothers and fathers who have to leave young children.  They no doubt understand their obligation.  But that doesn't make it easier to face an uncertain enemy, especially when so many of those who were here 12 years ago now suffer strange ailments and weaknesses that cannot be ascribed to any particular cause. Though some of us may doubt the nobility of this particular war, let there be no doubt about the nobility of the choice they have made to defend our country.  You say it's not "defense" to attack Iraq?  Perhaps it's not, but do you and I really know?  The solider doesn't know, and isn't allowed to ask.  When they submit their lives to the service of the country they take a leap of faith in how they will be used, and many times, only the long view of history can tell us whether that use was justified or wise.  Regardless of what you think of this war, I think it's important to remember that there are people who are in harm's way, from Iraqi children all the way to American mothers and fathers.  And Australians.  And Poles.  It's a long list.  I couldn't be in their shoes. 9:02:57 AM    Say what?[]

© Copyright 2003 Doug Hennessee. Last update: 4/1/2003; 3:15:35 PM.