Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life
My life is, to me, ripe with frequent challenges, occasional successes, spontaneous laughter, adequate tears, and enough *life* to last me a lifetime. To you, however, it surely seems most pedestrian. And therefore, I recycle the name I used previously and call this my Notebooks of Daily Life. Daily, because it's everyday in nature, ordinary. These conglomeration of events that are my life are of interest to me because I live it, perhaps mildly so to those who are touched by it, and could only be of perverse, morbid curiosity to anyone else. Yet, I offer them here nonetheless. Make of them what you will, and perhaps you can learn from my mistakes.
An RSS Feed is also available.
Monday, June 01, 2009
I hate prop 8.
The governor should say "Equal rights for all".
I have a friend named Benjamin that has two moms that are gay and aren't married and want to get married. I want marriage equality to come back!
We should bring back marriage equality because it's fair and what's fair can make the state a better place!
My son Jared took it upon himself to offer his take on California's proposition 8, the controversial measure that stripped the right to marry from many citizens. This post is part of Blogging for LGBT Families Day.
John came from a fine family -- his faster was a respected businessman, his mother was active in the community, and they were all prominent members of their church. At school, John was a decent student and popular with the other kids.
If you're Jewish, chances are, the holocaust has affected you somehow. If you're Black, it's likely that Martin Luther King Jr. is counted among your heroes. If you're Cherokee or Choctaw, you know the history of the Trail of Tears. But you don't have to be Jewish, Black, or Native American to understand how wrong the Holocaust, slavery and discrimination, and forced relocation are. It seems obvious to us today, but I'm sure there are still those who see Jews, Blacks, and Native Americans as something less than human -- or at least less than themselves. Most people, however, know that it is "the content of their character" that determines a person's worth, not their culture or skin color.
As many of you know, for the past three years I have been writing for the website ParentDish (originally Blogging Baby). During that time, it's gone through a lot of changes in format, style, and personnel. Through all of that, I managed to hang on, despite my notable lack of talent. I was even selected to be one of the writers for the seasonal blog Holidash. On Friday, however, just shy of my third anniversary with ParentDish, I got an e-mail that said, in part, "effective today we will no longer need you working on ParentDish." Ouch.
"Princesses are the most important thing in the world," Sara explained breathlessly. "They make the air for us! They make everything!"
How could I possibly not know that?
So we're at the Hootenanny and the organizer is up front introducing the next band. Sara runs up and tells him something.
"We are going to be late, because you are crazy!" Sara wailed plaintively from the middle row of the minivan.
Actually, that could explain a lot. "I'm not late, I'm crazy."
So I picked Sara up from school and we were chatting about her day. She told me that the day before, she had watched a movie with Miss Juliette and described what she remembered of it. It took me a moment to remember that Juliette had mentioned they watched Mary Poppins but then I asked if that were the movie. Indeed it was.
"Some of the women have been wearing their pants so long that some of the men have forgotten their identity. It's time the men put their pants back on," said Ronald Goodwin of Alexandria.
Do you recognize these names?
They are the leaders of the current swelling of unashamed, even outspoken non-believers who are willing to go on record as not subscribing to the mythologies that have plagued the human race for many thousands of years. They are scientists and philosophers and authors who are no longer willing to stand by and let people get away with saying "a magic man done it" without challenging such claims. They refuse to treat believers with kid gloves as if they were Uncle Harry got loose from his room again and going on about how the aliens kidnapped him. Instead, they call upon the faithful to offer evidence and proof, to question their own beliefs, and to use the gifts of logic and reason they claim their God gave them.
They are, if you will, the prophets of the prophetless.
I am proud to follow in their example.
Recently, I made a comment in response to a webcomic and I think the idea bears repeating, even expanding upon. Here's my original comment:
Weíre not really militant, you know. Itís not that we want to stop people from believing in whatever silly stories they like ó if just that if you turn your brain off, you shouldnít have a say in, well, anything. You donít get to vote, you donít get to be in a management position at work, heck, you donít even get to decide what you can have for lunch. You basically have to go through life with a cork on the end of your fork.
My point is that if you can find your way clear to believe the conflicting and impossible stories in any of the so-called "holy" books, then you are clearly not competent to have a say in how things are run. In fact, I would argue, you're barely competent to manage your own life. Would you want someone voting on matters that will affect you based on the shapes of clouds? No? Well that makes as much sense as any other religion.
And believing that the clouds are signs from some greater power is no less daft than believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful God got so upset that the creations to whom He gave free will actually used that free will, that he had to send his son (who is actually himself) down to be killed to fix the mess.
Now, if you want to believe all that, you're welcome to do so, but don't expect anyone with a lick of sense to take you seriously if you do. Further, don't expect anyone to appreciate it when you try to mess around with other people's lives based on what you think the Magic Man in the Sky told you.
You know, when people say they hear voices that tell them to do things, we usually get them some help or, as a last resort, lock them away before they start hacking the cat (or the kids) to pieces. Except when they say the voice says it's God. Personally, I don't see the difference. Either way, I'd just as soon let you play with your toes over in the corner there where you can't do any harm and leave the running of our society to those who have demonstrated an ability to use their brain to think.
Which leads me to my action point. I think we should start a new movement -- the CorkFork movement -- to get those who are unable to process information and who do not exhibit the ability to think logically some much needed help. And if they don't want help, then to make sure they are able to live out their lives in quiet comfort without bothering the rest of us.
Saturday was a big day for everyone. For some reason, on the day the kids didn't have to be up early, they, of course, were up at six a.m. If you're interested, click on through to read all about it.
She came into view as we rounded the curve. She was breathtaking. Beautiful beyond compare. Quite literally, she brought tears to my eyes, framed as she was against a backdrop of trees and bushes. If you've never felt your heart pounding its way into your ears and been unable to breathe for fear of making such a vision disappear before you have a chance to give your emotions voice, you haven't lived. Dare I say it was love?
I had to mail out the taxes and deposit a couple of checks today and both the post office and the bank are right near the thrift shop... Of course I stopped in! I got a few interesting albums -- ones I didn't have on CD by The Rolling Stones, Genesis, and the Dave Matthews Band, along with a half price ($1.50) copy of music from the Lillith Fair. While those are cool, they aren't the awesome score I scored. And no, that's not redundant.
Put some extra peanut butter on top. I like to do that so if it falls on the floor, there is still peanut butter on it.
I'm not left-handed -- I'm both-handed!