Unfortunate Geography?

I was born in Chicago.

If my parents were a tad less ambitious I'd have been born in Florida. 90 miles would have separated me from a life of privileges and rights and constitutions and a life of revolutions and rationed milk and socialized governance. 90 miles would have kept me from having the geographic misfortune of having been born in Cuba and the relative good fortune of being born here.

I wonder if the children in Sudan ever think about their geographic misfortune. Or the children in Rwanda. Or the ravaged Gaza strip. I wonder if all the Canadians and Mexicans who pour over our borders (don't kid yourself, please) and the Chinese who smuggle in and the Irish who sneak by ~ I wonder if all of them think about their problem as a question of geographic malady.

And I wonder how many Americans who gleefully embroil themselves in the debate around immigration know how absurd it is that our current rules don't allow for regular people to come to the U.S. to work, study and take up residence because their geography dictates otherwise. 

I wonder how many know how arrogant it is to behave as if they have some say in who comes and who goes across the invisible line, when just two generations ago all you had to do was have someone on this side of the line extend a hand over it to pull you in. 

I wonder how many of them can trace their ancestry back to the folks who simply took faith, left everything behind in the dust of their sad geography and trailed, traveled and traversed.

Some of those saw these words as they came to our shores.

"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she with silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

They saw a message - a big one - that said, don't worry about your university degree.  Don't mind if you're not washed. Don't believe yourself to be unwanted or unvalued. Indeed, here you are so much more important than all of that. Not only do we want you, we light your path and call to you.

You wouldn't have the inbred audacity to shout against your human brother on the other side of the geographic divide if someone else had not bequeathed that right to you. But why did he give you that freedom? So you could shout down your decedents? The immigrant who comes today tired and poor and wretched is not an opportunist or a lazy social-service taker any moreso than your family was when they arrived. He simply follows you in the path you have worn ahead of him, as you did behind the stranger who blazed it for you or your immigrant ancestor.

So Stop it. Stop it right now. Stop beating her back and shaming him and pushing them away. Truly, they belong here just as you do.

Or change those words on the Lady and reframe the promise of this country. Have you become what we used to abhor?

It is not your geography, alas, that makes you better, nor theirs that makes them worse, off. It is your belief in, obedience to and embodiment of an ideal that we are all, indeed, equal, all worthy and wanted. In the eyes of government, in the eyes of humanity, and in the eyes of He Who gave you eyes there is no better or unfortunate geography. Only those blessed with firm footing on solid ground to reach out a hand across every barrier, the seen and the unseen, to bring in the tempest-tossed and light their way to a new life.

You Asked For It

By request, rails on the following topics – and as a challenge to myself, I’ve included a bonus – rant in prose:

Hear the bell? “Dinner is ready!" Just the words, to keep a tummy steady!

Who doesn't love a ding? "Ding, ding, ding! Ding-ding-a-ling!"

I’ll tell you who! My good friend, "Ding, Dong!"?

A visitor you say? What could go wrong?

Don’t cringe that way When you hear the doorbell ring

After all, every little ding Is a musical thing

It’s a song on a wing A cousin to ping

And that makes it better Than anything!

Of course, once inside

A visitor must abide

By the mudroom rules

Hang hats, please, on hooks, Next to the tools

Coats in the cabinets Colored in neutral tones

Greys and Browns are o.k. In the savviest homes

A wet-safe floor is a must in a room made for mud

And easy-wipe counters to get rid of the crud

Speaking of crud – How ‘bout them 2012 Cubs?

Last year was filled with spilled catches and flubs.

But not this year, no way, no sireee!

This is our year! Can you say WOO WOO WHEE?

There’s no way we won’t take it

I’m right and I know

I’m a Mom. I’m always right

So I’ll see you at the show!

Maybe I’ll arrive in a race car or an old-fashioned trolly?

Though I’m not likely to come with Trixie or Polly

I like my characters with a little more edge

One who can cling, grinning, to a precipitous ledge

Think CatWoman, if think at all, you must

A gal with some shadows

And a generous – um – trust.

As for where I might while away hours

As I wait for the big game

Expect to find me in my kitchen

Where granite counters and cherry cabs reign

To be honest the granite was a boner of a buy

But who knew it then, when I was economically high?

Not me, nor all of the others - Thousands of us suckers

Who wish we could sell that fine granite For a supply of PB and Smuckers

The sandwiches we could make

Would sure come in handy

Since short selling the house

Is where we may land… y

‘Course therein lies the rub, if you follow along

‘Cuz we can’t afford this, though we did nothing wrong

It’s the banks, I shake my fist at the sky

And the congressmen and lobbyists, I shrug limply and sigh

What can we do, but just keep plugging

While we celebrate the Cubs record-high slugging!

If I’m not in the kitchen I’m cleaning the house

Or chasing that God forsaken grey mouse

Who visits twice a season with no invitation

And provides me with endless, manic, motivation

To sweep, mop and vacuum – the latter’s the best

With a Dyson, no question or lengthy contest

That yellow magic machine with the whirly middle

Makes me smile all the while like a cat with a riddle

Unlike that double-park scene Out in front of the school

Though I know why it happens It’s certainly not cool

Too many folks drive, without a place to stop

Coming from work it’s hard to walk, skip or hop

To the entrance to wait for your little lollipop

So we need traffic management

And who better for the job

Than my sharp-witted husband?

Such a smart-alecky pop.

Between him

And some guy named Einstein

He could solve all the world’s problems

By today at four-oh-nine

And he’ll do it while being just as sharp as white cotton

And humble, and sweet, and not at all rotten

As for my precious Lu, remember you’re a copy, darling

And a fuzzy one at best

Maybe you should try again

After you've gotten a little rest.

Better? Do not mess with your Mami, love

Take heed some advice

I’m dangerous with a pen

Really, any writing device

Recall what you’ve heard

Don’t challenge me with a word

Frankly, the idea’s absurd

And the hashtag? Apology preferred.

I've Had About Enough of That

When my mom said that, I knew the clock on her patience was ticking. It was fair warning, so to speak. I haven't heard that little phrase in a long time, as I've long since learned the signs of testing her limits.

This morning, as I read the news, I heard that phrase and it startled me. It was in my own voice.

Did you hear? Michelle Obama's face registered an expression that might have been an eye roll after something John Boehner said? Who cares? So what? I've had about enough of that.

Paul Ryan didn't like everything the President said in his speech? The president is a 'liberal'? (gasp!) Yes. But Paul Ryan also said it was important to be there because he believes in the peaceful and respectful transfer of power. Hey - anyone going to put that clip on the news? No? I've had about enough of that.

Wayne LaPierre believes that the President's inaugural address reflected a hypocrisy, of sorts, in that it called upon the Declaration and the Constitution for inspiration but, LaPierre believes, the President's stance on gun violence is an attack on rights those documents protect. "Words do have meaning, Mr. President" LaPierre said, "And those meanings are absolute..."  Is that right? Ever heard of an amendment? I've had about enough of him.

I'll say again, our forefathers did not have either the right to bear arms against their rulers nor the assualt and mass-killing machines we're producing today and we still won. We won. We won, dressed as farmers and bakers and blacksmiths.  You do not need an AK-anything to win anything. You don't and we can all be reasonable about this issue. I'm tired of hearing otherwise. In fact, I've had about enough of that.


I have an awful lot of conservative family and friends. I love them, adore them, invite them to my house, hug them, eat and laugh with them. I kiss their babies and send them Christmas cards. They are my children's teachers and my cousins and my co-workers. We have a laugh every once in a while when we traverse over common ground and meet at our points of disagreement. So what? We disagree. So what?

A house divided cannot stand. A great Republican said that, and he was right. I agree with him.

The only way we can change the frenzy over the few things that divide us is if we stop giving it attention - positive or negative. Stop watching those shows. Stop responding to those articles. Stop re-posting that garbage on Facebook. Stop, stop stop. I don't want to hear any more of it because none of it fixes anything. What fixes things is working together, giving a little even if you don't like it. Hell - all the married people in this country ought to have that figured out. If someone says something you disagree with or think is a little antagonistic - let it the hell go! Let it go! Still work with that person, still try to meet that person halfway - try to meet him 60% of the way. Try for the love of God and country, try!

The failure to do so leaves us right where we are. And I've had about enough of it.

Just Two

In the spirits of birth and renewal that mark this season I'd like to offer my suggestions for resolutions in similar sets of twins. Just two little things at a time that I'm going to aim to achieve....

Talk less and listen more. I certainly have heard enough of my own voice and I'll bet those around me feel the same way. I'm going to pursue curiosity about others' points of view with greater vigor.

(Now if I could just limit who I have to limit who I listen to. Could everyone please check in with me on what your opinions should be this year?)

Fix what you can and let be what you cannot. It's a tough one, but a recent quote by Helen Keller about how not only heroes move us forward with giant shoves but honest workers also move us with their collective tiny pushes made me think about trying to shove less and push more. I'm sure I've just confused you, but it totally makes sense to me.

(My husband to disregard this statement. The light in the closet ring bells? Well it shouldn't. It should light a bulb.)

Remember and forget. I'm going to take a suggestion about collecting my 'good days' in a jar ~ leaving a note in it when I've had a success or a pleasure ~ so I can remember them.  But I'm not going to do that with my grievances and worries.

(Those I'm going to harp on endlessly until someone comes and carries them off. Anyone? Buehler?)

Be kind and don't always tell the truth. Others in the world may be cold. I can be the constant heat of compassion and understanding I should be when my loved ones come in from a wretched day. If I am another chill, where is relief?

(This does not apply to room cleaning standards or grammar correction, kids. Nice try.)

Be important and don't give yourself such great importance.  We're living in an age, and I work in a field, where self-aggrandizement is encouraged and modeled with some regularity. It doesn't suit me and though I've tried it on for size I prefer an outfit with less glitz.

(Although I don't mind a good sequin. Anyone want to make me a special vest that says "I'm Important" with some sequins on it?)

Love yourself and don't be embarrassed to let that show.  I want to demonstrate to my children that care of oneself is a high priority and must not be driven by an external force. I don't want to think others will think less of me if the new pair of shoes is mine instead of my child's; I sure don't when I see a mom with a new pair of shoes.

(Yes, shoes. I actually do need shoes. The beige ones are crinkling. The red ones, the heel is damaged. The black ones don't have the thingy inside. The chocolate ones are pinchy. The black boots don't keep my feet warm. The other black ones are just - eewwww. Those dark red ones are too slippery. Am I making the case here, or what??)

Lose what you can and keep what you must. This applies to everything - belongings, weight, vices. What I don't need I should stop housing and caring for. What I cannot get rid of, either because it has a use now or a meaning beyond this moment, I must find a way to accommodate.

(Starting with my thighs? No. Starting with that storage room in the basement. ~my thighs breathing a sigh of relief as they have been on this list for a good 30+ years; it's got to be exhausting~ Now if I could just fit myself in the storage room. DAMN. Sorry, thighs.)

And now that I've revealed my full-on schizophrenia - a final word. Really, I'm going to aim to do just two things -

Be better and be grateful. Just those two, at the top of the priority list. Striving is what makes the dull day have meaning and gratitude is what reminds that the dull day is a miracle all by itself. Being better moves everything forward and gratitude makes everything stand still so you can rest and be ready to move again. I am blessed to be as good as I am and I know that because I'm grateful, deeply and really, for all the goodness in my life. So onward, forward, ahead.

I hope the New Year brings you at least two moments of peace and happiness, at least two blessings for which you can rejoice every day and at least two new ideas that offer you hope.

(And two times the resolve I'll need to accomplish even one of the things on that absurd list of impossible goals.)

Happy New Year!

The Second and The First

We're talking about the 2nd amendment now. Again.

And it makes me think about my first conversation on the issue. It was in a fifth grade social studies class at St. Ita's Elementary School. I remember challenging my teacher (surprise!) on why it made sense for a daddy to have a gun in his house to fight a soldier. I told her wars happen on battlefields, not in someone's house, right? I remember this vividly because I didn't have a dad at home most days so I was desperate to get clarification on this point - could a soldier come into my home where it was only me and my mom? Could we get taken to jail by some unknown heathen trying to reshape our government through the capture and torture of my family? Keep in mind that, as a Cuban, the experience of having an armed militia fighting the established government was viewed quite differently in our living room than it was in U.S. history books.

It was all a jumble in my head until ,my teacher said, essentially, this: 'The United States wouldn't exist without regular people having guns.'

Our country was formed through armed conflict. Fighting that did not occur between a formal army and a trained military opposition. Farmers, cobblers, tailors - regular men - pulled themselves together, armed themselves, and created a legitimate (and ultimately prevailing) counter to the trained armies of the British empire. That's some pretty amazing stuff, isn't it? I can't imagine my husband, the realtor, and the neighbor across the street who owns a dollar store, and the guy behind me who's an artist, pulling guns out of closets and fighting the British army today. Can you? And yet our forefathers did that, just as the Cubans did. Whether you like the outcome of one or the other there are some parallels.

And so having discussed this with my teacher, and later with my mom, I walked away simply agreeing to disagree with myself. Part of me felt it was absolutely appropriate for a person to be able to defend themselves against unreasonable invasion by any force - whether criminal or not. The other part of me felt  there was real and mighty danger in allowing anyone to exercise that power because in one case (let's argue the Americans) the result might be o.k. but in another (let's, for the moment, say the Cubans) the situation that survives might be awful. I left it at that for years and years and years - I just didn't think about it.

Then, maybe ten years or so ago, I read an article in the Tribune about a mom who's daughter had been killed at a Kentucky Fried Chicken. The mom had been raising her family in a poor neighborhood when, some short time prior, her son had been gunned down in an act of random gang violence. She took the extraordinary measure of moving her whole family elsewhere, to a place she expected would be safer. Not many have the wherewithal or the initiative to do this but she was determined to assure her girls that they were protected, that she was protecting them. When her daughter was shot and killed at her part time job in this better neighborhood, the thing that struck me - and has stayed with me all these years - is what she said to the reporter - 'I have one baby left. How am I going to convince her that she is safe? That I can keep her safe? I can't.'

That mom's simple but complete pain was indellibly impressed upon me. Nothing is more important than keeping your baby safe. Freedom to own a gun doesn't matter when your baby is dead. Only the freedom to keep her safe matters.

We talk a lot about freedoms in this country. We're free to do this that and the other and we're very insistant about that. What many fail to remember when they're railing about their freedoms is what they trade for the freedom.

You want to be free to walk in and out of buildings without search? OK. Then someone may walk in with a bomb strapped to his chest. We'll take that bet, in most cases. You want to drive around without the police asking you for identification? Yes. Then sometimes, foreign nationals without legal authority to be here will drive down that same street. For the most part, we'll suck that up too. You want a free press? Absolutely. Good. Then you may hear more about Kim Khardashian than a body should ever know. I think she'd agree with that one.

You want everyone to have the right to own a gun - any kind of gun? Fine. Then every so often someone will randomly enter an elementary school and kill babies. OK?

The question this country has to ask itself - and we are, and continue to be - the great self-correctors in governance - is 'Are we willing to trade our babies for the freedom to own any kind of gun?' I can't imagine anyone saying 'yes' to that question, but somehow, some find the way to do so by invoking the 2nd Amendment.

The 2nd Amendment has a good and reasonable purpose - to offer protection to regular people against an unreasonable, armed, threat. In what may be its most profound case of irony to date, it appears this amendment has become the unreasonable threat it seeks to obliterate.

There Are No Words

There are no words to describe this kind of grief. It seems futile to try. So instead of words, I'll offer an experience. Tonight I had the great privilege to enjoy another spectacular concert at my children's elementary school. Boys and girls of the same age as those who perished and suffered under the strain of someone else's pain began the night with a moment of silence, honor and prayer. And then they sang. They strummed, they clapped, they trumpeted and drummed. Into a dark room a virtuous and pure music like only children can offer played for parents and loved ones who surely held their own and all the fallen in their hearts tonight. And among the last notes, a song that sums it up for me. The song was sung by my children and their classmates, babies. Like those who died tonight, tonight and always, they are all mine and they are all ours.

"I did my best, it wasn't much, I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch. I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you. And even though it all went wrong, I'll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah."

Things That Annoy - Random Edition

I hate when the top of the dishwasher is packed front to back, side to side and then there's, like, one pot lid in the bottom rack. So do you run the cycle? Or wait for more dishes and then end up with a sinkful of little stuff that won't fit in the top? No matter what you do you end up either killing an innocent baby whale somewhere or suffering a sinkful of dirty dishes that no one will do until they can load them into the dishwasher.  Not cool.

Teachers, I adore you, you know that. But for heaven's sake, a little warning? If you're going to send my kid home with a project board that's twice her height and four times her width, give me a little notice so I don't have to drive from 7200N to 5200N back to 7200N at $4 a gallon only to show up late for every single thing I'm doing afterwards as a consequence. I hate being late and that dumb board has been in your building since September. I'm pretty sure it coulda waited a day.

Hey, sales guy at the electronics store! When I ask you if your rewards card system is going to send my husband an email about his rewards before I give him his SURPRISE gift, know what the heck you're talking about, ok? I've been saving for months and moving all kinds of pieces on an intricate chessboard to SURPRISE him and you've kind of ruined it in a big way. I'm a little peeved at you, friend and this may mean I won't be back to get that million dollar warranty you did seem to know so well.

Construction traffic? I can't think of a darn good thing to say about you so in keeping with my mother's advice I'm going to remain silent. But I hope you can hear every single one of my thoughts as I sit in parking lot after parking lot doubling for a main thoroughfare in this city during the freaking holiday season. (A little shrill with your rant, ma'am? Yes, thank you.)

About the Lord trying to teach me patience ~ frankly, I know. He's all about the eternal gig and I'm into it, really, but I think we should just call this one a wash. I feel the FF button on the DVR was His gift to me, and me not throttling all the incompetent people I come across in retail is my gift in return. After that I feel like we should just shake hands and walk away on this one. I suppose it's what makes Him different that he keeps trying, but the tests are wearing on my... well... patience.

The Mac vs PC argument in my household has reached epic proportions. The kids actually move away from us when we start. My husband insists that it all boils down to 'user error' when I encounter challenge after challenge with his Mac, but when he fusses over a problem with my PC the trouble is clearly technology/design related. I'm thinking of throwing apples at him when he starts this conversation so that I can show support for his Mac addiction while still protesting in favor of my PC.

I'd list more items here because, well, I have them. Unfortunately I have to go wash dishes by hand so I can empty my sink so my child can use the kitchen to complete yet another project board before we take my husband out to dinner where he will not be surprised by the damn gadget I got him. We'll have to start out an hour early because of all the damn construction traffic that is currently strangling every major street surrounding our home so I'm running out of time. Let's hope this thing posts. I'm using the Mac and if there's one more glitch during this experience I may just fling the damn thing out the window. Lord knows, I'm capable of it because, really, I have no patience.