Is there some planetary alignment that I'm unaware of or have been people been regressing at the speed of light lately?
Case in point: An old friend of mine who I've know since childhood, had a prospective client storm out of his office today when he found out that my friend is black. Even more ludicrous, this potential client was also black. Everybody say it with me...WTF????? In this day and age, does a person's race still mean anything to anyone other than that person?
I've known, befriended, been romantically involved with and worked with people of all races in my 45 years and you know what I've learned from that? People are people. I've been fortunate enough to have traveled around the globe and once again, people are just people. But this doesn't end here.
Another friend, who is also black (or African American or Negro or Person of Color or whatever the politically correct term is this week), has been dealing with a similar issue. My friend, while discussing something with a colleague, had to hear this colleague (a white guy from Idaho) use the word "nigger". My friend was mature enough to not slap the stupid off of this guy's face but in discussing it with my friend last night, I know that it deeply effected my friend.
Now at this point I'm sure many of you are feeling riled up and you should be. But allow me to paint the picture more. My friend in the previous paragraph is also gay. A drag queen by trade. Transgendered if you will. The colleague in question is also gay and a drag queen. I'm sure some of you are now concentrating more on these bits of information than the heart of the problem. Trust me, it's nothing I haven't heard before. "Metzger...why are you hanging out with drag queens? or gay folks? or...or..."
I'm blessed to have the type of mindset that doesn't see color. Nor do I see sexual orientation nor religion nor societal status. I see people. Males & females. I see some people who feel they are one but born another. I don't see this as "odd". I just see them as people. And as such, they are worthy of civility and a modicum of respect. But the bottom line is, people are people.
What is it in the human makeup that makes us think that any one group is superior to another? Sure, there may be aesthetic differences such as skin, hair and eye color...but so what? We may pray differently (if at all) but God is God. You may call him by a different name than I do but it doesn't change the fact that God is God.
A person may be attracted to different people than you are. This world has heterosexuals, bisexuals and homosexuals. Again...big deal! I think it's fair to say that all of us, at some time or another in our lives will want the same things: love, romance, intimacy, companionship...and who's to say whether we should or should not want it with whom we want it with? I'd be willing to bet that there are more freaky normal people anyone suspects. If I were to ask each of you your deepest fantasies, I bet most would fall outside of the so-called norm.
This world is made up of an endless myriad of different types of people...and for that we should be thankful. Rather than looking for the differences, why not look at the similarities. There are tall people. There are short people. Fat..skinny...beautiful...ugly...a lot of these are relative terms. Why not take a moment now and then and try to see the world through the eyes of another. View yourself through other's eyes. I think it might make you think a bit harder about how you react to things.
Remember, your opinion is important only to you. If someone shares it, fine. If someone doesn't, that should be fine too. But why discriminate against a person because they are merely who they are? Doing so limits your own experience in life and you end up missing out on a lot that way.
I'm lucky to know all of the people that I know. Of all colors, religions, genders, sexual orientations, etc. Each one makes my world that much more interesting and for that, I am thankful to know each and every person I know. Like my mother used to say, if everyone was the same...just think how boring this world would be.
Racism, in this day and age??? Really??????
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
You really can't go back...
I spent the past two days in northeast Ohio (where I lived in the second half of the eighties). My time there was personally turbulent but never anything less than interesting (in retrospect).
It's been 21 years since I left there. If I hadn't, I probably would've drank myself to death...period. In the little area I lived in, there were 88 bars (back in the day) and not much else to do. I can tell you, I was drunk in every single one of those bars at one point or other.
To paraphrase Thomas Wolfe, you really can't go back. Just being back where I used to live felt, if nothing else, surreal. I described it to a friend there thusly: "It's like being somewhere you've never been but knowing where everything is". Everything changes...which is probably a good thing...but it was disconcerting to me just how much things had changed. Familiar storefronts bore strange names. The people in the streets looked different. Lots of my friends are gone, and those remaining had been replaced with older, more 'grown up', versions of themselves...for the most part.
For some reason, every hotel room in town was booked up, so I had to go a few miles north to get a room. Even the little town of Strasburg had changed. In short, it made me sad. Like a houseplant left untended, the places of my memories had withered, died and been replaced. I almost felt responsible. I momentarily wondered if I had stayed, would all of the old places and friends still be there? Most likely not...but it was just one of those odd moments that I have all too frequently these days.
But as the day progressed, I accepted the inevitability of change and while listening to a friend discussing some upcoming changes in town, I also realized the necessity of it all. It brought to mind a quote by Anatole France:
"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."
(See! I DID pay attention in college!)
After a longer than usual drive back home, thanks to nonstop rain and some typically slow Ohio drivers, I'm back in my humble hovel and thinking of the changes that have happened to me over the years. I would have to say that I'm a nicer person than I used to be. I don't carry the anger that I used to.
I mentally envisioned the me of today with the me of 21 years ago. Aside from the obvious changes...hair, weight, wrinkles...its almost like two different people. That said, I find myself willing to embrace future changes. As I've grown older and hopefully wiser, I see the inevitable changes in life as adventures...and I'm always up for an adventure. I just usually need a nap before embarking on them now.
The funniest change, at least to me, was in my old neighborhood. I made the familiar left turn onto Ray Ave., drove past my old apartment and on up to the end of the street, where stands a very tiny cow pasture. I used to walk up to see the solitary cow that resided there almost daily. It always struck me as odd that a mere block from my apartment was a cow pasture.
I drove up, stopped the car...and there to my surprise were two cows. Still as lazy as ever, just laying around, but looking content and unbothered by all of the changes going on around them...
It's been 21 years since I left there. If I hadn't, I probably would've drank myself to death...period. In the little area I lived in, there were 88 bars (back in the day) and not much else to do. I can tell you, I was drunk in every single one of those bars at one point or other.
To paraphrase Thomas Wolfe, you really can't go back. Just being back where I used to live felt, if nothing else, surreal. I described it to a friend there thusly: "It's like being somewhere you've never been but knowing where everything is". Everything changes...which is probably a good thing...but it was disconcerting to me just how much things had changed. Familiar storefronts bore strange names. The people in the streets looked different. Lots of my friends are gone, and those remaining had been replaced with older, more 'grown up', versions of themselves...for the most part.
For some reason, every hotel room in town was booked up, so I had to go a few miles north to get a room. Even the little town of Strasburg had changed. In short, it made me sad. Like a houseplant left untended, the places of my memories had withered, died and been replaced. I almost felt responsible. I momentarily wondered if I had stayed, would all of the old places and friends still be there? Most likely not...but it was just one of those odd moments that I have all too frequently these days.
But as the day progressed, I accepted the inevitability of change and while listening to a friend discussing some upcoming changes in town, I also realized the necessity of it all. It brought to mind a quote by Anatole France:
"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."
(See! I DID pay attention in college!)
After a longer than usual drive back home, thanks to nonstop rain and some typically slow Ohio drivers, I'm back in my humble hovel and thinking of the changes that have happened to me over the years. I would have to say that I'm a nicer person than I used to be. I don't carry the anger that I used to.
I mentally envisioned the me of today with the me of 21 years ago. Aside from the obvious changes...hair, weight, wrinkles...its almost like two different people. That said, I find myself willing to embrace future changes. As I've grown older and hopefully wiser, I see the inevitable changes in life as adventures...and I'm always up for an adventure. I just usually need a nap before embarking on them now.
The funniest change, at least to me, was in my old neighborhood. I made the familiar left turn onto Ray Ave., drove past my old apartment and on up to the end of the street, where stands a very tiny cow pasture. I used to walk up to see the solitary cow that resided there almost daily. It always struck me as odd that a mere block from my apartment was a cow pasture.
I drove up, stopped the car...and there to my surprise were two cows. Still as lazy as ever, just laying around, but looking content and unbothered by all of the changes going on around them...
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
I cried today...
Yep...I cried. I'm man enough to admit it.
If you're wondering why (and since you're reading this, I'll assume you do), I'll tell ya. One of my oldest and dearest friends lost his son over the weekend. My friend is obviously devastated. For once in my life, I'm at a loss as to what to say...if anything. I want so bad to be there for my friend, to try to find a way to comfort him. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain and sorrow he is feeling.
It's long been said that its not the natural order of things for a parent to outlive their children. I agree with that. Ever since I found out about my friend's son's passing over the weekend, I've been trying to figure out just what part of God's plan this could be. That's my nature. I figure things out. It's what I do. But this...I have no clue. I'll leave this in God's hands. Its how my faith works.
In an effort to comfort my friend, I offered some verses from the Bible. While I am an ordained minister, my faith has been in question for a while now. As I looked for the right verses and scriptures, I found myself crying. I looked through the Book of Psalms, Luke, Matthew and Ecclesiastes, I found the words I wanted to say. My tears kept flowing. I felt my faith strengthen.
I couldn't recall just exactly what my friend's faith, if any, was...but I hoped that at the very least, he would appreciate the gesture and gain some peace, comfort and strength from the verses. I sent it to his inbox and moments later heard from my friend. I've known this guy for over 30 years. The only time I ever recall him crying was when he thought I was going to die (a story for another day). It breaks my heart minute after minute to think what he's going through...or what any parent who has lost a child must go through. And my tears kept flowing.
I'll be doing everything I can to make it to Ohio tomorrow to be with my friend and his family. There have been many times in my life that they have been there for me. My friend and I have gone through a lot together over the years...good and bad...and sometimes just plain old weird.
I remember his son as a baby. I remember him as a toddler, wobbling around on the floor. I remember him as a child. The last time I saw him, he was a young man. Tall and strong like his dad. He was always a smart kid...smarter than he ever let on. He had a great smile and a great laugh. I also remember practically pleading with his parents NOT to name him "Duncan"! (let's be serious...all of the other kids would have called him "donut" or "yoyo")
Last Thursday, the day before he passed, I thought about him out of the blue. I was surfing the internet and killing time before work and I remembered how as a wee child, he refered to rockabilly music as "rockaberry". I remember how that would just crack his dad & I up. As I thought about this, and other pleasant memories, I posted "rockaberry" on my friend's Facebook page, along with a comment about how amazed I am at the silly stuff I can still remember (despite my brain damage). Less than 48 hours later I received the tragic news.
For the past few hours, my eyes keep tearing up. I'm OK with it. There was a time that I'd never let anyone see me cry or know that I was capable of it. Always too much of a tough guy or the eternal clown. But today, I cried. And I'm sure before this week is out, I will cry many, many more times. I will cry over a young man losing his life way too early. I will cry over the pain and sorrow his parents, family and friends will feel. I will cry at the heartache his fiancee will endure. I will also cry at my own foolishness. My damned German stoicism. My ever questioning my faith.
In shedding these tears, I believe that some light has been shed on the answer I was looking for: Perhaps some people are taken from us to remind us of just what is truly important in life. We all too easily get caught up with inconsequential bullshit that in the heat of the moment seems so damned important. Perhaps this is a reminder, a wake up call if you will, of what is truly important in all of our lives.
Rest In Peace Shane Donald James Robinson. The world was a better place for you having been in it, and its a sadder place with you gone.
If you're wondering why (and since you're reading this, I'll assume you do), I'll tell ya. One of my oldest and dearest friends lost his son over the weekend. My friend is obviously devastated. For once in my life, I'm at a loss as to what to say...if anything. I want so bad to be there for my friend, to try to find a way to comfort him. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain and sorrow he is feeling.
It's long been said that its not the natural order of things for a parent to outlive their children. I agree with that. Ever since I found out about my friend's son's passing over the weekend, I've been trying to figure out just what part of God's plan this could be. That's my nature. I figure things out. It's what I do. But this...I have no clue. I'll leave this in God's hands. Its how my faith works.
In an effort to comfort my friend, I offered some verses from the Bible. While I am an ordained minister, my faith has been in question for a while now. As I looked for the right verses and scriptures, I found myself crying. I looked through the Book of Psalms, Luke, Matthew and Ecclesiastes, I found the words I wanted to say. My tears kept flowing. I felt my faith strengthen.
I couldn't recall just exactly what my friend's faith, if any, was...but I hoped that at the very least, he would appreciate the gesture and gain some peace, comfort and strength from the verses. I sent it to his inbox and moments later heard from my friend. I've known this guy for over 30 years. The only time I ever recall him crying was when he thought I was going to die (a story for another day). It breaks my heart minute after minute to think what he's going through...or what any parent who has lost a child must go through. And my tears kept flowing.
I'll be doing everything I can to make it to Ohio tomorrow to be with my friend and his family. There have been many times in my life that they have been there for me. My friend and I have gone through a lot together over the years...good and bad...and sometimes just plain old weird.
I remember his son as a baby. I remember him as a toddler, wobbling around on the floor. I remember him as a child. The last time I saw him, he was a young man. Tall and strong like his dad. He was always a smart kid...smarter than he ever let on. He had a great smile and a great laugh. I also remember practically pleading with his parents NOT to name him "Duncan"! (let's be serious...all of the other kids would have called him "donut" or "yoyo")
Last Thursday, the day before he passed, I thought about him out of the blue. I was surfing the internet and killing time before work and I remembered how as a wee child, he refered to rockabilly music as "rockaberry". I remember how that would just crack his dad & I up. As I thought about this, and other pleasant memories, I posted "rockaberry" on my friend's Facebook page, along with a comment about how amazed I am at the silly stuff I can still remember (despite my brain damage). Less than 48 hours later I received the tragic news.
For the past few hours, my eyes keep tearing up. I'm OK with it. There was a time that I'd never let anyone see me cry or know that I was capable of it. Always too much of a tough guy or the eternal clown. But today, I cried. And I'm sure before this week is out, I will cry many, many more times. I will cry over a young man losing his life way too early. I will cry over the pain and sorrow his parents, family and friends will feel. I will cry at the heartache his fiancee will endure. I will also cry at my own foolishness. My damned German stoicism. My ever questioning my faith.
In shedding these tears, I believe that some light has been shed on the answer I was looking for: Perhaps some people are taken from us to remind us of just what is truly important in life. We all too easily get caught up with inconsequential bullshit that in the heat of the moment seems so damned important. Perhaps this is a reminder, a wake up call if you will, of what is truly important in all of our lives.
Rest In Peace Shane Donald James Robinson. The world was a better place for you having been in it, and its a sadder place with you gone.
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