Category: Serious

If I am ever killed by terrorists, please say a prayer for me and my family. You can pray to God or pray to Allah. I will take prayer from any place that I can get it.

Don’t say that my life was cut short. My life has been lived to its fullest. I already live my life like there might be no tomorrow.

If I am ever killed by terrorists, please do not be afraid. They want you do be fearful. I want you to be emboldened.

Don’t cancel your travel plans. Don’t censor your own speech. They want you to be quiet. I want you to be loud.

If I am ever killed by terrorists, please do not give up your freedoms. They want your government to place restrictions on you. I want you to keep restrictions on your government.

Don’t become bitter. Don’t become cynical. They want you to be broken. I want you to be hopeful.

If I am ever killed by terrorists, please do not give up America. Our country, as it was originally founded, is more important than any single one of us. The United States of America is the single greatest social experiment that this world has ever known.

Do not sacrifice your liberty for me. Do not sacrifice your liberty for anyone. They want you to be in a perpetual state of lockdown. I want you to be free.

 

Twelve people were killed and another eleven were injured yesterday after an attack on Charlie Hebdo magazine in Paris, France by Islamic militants.  This was clearly a revenge killing of these brave French editorialists for the repeated illustration of the Prophet Muhammad and Islamic leaders in a negative light.

These journalists had the courage to republish the controversial Danish cartoons a few years ago, which drew the ire of Al-Qaeda and put them on the terrorist’s “most wanted list”.  Almost all of the other news organizations in the world did not show these controversial yet newsworthy pictures over fear of a backlash.   The editors of Charlie Hebdo practically stood alone in defiance to Al-Qaeda’s fear mongering.   Yesterday, these same individuals were left lying alone in puddles of their own blood.

Immediately after this violent attack, people all around the civilized world suddenly rose up in vocal support of these journalists.  Citizens all over the planet stood as one and shook their fists at these violent extremists.   Good finally stood up defiantly against evil…. and it was all for nothing.

These journalists needed our support while they still had a pulse.   They required our unity while they were still breathing.  Retroactive bravery requires no actual courage.  If anyone out there wants to honor the memory of these brave reporters, then I have a simple suggestion.  Let these fallen heroes rest in peace for now.  You should instead plan to vocally support the next courageous individuals who come along and stand unwavering in the face of terror.

My son is about to turn eighteen years old.  He is a straight A honor student and he just recently scored a 33 on the ACT.  Colleges are currently fighting for him and offering him academic scholarships. My son was raised by two family practice doctors.  Many of our friends are also doctors.  His grandfather is a doctor.  He has been surrounded by doctors for all of his life.  Someone recently asked him if he was going to follow in his parent’s footsteps and go into a career in medicine.  My son laughed and said he had not yet decided what he wants to do with this life.  The only thing he knew for sure is that he did NOT want to be a doctor.

Over the past century, someone who grew up in an environment like my son would have most likely become a doctor.  They would have at least seriously considered it.   There is a growing number of young people in our society who are currently hearing the horror stories regarding the practice of medicine in an over-regulated environment.  The best and brightest are being frightened away.  The schools that educate our next generation of healthcare providers will have no choice but to start lowering their standards as our nation’s need for healthcare providers increases.  Less intelligent people will eventually gravitate towards this profession purely for the financial rewards.   The best and brightest will be bright enough to go elsewhere.

The only advice I would have for the next generation is to make sure that you do not get sick in the future under any circumstance.  If you think healthcare is bad in the United States right now, then I have news for you… you ain’t seen nothing yet.

Apparently, I look like a terrorist even though I come from a peace loving family of Italian immigrants. I have a thick black beard and a skin tone that gets very dark in prolonged sunlight. Because of the way that I look, I have undergone extra scrutiny ever since the terrorist attacks of 9/11.

When my family goes through the airport together, I am often told that I have been randomly assigned to be pulled aside for extra screening. Others around me watch as I get frisked and sometimes even briefly detained. Black people, blonde people, and red heads get to walk right past me. The TSA wants to hear how I speak. I currently have one of the cleanest criminal records in the United States, but I am unfortunately still often treated like a criminal when I attempt to walk through an airport in my own country.

I have no idea what it feels like to be black in the United States, but I am very aware what it feels like to be profiled. But the sad fact is that people who look like me are much more likely to blow up an airplane than people who don’t. The painful truth is that it is not the fault of the TSA that they sometimes look at me and suspect that I might be a criminal. My problem is that too many middle aged adults with slightly dark skin and thick black beards do not know how to behave themselves in a civilized society.

With all that being said, if the TSA proceeded to choke me to death because I momentarily flailed my arms and refused to be frisked at the airport then those same officials deserve to go to prison. If I were profiled and killed undeservedly and a grand jury found everyone involved to be not guilty, other middle aged men with slightly dark skin and black beards would start questioning if they too were now expendable in our society.

Terrorists who look similar to me brought this problem to my doorstep even though I personally did nothing to deserve this. Because of this fact, I refuse to direct my anger towards law enforcement who sometimes treat me like a criminal even when I am innocent. I choose to direct my frustration and anger towards the lawless black-bearded sociopaths whose actions resulted in this unfairness and undue prejudice being directed towards me in the first place.

Unfortunately, the real reason behind a person’s own prejudice and racial fears in the United States is a conversation that far too many of us are afraid to have. Until we open up and begin to engage in a grown up conversation about the real problems going on deep within our culture, this great nation will continue to suffer. Until we all take an honest look at ourselves and how each of us individually contribute to the problem, this great nation will continue to be divided.

Do you all realize the “crime” that Eric Garner was accused of committing? He was not accused of stealing cigarettes. He was not selling marijuana or any illegal substances. He was simply buying a legal product and then selling it for a different price in another location. This is what sports arenas do when they sell you an eight dollar can of beer. Wal-Mart engages in this practice when they acquire products wholesale and sell them for higher prices. This practice is usually not considered illegal in a free country.

New York puts a thirty cent tax on every single cigarette that it sells today. Mr. Garner was simply buying cigarettes in a cheaper location without this tax and then selling them in New York City. New York politicians did not want to have compete with Mr. Garner’s business model so they made his business model illegal. It is perfectly legal for an individual to drive to New Jersey and buy cheaper cigarettes for themselves yet somehow it is illegal for Mr. Garner to provide this exact same service for others.

The next time you start arguing that Mr. Garner should not have been resisting arrest, please try to remember this in context with the crime of which he was accused. Your government wants you to submit to authority without question. The police want you to obey. They say that it doesn’t matter if you did anything wrong… just get on your knees and put your hands over your head. Politicians and authority figures are increasingly treating your constitutional rights as a nuisance that should be ignored under certain conditions.

What if a SWAT team kicked down your door in the middle of the night because you downloaded a movie or mp3 illegally? What punishment would you deserve if you flailed your arms for a few seconds in protest? Can you imagine if this same group of five police officers had tackled and killed a small blonde fourteen year old girl running an illegal lemonade stand the same way? What about if this had happened to a seventy year old silver-haired grandmother accused of jaywalking? All of these crimes are just as bad as the one that Mr. Garner was accused of committing.

Eric Garner was as husband and a father of six. He was not a perfect person but none of us are. Not only did Mr. Garner not deserve to die that day, he did not deserve to have five police officers hold him down like a dog. New York City could not compete with Mr. Garner’s business model. The powerful people of New York City wanted their tax revenue… so they made Eric Garner into a criminal… they hunted him down… and then they killed him.

Then a grand jury tells us that there is nothing to see here.

Government officials tell us to just “move along”.

Just pause for a second and think about that.

When I think about this quietly to myself… I can’t breathe.

It was simply a change in our daily routine. My son was almost six months old at the time and my wife usually brought him to daycare each morning.  My wife had to go in early one day because one of her patients had gone into labor and she asked me to take care of our child. I placed my infant son in his car seat in the extended section of my large pick up truck and I left the house. My son sat quietly in the back of the vehicle. My mind began to drift to the many problems that I was going through at work. I drove through the sweltering August heat right past his daycare. I went to the drive thru at a local coffee shop for some coffee. I continued to drive all the way across town to my clinic.

I parked in the back of the doctor’s parking lot and gathered my things. With my white coat in one hand and my coffee in the other, I closed the door to my truck and turned towards my workplace. I walked a few steps away from my vehicle as I reviewed in my mind what I had just seen in my peripheral vision. “What did I just see?”, I quickly asked myself. I saw my lab coat, my coffee, the car door, and a quick glimpse of my infant son still sitting in my back seat! I immediately returned to my truck and found him still smiling and cooing to himself. I had come within an instant accidental glance of leaving my newborn infant to die in a hot car. The mere thought of this possibility immediately brought me to tears. With both hands trembling, I took my child out of the car seat and I hugged him.

I will now occasionally hear about parents who will accidentally leave their children in a hot car to die. I listen to people refer to these parents as monsters. I hear people say that the parents should be placed in a hot car and left there to die themselves. I promise you that every single one of these unfortunate parents were absolutely sure that they would never be one of those brainless idiots until they actually were. These terrible news stories instantly take me back to what was almost the very worst day of my entire life. Each time I hear about one of these parents, I simply close my eyes and say a little prayer for them… and remind myself that there, but for the grace of God, go I.

Some people are simply stuck in hollow marriages
They stopped loving, honoring, or cherishing each other long ago
They share the same living space in sickness and in health
But they feel alone in their own homes
They cling to the promise of “till death do you part”
Like that was the only line of the agreement
They discontinue all intimacy
And sometimes even sleep in separate beds
They tell themselves they are better than their divorced counterparts
And wear their anniversary number like a badge of honor
They take something that is old and empty
And try to convince themselves that they have something beautiful
Some people will admire this from the outside
But in the inside there is nothing there
It exists only for others to observe and admire
Like an old dusty Faberge egg

In the 1980s, Nelson Mandela along with the African National Congress were listed as terrorist threats according to the United States. This means that if our predator drone technology had been available over 30 years ago, that our nation could have very well been responsible for assassinating one of the most transformative and influential people of a generation. Take just a moment and think about that. Over the past twelve years, we have given up far too much power to the executive branch of our government. We cannot continue to define our country as being in a perpetual state of war in which the routine rules of justice and morality no longer apply. The next Nelson Mandela of the world may already be in our crosshairs.

Before you go wishing anyone a “Happy Kwanzaa” this week, allow me to let you all in on a little history lesson. Kwanzaa is a completely fake holiday invented by a violent felon named Ron Everett in the 1960s. He grew up on a poultry farm in Maryland and eventually changed his name to Ron Karenga. He was once charged with torturing members of his own cult. He eventually declared himself a “cultural nationalist” and began to teach others about the ancient African tradition of Kwanzaa which was completely made up out of his own crazy head. Kwanzaa is as much of a national holiday as “Festivus” from the old Seinfeld episode. So remember, if you wish someone a “Happy Kwanzaa”… the joke is on you.