It seems to me that the further down the road we go in time, the lazier we become, especially in the United States.  It has been a while since I have been to a foreign country, but thanks to the wonderful world wide web, I have many friends and acquaintances around the world.  Through them I see other views and customs.

In the past few years in Second Life, I have seen people’s names diminishing rapidly.  At one time people seemed to address another person by the first three letters of their first name.  Now, they just address them by their first initial.

My nom de plume is DL Bach.  I am also known by other names.  My real first name is Debbie.  Sam is a nickname given to me by others I worked with because there were three women named Debbie in our group of ten.  In Second Life I am Parker.  A friend in Paris did a play on my pen name and calls me DeeEl.  I like this.

Debbie is a shortened version of my real name Deborah.  If you really don’t like me and want me out of your life, just call me Deborah.  I will be gone faster than you can repeat it.

There is one person I know in Second Life who has given to call me JJ.  Now, my last name in Second Life begins with J, but for the life of me I cannot understand why this person calls me JJ even though I have corrected them several times.  I generally use a person’s full first name in Second Life to address them, unless they ask me specifically not to.

There are times when nicknames (usually shortened versions of a given name) are used to be endearing.  For instance, my Second Life name is Parker and most people call me Parky.  This isn’t much shorter, but it is fun and playful.  Then there are the nicknames that have nothing to do with a person’s name at all, such as my nickname of Sam or when people call a loved one Boo or Woobie, etc.

A while back (when I used to work), I was screening a movie or something and two men were discussing nicknames.  One was Russian and the other American.  The American asked the Russian if names didn’t work the same way in Russia being that you shorten them when speaking to or about a loved one.  The Russian replied that occasionally it does work that way, but usually the nicknames are longer for someone you love.  His rationale was that when you are saying the name of someone you love, you never want it to end.  This is where I am.

In real life when I am introduced to someone, the manner of introduction will usually dictate how I address the person.  Until I am invited otherwise, I will usually address them as Mr./Ms. So-and-so.  I hold to the old way of respecting people.  I do not infer intimacy, I wait to be invited in.  When I worked in the prison, my first day of training, I met the head of the prison and when he introduced himself and we were chatting he asked me to call him by his first name.  My manager, later, tried to write me up for insubordination for calling the director by his first name.  The director chastised the manager instead.

When you are invited to the inner intimacy of speaking on first name basis, it is a trust that has been earned, not invaded.  This is a matter of respect.  So if you think so little of me and the speaking of my name repulses you so much that you reduce me to a mere letter of the alphabet, then I must reconsider the intimacy I have allowed you to share.

It is seen all too well the bullying in schools.  When it happens in homes it is labeled abuse and the law will step in IF the victims dare to speak up.  In the work place it bears a more subtle hand.  Then you have governments who go into other countries and strong arm the opposing government and bully them into submission.  Governments also bully their citizens with brash laws meant to fortify the leaders and leave the general population in ruin.

In January, I wrote a poem called Bullied.  I took from my own life as well as things I see around me and on the news to write this piece.  I must say it was a difficult piece to write and felt a great relief when it was finished.  

This type of behavior in any form and at any level is appalling and immoral.  But, there is something that is just as bad, if not worse.  Even though it is so prominent, and known, bullying remains a boil festering within the world.  Not just because there are those who will always think they deserve to do harm in some form to other people.  It is also allowed to continue because the cowards looking on do nothing.

As a child I would wear bruises and whelps from beatings and others would see these, but remain silent.  In school, when kids would bully me, there would be those who would just stand there and watch, doing nothing.  Years ago a man I knew in junior high and high school crossed my path at a baseball game.  We sat and chatted for a bit while watching the field.  He looked at me and with sadness in his eyes he said he remembered how some of the other boys would say and do mean things to me.  I remembered he was one of them standing there.  He continued to aver that it always bothered him how they did that.  He said good-bye and returned to his seat.  If it bothered him so much, why didn’t he say anything to anyone who could have helped me?

Perhaps this person didn’t or felt he couldn’t do anything due to his age at the time of the incidents.  However, there are those in workplaces who will stand around the water-cooler listening to co-workers as they say ugly and hateful things about another co-worker.  At the most they may go to a quiet place and secretly phone that person and warn them someone is saying things about them.  You call that person a friend and yet you stand there and allow other people to defame the same one you call friend.  This is not what I call a friend.

Passing cutesy things on Facebook and Twitter may be fun, but what are you really doing to put an end to the bullying in the world?  What are you doing to put an end to the bullying in your own town or neighborhood?

The next time you are in a group where someone you know and perhaps call friend is being besmirched and you are tempted to do nothing, imagine you are watching a small child being brutally beaten.  What would you do?  Would you just go over and tell that child they are being abused?  IF you are a friend, then speak up and say you will NOT stand around and allow small-minded people to speak that way about someone that you endear.   Be a human being and display that you are indeed a friend in the truest sense of the word.

It is the people who stand by that allow bullying and abuse to continue to rule the world.

To say that I am prudish or priggish is quite accurate.  I was raised to behave in a modest manner and to believe that certain things should remain private.  I still hold to these things as true today.  I am neither a voyeur nor an exhibitionist.

These days it seems sex is used to sell pretty much everything.  There has been an advertisement on television of late displaying a stick-thin model indulging in a huge hamburger from a certain fast food chain in a seductive manner.  First of all they don’t show you the part where she may take the bite, but spits it out having neither chewed nor swallowed it.  Secondly, this type of advertisement will not induce me to purchase the hamburger the model is not consuming.  It being a female model has no baring on my decision.  You could put a top male model in her place and I would still not be enticed.

When the reality television program Dancing With The Stars first launched I thought it would be really nice to see celebrities learning how to ballroom dance.  However, it has turned into a sex-fest.  Last season was the only season I have watched the show.  I only watched and voted because there was an uproar over Chaz Bono participating.  I did write a post on that http://dlbach.com/deeels/2011/09/02/hatred-unfounded/.  The controversy was over Mr. Bono’s transexuality, yet there is no problem with the females being clad very skimpily nor the males removing their clothing.

A number of years ago I had a knee injury and had to undergo physical therapy.  One of the therapists would always start debates with me regarding movie content.  He found it difficult to believe that a grown woman such as myself would only go to movies rated G, PG or PG-13.  He would argue that sex, violence and foul language were everywhere.  I heartily agreed with this statement.  However, that does not mean that I am either going to go out looking for it or pay my hard-earned money to see it on the screen.

Many people believe that the fewer clothes a person is wearing and the more seductive the pose makes that person sexier.  With this I disagree.  A previous job I had, a certain manager would (as all the managers did) wear suits to work every day.  One weekend morning he came in wearing sweats in order to perform inventory in his area.  A fair amount of his inventory was in the racks across from my office.  I sat there going about my duties, but also watched as he went about his. 

We engaged in idle chit-chat as we always did.  At one point I stopped what I was doing and just looked at him.  I told him I wanted to tell him something, but asked him not to take it the wrong way.  He knew me well enough to know that what ever I was about to say would be purely innocent and he said I should proceed.  I went on to tell him that he was a very sexy man.  He blushed a deep shade of red and kind of got choked up.  I explained that even though he was wearing sweats and was kind of dusty and dirty from taking inventory, he was still the same as if he were wearing his usual business suite.

Sexiness has nothing to do with what a person is or is not wearing, it has everything to do with attitude.  This gentleman was a handsome man, he felt he was at least a bit attractive, but would never consider himself sexy.  I had never considered him that way before either.  However, after that day we would both blush whenever we would look at each other.

Just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so is sex, sexuality and sexiness.  While I may not go around discussing sex and I most assuredly do not write about it in my poetry, short stories or novels, I am still a sexual being.  It is the small minded people who will torment others because of their beliefs and try to get them to behave the way they do.  This is why terms such as prude and priggish are deemed negative just as gay and lesbian are in many groups.  The only thing that is a must is that you are true to who you are.  Trying to be something or someone you are not will only leave you miserable.

I’d like to break my own taboo and speak here on religion.

Earlier I was reading a Brit friend’s blog and her post on this same subject.  Her words caused words to begin to swell up inside my head and gave me the courage to relay them here in a more definite manner to allow people to see where I am at.  I am not doing this to start a debate or provoke long-time friends to try to persuade me different.

When my best friend Sissy was still alive, she had no reserve about arguing her religious views.  I recall one occasion sitting in a Wendy’s down from my apartment with her and two gentlemen of a different denomination.  An argument ensued.  I firmly stated that I would leave if they did not cease.  The discussion abated briefly.  However, when it began again, I collected my things and prepared to depart.  The gentlemen stood, apologized and returned to their wives.  Sissy and I left.  This is related to remind you how firm I am on NOT debating or arguing religion.

I was raised in a so-called Christian household where one thing was preached and another was lived.  Alcoholism, abuse and adultery were rampant.  As a child does, I accepted what I was told and believed how I was told to believe.  I listened while members on both sides of my family orated their bigotry and hatred for those who were different (I will get into this in an upcoming post as it has more to do with my new mission in life).

As a child I knew there was something different about me.  I recall one Sunday while Grandmaw was preparing Sunday dinner, my uncle and I were playing a game of cards.  Grandmaw came in and said we were sinning by playing cards on the Sabbath.  I thought she was going to have kittens when I calmly said, “But, today isn’t the Sabbath, yesterday was”.  Her disapproving look advised never to broach the topic again.

At the age of 21, my mother, while in the process of disowning me, looked at me and told me I was a “damn Jew” just like my father.  This gave me pause.  I had never heard anything before about Jewish heritage in my family tree.  I have since found that connection.  The statement did give me reason to think.  While studying the Jewish people and learning of their plight, I always felt a connection.  I attempted as an adolescent to hone in on my German roots and forget those feelings.

A few years after my mother’s enlightenment, I learned about a Messianic (congregations of Jewish believers and Gentiles who embrace their Jewish religious roots) congregation in my area and began attending services.  Here, I flourished and began learning about this hidden limb buried in my family tree.  Growing in this setting I accepted what I was taught and began to relinquish the past teaching.  To say I completely gave up my past is inaccurate.  Nor did I pick and choose what I wanted to keep from each.

In my mid-twenties, I began to question.  I questioned everything I believed in.  Recalling there is a place in the scriptures that encourages this kind of questioning, I pushed forward.  I learned through my study that holidays, both Christian and Jewish, I had kept were not what I was trained to believe they were.  It was like a child finding out that there is no Easter bunny nor Santa Clause.  I continued to embrace my Jewish roots and remained with the Messianic congregation.  However, I kept true in my own ways.

Seeing false faith in both the Christan and Messianic worlds, I needed to find my own peace, my own way.  After I got sick and people from both of those worlds began to disappear, I really began to question things.  As I look back over the past few years (generalities, so not trying to diss anyone) it seems the ones who have offered the most sincere support to me are those from the Atheist, Buddhist and mix-n-match realms.

I have not kept anything within the Christianity world in many years.  I keep the Jewish parts in my own way.  It is more in the Buddhist meditations that I have found inner peace.  When things seem to be the most troubling for me, I finally pause and realize I have not been meditating.  There was once that, while in the midst of a Meniere’s bout of full-blown vertigo, I had a passing thought I hadn’t done my meditations.  I focused the best I could and tried to work on my Chakras.

It has been since Passover 2009 that I have attended any religious services.  While I still consider myself Messianic, I don’t really have any formal belief system other than knowing what I have studied and continue to learn.  I will no longer accept with “blind faith” what a mere mortal says.  I will also not look at man’s book of scriptures solely as a resource.  I will prove everything out from historical accounts and keep things the way I keep things and not the way someone else tells me to.  I will not “pray” to a god I cannot trust.   I will send good thoughts and energy to those who need it.  I respect that you believe your way and only ask for the same consideration in return.  I will not try to persuade you to believe differently, which is why I didn’t give details of what I learned when I searched for answers.  I expect the same from others.

The Greatest Frontier

Throughout history man has looked for frontiers to conquer.  Stepping into the unknown is both fearful and exciting.  It is near impossible to predict what treasures you will find or even what dangers you will face.  The best we can do is rely on our past experiences to help guide in these endeavors.

Gene Roddenberry, in his television program Star Trek, called space the final frontier.  He dubbed this the last unexplored area for men to conquer.  Perhaps this is true to a point.

For centuries philosophers and psychologists have explored the human mind.  However, there is still so much to explore and learn with such a complexly simple mechanism.

Upon meeting someone for the first time, they might inquire, “Who are you?”  While they know your name from introduction, you, out of habit, repeat your name.  Another question that may be posed upon first meeting is, “Can you tell me about yourself?”  With this we may proceed to declare what job we do for a living, our marital status, offspring, etc.  These are things that identify us just as much as our hair color, eye color and the way we dress.

But, who are you?

We hear tell of those (usually kids in an attempt to keep from going to college or to work) who use their money to “go and find themselves”.  This may seem frivolous to many.  I find it so in the regard that usually all they are doing it romping about exploring life.  How often do they actually “find” themselves?

Many people look to religion as the source of identifying who they are, others their families, education or even hobbies.  These are things that can, once again, identify us, but do they tell us who we really are?

I had always heard that praying is the act of “speaking to god” while meditation is the act of “listening to god”.  I hear so much of people talking about praying, but rarely about meditating.  After getting sick and being mostly confined to my apartment I started searching.  One of the worst things you can do is leave a writer alone with her/his thoughts.  We can get into all sorts of turmoil this way.

I cannot go back to the me I used to be before the illness entered my life.  Believe me, I have tried and I have sought to “find” the me I used to be.  Only now am I realizing this is never to happen.  When I am in a bout of vertigo (which lasts two days) my head conjures up all kinds of things.  Some is good, some not so much and others just plain out in left field.  One thing, however, that is prevalent, is trying to find me.

The first time I went to have a check-up with my current primary physician he stepped back and asked me if I were a singer.  I affirmed this and he went on to state that it was his experience that singers know themselves well, some better than even professional athletes.  True he was speaking of knowing myself physically.  But this is something I have been pondering of late. 

My mind also travels back to  time when my best friend, Sissy, her husband, two other friends of ours and I all went to Kings Dominion for an outing.  Anyone who knows me well enough, knows how much I really hate roller coasters.  Sissy, her husband and our friend Loretta convinced me to get on this new coaster called the Shock Wave.  It is a roller coaster you ride standing up.  Loretta and I were in the car behind Sissy and Al.  I pulled the straps and bar over me and leaned my head back and closed my eyes.  As the ride was ending, Sissy and Loretta were unstrapping themselves even before the ride stopped and shaking me.  They said they thought I was dead as I had turned as white as the tank-top I was wearing.  All I know is I put a death-grip on the bar holding me in and went deep inside myself.

Do I know myself?  Hardly.  I know my name.  I know I am single, never married, no children and I am a fair writer.  I know I have a hideous disease.  I know these things about me that identify me to the outside world, but I don’t know me – yet.  I read things that force me to look inside myself.  When I meditate, I look inside myself and explore those areas that I am afraid to look at or didn’t know exist.

There are times I write things, especially here in my blogberg, that many have told me they cannot comment here or even in Facebook or Twitter because they don’t know what to say.  They explain that I write in a manner that makes them think and causes them to look deeper then they ordinarily would.  These are things that help me explore my greatest frontier.

Space may be quite unexplored by humankind, but the greatest and most final frontier is in exploring ourselves, our own minds.  The Buddhists have a way of spending time with themselves and looking deep and when they come out on the other side, they are more peaceful more at home with who they are.  Their way isn’t the answer for everyone.  We must find who we are on our own and in our own way detached from all other influences.  Get to the heart, the soul, the very core of you.

Francis Bacon once wrote, “It is a sad fate for a man to die too well known to everybody else and still unknown to himself.”

Take time to explore your greatest frontier.

When I was growing up, I was taught to treat people with respect, especially my elders.  When addressing an elder it was always Mr./Mrs. So-and-so.  When responding to them it was “Yes, Sir/Ma’am” or “No, Sir/Ma’am”.  This is how it was and I never questioned it.  Besides, if I had questioned it, I probably would not have lived to see adulthood. I thought thing were this way with everyone.  Apparently I was misinformed.

After I grew up, I remembered my lessons and used them when engaging in conversation with my elders as well as those my age and younger.  Addressing people in this manner is just showing respect and has nothing to do with age, at least not for me anymore.  One thing I learned was that not all parents taught their children the same kind of respect.  The first time a child called me by my first name, I cringed.  Even if my last name (which is really long) is not known, they could still use Miss with my first name.  However, this was not the case and the parents didn’t seem the least bit phased.

From children that I nannied and/or sat for to the adolescents that I counseled, I found the same thing.  It felt as if the minors were trying to place themselves on the same level as adults.  I find this to be equivalent to parents who believe they should be their child’s best friend instead of their parent.  I may not be able to be a parent, but in my nearly thirteen years as an adolescent counselor working mainly in juvenile justice, I saw the fruits of this process.

In 2007, after dealing with my illness for three years, I found an on-line virtual world that gave me back a lot of what I lost from the illness.  This wonderland is called Second Life ® .  My training carried over into this world and I address people in a respectful manner.  I am continuously ‘chastised’  for referring to people as Sir or Ma’am.  Usually the males protest vehemently.  I still cannot understand why people would feel older by being treated with respect.

Another issue I encountered in Second Life ®  was that the majority of the people who used the same kind of respect I display for others are doing so because they are involved in BDSM or prostitution.  It seems that submissives are told to use Mr./Ms. and Sir/Ma’am when addressing people even if they are asked not to by the person being addressed.  I was told early on that others were believing I was involved in these groups because I was respectful.

What has the world come to when you cannot treat others with respect just because they are human beings?  Yes, I still cringe when not treated with respect, especially by children.  However, I learned to not care what others think in Second Life ®  and still continue to address people with respect.  In real life (and other places on-line) I continue to do the same.  I will address people with Mr./Mrs and their last name unless introduced only with the first name or until that person invites me to address them in a more informal manner.

Respect should never be out of fashion.  We should always show we have respect for others, even if it is just because they are a human being.

After reading the post, I Googled the television program and watched a few clips.  As I am not into reality television, it really wouldn’t be a program I would watch regularly.  However, as it is a reality television show, I found it to be quite enlightening.  People will spend hours watching others humiliate themselves in the various reality television shows that seem to consume the digital air ways these days.  But a show that wants to educate and enlighten the general population is hit with bigotry and hatred.

I didn’t stop with just looking at the website for All American Muslim, I also Googled the controversy with Lowe’s.  It seems that not all American’s are bigots like Lowe’s and their new-found supporters for pulling their advertising.  It seems there are many who are now boycotting Lowe’s because of this.

It is true that this is a country with the freedom of choice.  I choose not to hate.  I choose to look at everyone as human beings, until they (as in this case with some who posted their support in a very ugly manner on Lowe’s FB page) prove that they have the mannerisms of wild animals.

The month of December is for many a holy month with the celebration of Chanukah, Ramadan, Kwanza and Christmas.  All of these promote peace and good will toward others.  Apparently not all who keep these holidays believe in what they stand for.

A couple centuries ago some Native Americans went up against the new comers to their land and the hatred of the Native American began.  Some were savages so the settlers decided that ALL were savages.

Decades ago, blacks fought back because of the ill treatment they received due to the fact that their ancestors were brought here as slaves.  They were hated because they were different and fought back.

Today, a handful of people who happen to be Muslim become radical and turn their rage on Americans, therefore Americans hate ALL Muslims.

Hatred, bigotry, prejudice; whatever name you give it, it is a disease worse than the black plague.  An idea is planted and begins to fester and grow until it is full blown and violence ensues.  We must end this or we will not have a future world for those who come after us.

I had intended to write a post today to include my latest piece of writing.  It fits perfectly here.  Many of you know the song by John Lennon War Is Over.  It is only played during this time of year.  I only came to know this song a few years ago and I cry every time I hear it.  This is the biggest mistake of Mr. Lennon (I have blogged this before).  This song needs to be heard year round.

Since I keep Chanukah, many are surprised that I spend hours listening to a supposed Christmas song, but I do.  Tuesday night, trying to get into the Chanukah spirit, I put on some music and forgot I added War Is Over to the mix.

I was resting and listening when the song began to play.  I found myself sitting up and my pen was in my hand with a note pad.  The following words found their way to my page as a re-write of Mr. Lennon’s song.  I do give him credit on this one as well, this is just my version to make it more universal to be heard year-round.

War Is Over (Look To The Future)

Look to the future
and what you have done
one life is over
a new one just begun

Just look to the future
I hope you had fun
with your near ones and dear ones
your old and your young

Here’s to your future
and every New Year
can you make them good ones
without any fear

Here’s to the future
for the weak and the strong
for the rich and the poor ones
the road is very long

Let’s look to the future
for black and for white
for the yellow and red ones
we must end all the fights

Here’s to the future
and every New Year
can you make them good ones
without any fear

Look to the future
what have you done?
One life is over
a new one just begun

Just look to the future
I hope you had fun
with your near ones and dear ones
your old and your young

Here’s to our future
and every New Year
can we make them good ones
without any fear?

War IS over
IF you want it
War IS over
NOW!!!

December 13, 2011

© John Lennon & DL Bach

The supermarket can be a bit of a challenge as it is so big and I must make my way around, staggering with my cane and a buggy.  Occasionally I am met with smiles and nods from the front end employees and then by other employees as I make my way around.  Today, it was as if I was invisible.  Not just invisible to employees, but to other customers as well.  I couldn’t help but think as I was struggling in the dairy isle to get an item lower than what I could safely reach.  I saw via peripheral vision a man walk past me as I struggled to keep my balance and remain standing.  Clearly, he had to notice my difficulties, but kept on walking. 

There were others as well that seemed to do this.  It was as if they made eye contact they would be obliged to assist me and they were far too busy to show compassion or kindness to a fellow human being.  I just couldn’t help but think about the myth of the ostrich burying his head in the sand.  Pliny the Elder once wrote, “imagine, when they have thrust their head and neck into a bush, that the whole of their body is concealed.”  This is to believe to be the source of the myth regarding the ostrich.  Humans are a lot like this though.   Not that by hiding their heads they believe their entire body is hidden, but if they cover their eyes, then the ugliness and ailments of their fellow human beings does not exist.

Too often, we cover our eyes or put on blinders to the outside world hoping that what is wrong with it will just go away and cease to exist.  We hope that the poor soul struggling to keep herself on her feet to finish her shopping will just disappear because we are too busy and too important to stop for just 30 seconds to assist someone else.  Or by putting a blindfold on the bruises and cuts on the child next door will fade and never return because we just can’t take a minute of our own time to at least look that child in the eye and show them that there is something other than the pain they feel.  Our own lives and families are far more important than to get involved with the likes of that.

Sometimes just one moment is all it takes to show another human being the kindness and compassion we all deserve.  After I left the supermarket and was driving home I continued to let this subject twirl in my mind.  I knew I was already worn out and didn’t feel like preparing food upon arriving home.  I stopped by my local Hardee’s (yes, the same one where I called the employees a bunch of plebeians) to pick up a burger, fries and a lemonade.  It was 1040 and I knew they were already serving lunch.  My order was taken at the drive-thru and I pulled up.  There were two vehicles in front of me.  The car ahead of me stopped briefly at the window and then pulled up to a space apparently to await a staff member bringing his food to him.

Being hearing impaired I watch the window till someone arrives.  I saw two employees pointing at a monitor and eventually the young girl I saw there came to the window and asked if I was the one who ordered the two sausage biscuits.  I said no and advised I ordered a burger.  She apologized and left the window.  Upon returning she opened the window and I could hear a female voice verbally assaulting her.  She said it would be a few minutes and asked if I could pull up or she could just return my money.  I asked how long and she went to check.  She returned to tell me one minute and thirty seconds would be my wait.  At that moment a very rude woman pushed into the window demanding to know what the problem was.  The young girl told her I was waiting for my burger and trying to decide if I wanted my money back due to the wait.  The other woman snapped at the girl and said my order was ready.

Due to the other woman’s behavior I was ready to just ask for my money back.  When the girl returned with my food I asked who the woman was and was advised she was the General Manager of the store and the girl said she just got into trouble due to my order.  I was not happy at this point and asked if that woman’s supervisor was around, however seeing she was the General Manager, she was the top of the food chain here.  I told the girl that she was the only reason I was not asking for my money back.  If it had just been for the other person, I would ask for my money in a heartbeat and leave.  I further told this girl that she remained calm and reasonable even though it was apparent the manager was losing her self-control.

Normally I would praise someone like this in front of them to their supervisor.  This time, I knew that was not an option.  This manager seemed the type who would retaliate against the girl.   As I praised her, I saw her demeanor change.  She felt much better than when I first pulled up.

It only takes thirty seconds to make someone’s day.  It takes just a short amount of time to help a person who needs it.  Human compassion and kindness should be demonstrated, not only to those we know and feel have earned it, it is something that should be part of our daily lives toward strangers who may never cross our paths again.  Burying your head in the sand or putting blinders on does not make life’s ugly struggles go away.  Taking a few meager moments of your valuable time, however, can make it go away, or at the very least make things easier.

I do not make it a habit of watching reality television.  Real life is reality enough for me.  However, there are times I am flipping through and land on one or two and may pause for a moment to see what is on that channel.  Doing this I have landed on DWTS several times.  Before I got sick, I loved to dance and especially ballroom dances.  So I pause longer at times if the pair dancing is dancing well.  There have been times in doing this that I have regretted my decision to pause.  It seems more and more that DWTS gets away from the dancing and focuses on the costuming, or lack thereof.  Dancing should be about dancing and NOT about the lack of clothing, unless of course it is striptease.  It is my understanding that DWTS was designed to showcase ballroom dancing and not tawdry stripping.

That said, back to the issue at hand.  So-called Christians all over the United States are saying they are going to boycott DWTS if Caz Bono is not removed from the cast.  This morning on the news they were claiming it would cause confusion for children.  I don’t understand how a man dancing with a woman on a television show is going to cause confusion for anyone especially children.  These same people don’t have an issue with their children watching strippers so why should they have a problem with their children watching a person who is very happy and healthy dancing and enjoying life.

Chaz Bono did not feel happy in his own body and like many people decided to do something about it.  The only difference between Mr. Bono and the rest of the celebrities is that he didn’t just have cosmetic surgery, he changed his gender.   I have heard arguments regarding transgender from the churches where they use a statement that God doesn’t make mistakes.  This implies that we should accept our bodies as they were given.  If I were a gambler, I would lay bets on the mass majority of those protesting Mr. Bono have and do attempt to change themselves on a daily basis through dieting, exercising, potions and lotions for anti-aging and so forth.  In my opinion, their claims hold nothing more than a lot of hot air.

Humans have difficulty looking within and how the festering hatred they harbor is worse for them than anyone else.  I never rally considered the reality of transgender until I met someone who is in the process to transgender.  I accepted this dear sweet soul as a human being long before I learned of what they were going through.  When I learned of my friends’ decision I could have deserted and forsaken the friendship formed to latch onto hatred toward the decision.  Had I done that I would have missed out on further getting to know one of the most gentle souls I have ever met with a heart bigger than the state of Texas.

It seems to me that as a whole, the christian sect is full of even more hatred that white supremacists and other radical groups.  These outcries only serve to add even more tarnish to their group and those who are part of the group and don’t harbor such hatred have to endure the ugliness heaped upon them due to those who go too far.

Hatred causes even more pain.  Acceptance of each other on the grounds that we are all human beings is what will go the distance to bring about peace.

Borrowed From Mr. Bono's Website http://www.chazbono.net/

**NOTE:  This is not meant to say that all Christians are haters.  I personally know some Christians who have very good and kind souls.