I have been known to cry during Pedigree commercials when the shelter dogs talk to us from behind bars about how confused they are by their homeless state. The scandalous treatment of our veterans at Walter Reed touched me deeply. Abu Gharib almost literally broke my heart. I donated diapers and baby bottles and money to Katrina Relief because I had to do something to help or I'd go nuts. 9/11 crosses my mind in one form or another every day. I still mourn the little boy in this photo, Yummy Sandifer, who back in 1994 committed a gang murder and then, within weeks, was shot in the head in another gang murder … and he was only 9 years old.
Yet while I have read the coverage of the Virginia Tech Massacre, I remain unmoved.
Has this old heart of mine been broken by world events so often that now it's just cold and numb? Or is there something wrong with me?
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Torn between two loves
Greg Maddux is on the mound again in the beautiful confines of Wrigley Field, but today he's pitching for the San Diego Padres. I have to admit that, in my heart of hearts, I want him to win. It's a terribly uncomfortable feeling for me, rooting against the Cubs.
Now I know what it's like to be Mrs. Manning when the Giants play the Colts.
Now I know what it's like to be Mrs. Manning when the Giants play the Colts.
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