Feeling “funny,” is something that would describe me pretty well today. Not ha ha funny, stomach ache funny. I’m thinking that Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt, John Wayne, Amelia Earhart, and even Hawkeye Pierce from MASH may have ruined me. They stood up for what they believed, right or wrong, left or right. They had chutzpah, nerve, and . . . well, you know.
So, what’s making me feel funny? It’s those darn birds. Those birds have touched my heart. Tell me this; how can you not feel empathy for the baby birds being oiled down in their nests, and how about the tiny little birds that are still flying around a few feet from the oncoming disaster with absolutely no clue as to how bad things are going to be in a very short amount of time. I’ll admit that, unlike my mom, I’m not a passionate bird lover, but those big, oil soaked birds are really getting to me.
I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m allergic to shell fish, and even though, according to some oil company spokesperson, “Louisiana isn’t the only place that has shrimp,” according to my memory, their shrimp was some of the best in the world. So, if you’re not a big bird fan, how about a big shrimp fan, or a big fan of places where people live? How about a big fan of being able to sit on the beach or of jobs; fishing jobs, tourism jobs, even oil jobs? What will it take to get our leaders to show some real passion? I’m thinking Sesame Street.
We all know that getting the kids involved has helped remind us to start wearing our seat belts and bike helmets, to stop drinking and driving, and now texting and driving. Maybe we need Sesame Street to get our country to finally scream out from the top of their lungs, “S-T-O-P it.“ Could you imagine Big Bird or better still the President of that oil company dressed as Big Bird all soaked in oil being pushed out into the Gulf and gasping for air as he slowly is washed away forever? It would make the time they did the “Mr. Hooper is dying thing” seem tame.
One of my favorite sayings is “The problem is never the problem,” and the problem here is, once again, the status quo. It’s that philosophy of “don’t change ANYTHING because I’m personally comfortable with my life.” Just this week, a group of scientists who literally have brought 44 people out of deep, irreversible comas; soldiers, policemen, firemen, coal miners, and little boys and girls had their federal grant blocked because the status quo scientists and doctors involved said that “It was not the traditional methodology for treating coma patients.” Yikes, tell that to the people who lived, many of whom are back to leading functional lives. Come to think of it, that would be a good Sesame Street show, too. Oscar the grouch in Critical Care with tubes, the Cookie Monster administering the Last Rites, and Bingo Bango he’s awake and grouchy again.
Is it possible that no one wants to stand up for what they believe in and take it on the chin anymore? Somewhere there still must be some lines, some sacred requirements that we must meet in order to qualify as human beings on this planet? Could you imagine how different those John Wayne movies would have been? “It’s okay, pilgrim, let ‘em rob the bank. We need their support for re-election.” How about Neil Armstrong? “You want me to do what?” “Are you crazy?”
I still feel funny. Where the heck is Big Bird and Hawkeye when you really need them? We’ve had seagull management in this country for far too long now as they “Fly in, squawk, poop on our heads, and fly back to D.C. “ Pelicans UNITE!