SCALES

SCALES

What is your Heaven? What is your Hell?

I hope for doctors that Hell is a series of waiting rooms, to which they are sent. Room1, to be weighed on over heavy scales. Room 2, to pump a ball until their right arm is as numb as their interest, then on to Room 3, to lie naked upon crinkly paper to while away the hours with no pay, only to be told "It's in their mind or that they are getting old or "Take two aspirin, come back in two weeks. That'll be $80 and get this Script filled for another $80, but don't worry it's only sugar."

I hope GOD will make the orderlies take back their words "I hope the Old Geezer doesn't croak on my watch." Said in the hall, loud enough for the Old Geezer's Daughter to hear... GOD kept the Old Geezer around just a few breathless minutes after shift change. Some are spared even the simplist pain, some are not.

But then, against all odds I am still here. Others I know are also thankful that GOD guided the scalple in a surgeons steady hand, gently mending a broken heart and bringing forth a second chance at life.

What about abortion? For me? Not ever not with my dying breath. But I'll be damned if some old fart in DC, will have a say about my body, my choice.
For others, the protesters on both sides ... put away your signs and screams and pick a Child, any Child. See that they are protected from hunger and harm. See that abusers can no longer cruise our streets, rape our young. See that no parent can use their strength as a bully in a playground. Band together, so that no Child cries in the night, from fear, hunger or loneliness. There are so many of you. Your opinion about abortion won't matter. Your wants, desires and love of children will eliminate the need for abortion.

My Daughter, at 14, was wiser than I at 30. After reading and seeing a play of the Diary of Ann Frank. She wanted to see Schindler's List. She knows that Ann's Diary gave hope from the horror. Just as the survivors tell the tales of baby camps, pulling the gold from the teeth of friends and neighbors and loved ones. Traitors? No Someone had to carry the tales to the future with hope and prayers that those times will not be repeated.

Johnnie, Joanie, come take your pill.
Visit your local school someday, just a spur of the moment stop in. Look on the counter for a clipboard. Not the check in and out. Tell the Jackie of all trades You'd like a school schedule, tell her "You must be the most important person in this school, you know every child and keep everything running smooth as ice cream." While she's beaming, sneak a peek. In the past 5 years Ritalin has been relegated to Super Pill or Magic Bullet status. Prozac for puberty, chain the brain, tie the tongue, numb the senses, curb creativity, deaden the dreams. And then wonder... wonder out loud to anyone who will listen..."Take your Child off the pill." Read, cuddle, talk or not. Take time the most precious of all gifts to build on this each day until the love and trust can topple all the bottles and keep the needles at bay. Maybe some day Johnnie and Joanie won't listen when someone says "Hey Man, come get your pills.

Is this their Heaven or their Hell? Or maybe yours.