Posted on 01/16/2002 1:25:44 AM PST by Mercuria
A dear acquaintance of mine is an employee at one of the tonier eateries here in the greater Los Angeles area. He's a hard and cheerful worker. He was recently reprimanded, a rare occurrence in his over two years of employment.
As a customer was leaving after having had lunch my pal called out, "Have a great day!", with sincerity, and within the owner's earshot. The owner quickly spun around and said, "Darling, you have no right to tell someone what kind of day they should have." The term of endearment did nothing to melt the ice of the delivery.
One of my closest friends recently gave birth to her fourth bundle of joy. Her last month of maternity was filled with the drama of several false labors, embarrassing to such a pro, though quite amusing to her family and friends. As she went in for a checkup just before her due date, her husband -- as in supporter of her and the first three babes and payer of the monthly insurance bill -- called the hospital and asked that he be notified if they were going to consider inducing the birth.
When she arrived for the appointment she found herself being treated rather rudely, dismissively. When the doctor walked into her curtained-off-cubicle his first words were, "It's your body, you know. You can make any decisions you want on your own." She had no idea what he was talking about, but his disdain failed to dissipate and by the time she walked out to her car she was in tears.
A week later the baby was born, healthy, hearty and handsome, a genuine gem amidst the generic of the modern-day maternity ward. As my friend was checking out she said to the head nurse, "Why is it that this is labor and delivery, but it looks like a prison? Pastel paint can't cost more than gray, but it's much more cheerful."
"Not all women keep their babies," replied the nurse. But her tone was saying, "Duh!"
By now most people know about the homage to political correctness the New York Fire Department and assorted groups are planning on raising in commemoration of the sacrifices made at the World Trade Center on September the 11th. They're commissioning a sculpture based on the world famous photograph of three firefighters raising the American flag over the rubble that ruinous day, but in a paean to relativism over reality, the faces (and bodies!?) of the actual actualizers have been retooled to reflect a more diverse display. The flag, the former focus, is an afterthought.
It is now an Ode to The Outcry; The Outcry That Almost Wasn't. The clay model was unveiled several weeks ago, on December the 20th to be exact, to all the mush that is the mainstream media. The revision wasn't worthy of mention then. No, once again, it took individuals to fuss and fret and foment at the fabrication. Now it's news. But only because The People made it so.
The three men who raised that flag -- Dan McWilliams, George Johnson and Billy Eisengrein -- probably didn't set out to become global symbols that day. They look like three ordinary guys who needed to be inspired; yet they ended up inspiring millions. No, they weren't perfectly sinewed, they weren't a rainbow coalition, they didn't look like stereotypical heroes, but few true heroes ever do. But they were who they were, they did what they did, and they deserve recognition in whatever permanent position their actions eventually inspire.
But like the cheer of a person paid to greet and bid adieu, or the bliss of a new mother, let not their simple happiness be sustained, lest it be contagious or, worse, lest it remind someone else that it is not their own personal delight.
Henry Miller, in Sexus, put it so much better (yes, it seems someone almost always already has):
Tears are easier to put up with than joy. Joy is destructive: it makes others uncomfortable. 'Weep and you will weep alone.' What a lie that is! Weep and you will find a million crocodiles to weep with you. The world is forever weeping. The world is drenched in tears... But joy, joy is a kind of ecstatic bleeding, a disgraceful sort of supercontentment which overflows from every pore of your being. You cannot make people joyous just by being joyous yourself. Joy has to be generated by oneself. It is or it isn't. Joy is founded on something too profound to be understood or communicated. To be joyous is to be a madman in a world of sad ghosts.
Have whatever kind of day you wish.
Mercurial Times exclusive commentary. Reprints must credit the author and Mercurial Times.
BTW, what are you doing up so late?
There you go, telling me what kind of day to have. ;-)
Thanks for the ping, Miz Merc. Hope you're over that flu.
Miz Anna, don't let nothin' steal your joy.
Thank you kindly, sir, I am feeling much better!
I was going to ask the same question.
I sure miss the non-PC world that I was raised in. In those days men were men and women were women. But today people are nothing but putty waiting to be molded into something that they aren't. I guess that is why I am always in trouble over something just because I tell it like it is.
As for "have a nice day" -- I always looked at that particular salutation as having the understood prefix, "I hope," attached to it. In other words, it would mean, "I hope you have a nice day!" That isn't telling people what to do, or what kind of day to have! Not at all! Sheesh!
Tons and tons of hospitals now have birthing rooms that have cheery wallpaper with duckies and birdies and puppies on the trim. To suggest that a hospital not remain stuck in the "gray area" is to give a helpful observation from the mother's point of view. She's the one who needs it cheery-looking, whether she is keeping the baby or giving the baby up for adoption. Do they (the proverbial "they") think that, by keeping the walls a dingy gray, it will convince the delivering mother that she hasn't been pregnant for the nine months prior? (I think the birthing mothers all know that a baby is in there, don't you?!) (Oy!)
The firefighter flap is ridiculous. The whole mess has put an ugly face on something that was horrific, then hero-ific, as the Nation desperately searched for comfort. We were all feeling pretty darned good about our citizen heroes, and we were proud to be Americans! But we certainly can't have that, can we?! Can this possibly get any uglier?! Of course it can! Just ask N.O.W.! Double Oy! (I think I may hurl!)
I have plenty more to add (was there ever any question?!), but I haven't gotten my nighty-nights yet, so I will be back! (I guess that's a warning?! *G*) I just took my muscle relaxer, so I can't stay awake no matter how hard I try! Thus -- I shall sleep on this, and then come back to help make Anna's point some more! (Good job, Anna!!)
I am completely flabbergasted. If you haven't heard about the N.O.W. ridiculousness (that is NOW a word, even if it wasn't one before!) (no pun intended!), keep your eyes and ears open. You will!!
Sheeeeeeeeeeesh!!
Thanks again Anna, and thank you Merc!! (I HOPE you feel better, Merc!!) (I would never presume to ORDER you to feel better! No -- I might, at that! *VBG*)
Nighters!! I'll be back soon! ;-}
Guys, Joseph Farah has, IMHO, a pretty good take on the flag raising in his Between The Lines column today. As SL says, "We can't have that!" And' I agree when Joe writes that "they" are purposeful in their devisive tactics. "They" know EXACTLY what they are doing. "They have most to fear when Americans unite." And, it IS "sickening". Peace and love, George.
Quite disgusting, rude, selfish and POLITICALY leftist.
Americanism was great for the 4 1/2 months it was allowed.
I guess she's talking about stillbirths and miscarriages. But are the people in these sad situations, which must be a minority of patients, going to feel better because of the gray walls? The nurse's comment is just weird. Wonder if she's got some baby-related tragedy in her own background, in which case she should, respectfully, consider a move to another area of nursing rather than rain on others' parade.
Independant Thinkers (Troublemakers)
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