little things…

This year will be our first Thanksgiving together…

Thanksgiving, I’ve never understood…pilgrims, the indian massacre, little kids getting dressed and doing plays…why death to a turkey and not a cow or veggies? why a pie? and not a corndog? How has this ceremony or historical event evolved to what sum up to be a dreaded reunion for College kids and others as an opportunity for families coming together???? regardless…whoever invented the word THANKSGIVING, was from our planet!!

So, whenever I feel maybe i need to know what this is all about (i go Wikipedia). In my brain the history is another concept such as a phone number you memorize temporarily that dissipates as your priorities boot the concept out of your limited mind space given to short term memory.

To me, what does the word mean? this union of thanks and giving?

Well, how do we give thanks? sooo many ways, but to whom? our families, our friends, strangers, God? and more importantly how to we give thanks, by giving time? money? advice?

I think its a beautiful concept of giving thanks and reflecting on what you have and how lucky you are. As well as giving and sharing what you have, as a “thanks world you rock”!

So, i think its important that we help that weekend, since there will be tones of opportunities at shelters and churches.

The closes homesless shelter i found is the Christian Caring Center in Browns Mills NJ, OR in Camden (Although my favorite is in Newark). There are some around Philly as well, but it depends on what you want as well, schedule wise. (i just got an email from CCC they have no events that weekend)

It will be important to me to start a tradition of giving during bird day. The historical Thanksgiving dinner i think I’ll leave that permanent memory space for my kids to fill.

Maybe we can have KB packets and give them in Philly when we go?

Although there is something really special and almost romantic about giving someone something you made, because you are giving so much of you? like instead of giving easy a sandwhich, siting down with him and sharing some time really meant a lot to me and Im sure maybe a little to him as well.

Hooray FOR BIRD LOVE DAY!

A doctor in Afghanistan…amaaazing…makes you feel real real tiny

a letter written by Lee Buttz—

I am attaching a few pictures from a Community Medical Assistance (CMA)
program I went on this week.  These events are held on approximately a
monthly basis to provide medical care and supplies to the population,
and to try to instill a sense of trust in the Afghan police and army.

It is a daunting task to say the least.  The sites for these events are
generally underserved areas (that doesn’t exclude many places) that are
considered to be at risk due to location or Taliban influence.  Since
medical care and medications are extremely limited, we plan a day to
bring supplies and medical personnel to the villages and have a health
fair of sorts. For many it is the only time they may have seen a doctor
in their lives.

It is not really accurate to say that we are providing medical care, at
least by Western standards.  The 6 docs present saw over 400 patients in
the 4 hours of the event, and that was with more than half the docs
leaving early (Afghan national army) because they didn’t want to work
any more.  They just left the one other Afghan doc and me to see the
rest.

The departing docs were also all female, which caused a bit of a problem
since the female villagers will generally not see or talk to males other
than their husbands.  The police chief made an announcement to the
remaining females that the only docs left were male, causing many of the
women to leave.  Then when the women come in they are wearing Burkha’s
and any sort of physical exam is completely out of the question.  I
ended up talking to the side of the head of completely draped and
covered women who spoke only to the female interpreter who had limited
command of English and no medical training.  After describing their
symptoms I had to guess what condition they had and what medication to
give them from a limited checklist pharmacy.  A new look at the practice
of medicine.

There are so many aspects to this event that I could go on indefinitely.
The facilities, the geography, the threats, the standards of care (and
cleanliness- no running water in a medical clinic)….The pictures
attached show the general area (they farm there, but it’s hard to find
any green), the clinic, and one of my better dressed infant patients
with her Burkha mother.

One last quick story.  As we were pulling out in our up-armored Hummer
one of the US army embedded trainers stops the vehicle I was in to ask
if I can read EKG’s.  I say sure and hop out, not knowing quite what to
expect.  The chief of police is standing there with his medical
evaluation that was performed in Pakistan.  He has an angiogram report
that is written in some Arabic language, but with enough blockages with
70/80/90’s on the left anterior descending to indicate severe single
vessel CAD.  The echo report in Turkish seemed to indicate (through
numbers and percents) that his heart function was normal.  The question
to me was “what should he do”?  Well, in the US he would have had a PTCA
and stent without leaving the hospital.  In Afghanistan there is no such
thing as interventional cardiology.  To make a long story not too long,
I am working with the Army trainer in trying to find appropriate
treatment for this officer who is apparently very influential in an area
that is on the edge.

The things they don’t teach you in medical school.

Lee

Water Wings and the Sauna

The new White House Chief of Staff is a triathlete and defends his sport rather aggressively.

From Fortune Magazine:  “In off-camera chitchat with the shirt-sleeved lawmakers, Bush takes note of Democratic Congressman Rahm Emanuel’s deep tan, prompting the 46-year-old Emanuel to boast about the miles of swimming and biking in his triathlon training schedule. Testosterone oozes into the humid air space between the two men. Bush invites Emanuel down to Texas to do some real biking. “So I said, ‘I’ll make you a deal, Mr. President. I’ll bike if you swim.’ Now he didn’t exactly say swimming was a wussy sport, but you could tell…. So I said, ‘Mr. President, Laura can put your water wings next to the lake. You can have your water wings.’ “

At that point you might think this graduate of the Evanston School of Ballet-a man whose office features sunset photos and who has the mellow chords of David Gray playing on his iPod-would leave well enough alone. But Emanuel is hard-wired to go for the jugular: Politics Chicago-style are part of his DNA. So he sharpens his drill bit on the leader of the free world. “I said to him, ‘You’re not one of those tribathletes, are you, Mr. President? You know-steam, sauna, shower?’

“And Bush goes, ‘That’s g-o-o-d.’ “

It seems America is becoming America Again.

Let America Be America Again

By Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed–
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek–
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean–
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today–O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home–
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free?  Not me?
Surely not me?  The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay–
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again–
The land that never has been yet–
And yet must be–the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME–
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose–
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath–
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain–
All, all the stretch of these great green states–
And make America again!

Strecthing the Right Way

A NYTimes article talking about the dangers of static stretching and giving a few stretches to warm the body and increase the range of joints and muscles.

11 Hours and 56 Minutes!

This Post Reserved for Caro’s Ironman ….to be posted shortly as soon as Tom gets pictures.

71 DAYS LEFT to meet our target of helping 99 people!!!!!!!!!

On January 31st 2008, we set as 1 of our goals  as part of the TOMCARO projects to be :

“4. Help out 99 people by the end of the year. Write a blog entry for each person.”

NO DICE.

Es October 21 y estamos MUY LEJOS de nuestra meta requerida de “helping 99 people”. Yose que nos estamos olvidando de mucha gente que hemos ayudado en el camino, pero estamos MUYYYYY ATRASADOS!!!!

Primero, tenemos que asegurarnos de escribir en la lista la gente que nos hemos olvidado.

Podemos conseguir el target de 99 personas si nos aseguramos que UNO de los dos ayuda a una persona cada dia. Haciendo una GRAN COSA POR ELLOS.

This is HOMEWORK FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR!!!!

go PHILLS!!!! AND LOVE MORE THE UNIVERSE!!!!!

NEW TARGETS!

1-SAVE SAVE SAVE MONEY ALL YEAR…

2-Learn about politics in the Netherlands and check out the parties, it looks so interesting…

Since I’ve never voted, well maybe i can start voting now…Obviously, this will require some extensive research —-

next elections will be:

• European Parliament: 4 June 2009
• Municipalities: 3 March 2010
• Provinces: 2 March 2011
• Second Chamber: 11 May 2011
• First Chamber (indirect elections): 23 May 2011

3- NETWORKING!!!!!

4- ART and our cause!!!

5- Train SARAH!!!

6- Achieving our 2007 goals of ORIGAMI LOVE AND HELPING 100 PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!

MENU

MM-–MEXICAN MONDAY was inaugurated yesterday with:

Grilled Salmon, spinach tomato Tostada a la guacamole————– yummy

Mexican Monday…a tradition that should stay with us forever….

FF -FISHY FRIDAY TO COME…oh and TT Tortellini Tuesday too!

HU JIA

The New York Times photo

Human Rights advocates in China, Hu Jia-his wife and daughter, trying to inform the world of human rights violations via the Internet are now in house arrest(have been for a while now). The charges being “subverting state power”. Hu Jia was one of the condidates this year for the Nobel Peace Prize. There is some speculation of fear of the chinese reaction of the prize went to Mr. Jia….interesting.

Some other 51 HR advocates are also under house arrest. They simply publicly (online) dissented and are now under arrest!

It seems that more than 25,000 websites have been blocked in CHina as well as in many other places around the world, like Chord said he didn’t have access to a lot of website while in SA.