Wednesday, December 24, 2014

A Bridge From A Cross

It's Christmas Eve! It's... 
It's the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, 
We... we... we smile a little easier, 
We... w-w-we... we... we cheer a little more. 
For a couple of hours out of the whole year, 
We are the people that we always hoped we would be!
-Frank Cross 
"Scrooged"

Frank Cross may exist only in the genius of Bill Murray but his status as a fictional character does not make the sentiment that he expressed slightly more than a quarter-century ago any less real.  One might argue in fact that it elevated him to the status of celluloid hero.  

If you reside in these United States - unless your head has secured permanent asylum up your own ass - then you know that 2014 has been a year that has - more than a lot of its predecessors have - tested the bounds of the Founding Fathers' grand experiment.  It has been a year in which we the people have learned a number of harsh truths about one another and, in the process, about ourselves.  And the damn thing about living life in a "High-Def" world, everything shows up with crystal clarity.  Including the blemishes.  Including the warts.  

Here in the New York City metropolitan area, people of every conceivable race, color and creed appear to be jockeying for position at the controls of the handcart piloting all of us straight to Hell.  A great man once shared aloud with hundreds of thousands of others - coincidentally also of every conceivable race, color and creed - his dream that "My four little children will one day live in a nation where they will be judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character".  A half-century removed from Dr. King's words, there are those on both sides of the curse exchange masquerading as a debate who have either simply chosen to ignore them or, worse yet, to repudiate them altogether.  These days, all of us might be better served to not judge such charlatans by the color of their skin but rather by the content of their agenda.

My son is among those who earns his living running the wrong direction.  He is a man who - when Hell breaks loose - does not seek refuge from it.  Rather, he acts to protect the rest of us.  Experience has taught him that Evil - much like Goodness - is colorblind and is not race, color, gender or creed-specific either.  It is an ability to discern the distinction between "wrong and right" as opposed to "black and white" upon which he relies - as do the men and women with whom he keeps company as "wrong way runners" - to serve and protect us while ensuring that he protects himself as well.  After all, there is no rule more important than Jimmy Malone's First Rule.   Especially to those of us who love him.  I assure you.  

This is supposed to be the Season of Peace and Hope.  The former appears to be in short supply.  As for the latter?  Maybe, just maybe, more of it exists than is apparent at first glance.  It took a young lady of great courage and even greater empathy to do what Emerald Garner did on Monday.    

But pardon me if I have seemed
To take the tone of judgment.
For I've no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment.
In this life of hardship of an earthly toil,
We have a need for anything that frees us.
So I bid you pleasure and I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan

May I - for a couple of hours tonight - be the person that I have always hoped to be.  May tonight's couple of hours inspire me to strive for a couple of hours just like them tomorrow.  And the day after that one...

-AK    






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