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Tuesday, February 28, 2012

What the Founding Fathers Probably Meant: Part 10


Amendment Nine: “The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.”

The final two amendments of The Bill of Rights were the big, catch-alls that showed that the fathers knew they weren’t, couldn’t, foresee everything that would come down the line.  Despite the fact that many of them didn’t know, or even expect, that the nation they had gathered to form would survive, they did everything they could to ensure that, if it did, it remained something of which they could be proud.

The ninth amendment states that no right in The Constitution can ever be interpreted in such a way as to deny or harm those others which were granted to citizens of The United States.  Ostensibly, this was meant to prevent the federal government from growing its power large enough to overtake the concurrent powers of the individual states.  While a completely valid concern in a period where each state, recently its own colony with a culture and protectorate akin to being an individual nation, was concerned with maintaining its own independence, it has become an almost antiquated concept, if taken solely as it was originally written.

Historically, we all know how the idea of every state being out for itself turned out.  It’s currently still going on in the former Soviet block and, to another degree, in the nations of Africa.  Rather than offering a united, consolidated front, the bickering and petty concerns of cultural and ideological differences in some arenas, get in the way of forming a more secure foundation upon which a nation can thrive.  So it was with the U.S., which led to the bloody Civil War, and so it has been around the world.  But I’ll get to that in the next section.

I believe the amendment remains valid today, only in a somewhat different, subtler light.  I even think that sly, forward-thinking men like Jefferson and Franklin may even have been prescient enough to have slipped it in purposefully.  If taken in the proper way, the ninth amendment can be read to say that no law created by the government shall be enacted to disparage the basic human rights guaranteed to every person. 

Slavery was a point of heavy contention and nearly broke the nation before and shortly after its separation from England.  Even a number of the slave owners were willing to let go of the institution in favor of a more enlightened viewpoint, but those who were not, mostly from the Southern colonies, fervently refused to do so, as it was the foundation of their economies.  The problem, of course, is that it denied a portion of the population the same basic rights as were granted to the rest.

So we have this, one of the initial enumerated laws of the country, laying out that no law shall deny or disparage, remove or harm, those retained by the people which, as laid out in the fifth and elsewhere, were listed as the right to life, liberty and property, that is, to the ability to retain property, to be free from oppression and to enjoy the basic rights and freedoms of humanity and one’s fellow citizens.

It laid the framework for justifying women’s suffrage, the civil rights movement and even the overturning of laws preventing interracial or gay marriage.  It states that it is impossible for the government to enact legislation which removes from its citizens the rights to which all people are entitled.  In short, it doesn’t matter whether you agree with their ideology.  We are all Americans and, as such, in order to form a more stable and perfect union, we must come together, emphasizing common ground, rather than our ideological differences.  It is the only way to thrive.   
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Friday, February 24, 2012

Wake-up Call: Gas Prices

For God's sake, stop blaming the president for gas prices AND telling him to leave big business alone.  As with so many other things, you get to pick one.  Either he leaves them alone and they gouge you, all the while pumping money into the campaign of his competitors (who, conveniently, want to let them regulate themselves), or he steps in and makes them do the decent thing and stop throttling the public just to help their side win a damned election.  You don't get both and, in the end, you're doing exactly what the people who have been breaking profit records since the last president, at your expense, want.  Think, then speak, not the other way around. Read more!

What the Founding Fathers Probably Meant: Part 9

Amendment Eight: “Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.”

The eighth amendment shifts perspective back to the criminal side of the justice system.  It’s a pretty clear-cut resolution that establishes the bail system, by which a prisoner can be released pending sentencing by putting down a deposit to guarantee their return for trial, and states that any fines or punishments levied should not be excessive.  The intent is clear and it all seems simple enough, right?

Cut to a couple hundred years later, when the capitalist system has really taken off and the other amendments, as we’ve discussed, have had their way with the justice system and a few unforeseen issues arise.

First, while there are limitations on bail, they’re set at pretty standard levels, backed up by decades of precedent which, as has previously been discussed, we as Americans are loathe to go against, even when reason clearly says we should.  What it comes down to, as with so many other issues with the justice system, is socioeconomic inequality. 

Say two men are arrested for urinating on a public building.  The first man works a full-time minimum wage job.  After taxes, which he pays in full because he can’t afford an accountant and has no investments, he takes home about $13,000 a year.  The second man, who comes from a wealthy background and does not work, but instead derives his income from a trust which earns him, conservatively, about one million dollars a year, taxed at the same rate as the man who makes minimum wage, ends up with about $850,000 in the bank.

At arraignment, the first man, who cannot afford a lawyer, is assigned an overburdened public defender who gets him a standard bail of $5,000.  The second man, who has a private attorney, will likely be released on his own recognizance by a judge as harried as the first man’s counsel, on the basis that he is a wealthy and influential citizen with strong ties to the community and, thereby, not a flight risk for so paltry a charge.  But, for the sake of argument, let’s say he got the same bail agreement.

A bail bondsman typically charges ten percent of the bail, or $500, to post.  That would, for the first man, be the equivalent of about seventy hours of work, or an entire paycheck.  For the second, it would be just under an hour and a half’s worth of his income.  What’s more, if the first man is unable to post his bail, he will spend his time in jail, waiting for trial, which can take, on average, about a year to get a court date, losing his job, anyway, and being unable to provide for anyone depending upon him.  The second man would continue to draw interest, even in jail, and be wealthier when he came out than when he went in, as the state would have paid his living costs for the year. 

What’s more, the first man is far more likely to be convicted, or strike a deal, and still have to pay a fine of anywhere from $500-1000 which, as we’ve shown, is a substantial portion of his income, while the second, even if levied with the same fine, could pay it without suffering much financial inconvenience.  Anyone seeing the problem yet? 

The entire point of the first clause was to create a system that made it so that everyone got a fair shake.  The problem, however, is that, while it looks good on paper, its implementation is problematic and, as with much of the system, drastically skewed to favor the wealthier citizens.  The way the system has evolved, the bails and fines, when forced upon the country’s poor, clearly violate the tenet prohibiting them being excessive.

The second clause suffers from the same problem; it’s much too generalized.  While in the first, the implementation doesn’t take into account the impact of standardized fines on the wealthy versus the poor, the second clause doesn’t clearly state what should be considered cruel and unusual punishment, the meaning of which has evolved, over time, into something very different than once it did.

For instance, in the 1950s, it was not uncommon to see prisoners doing public works projects.  They would rise early in the morning, have breakfast, work an eight hour day, with a break for lunch, then head back to spend the evening, after dinner, watching a movie once a week or socializing with other prisoners in a free period prior to bed.  That was prison life.  While it was as brutal then as now, something to be expected when putting a number of violent people in a confined space for a long period, it was punishment.

These days, prisoners have sued, and won, because they were denied the right to cable television or pornographic magazines, on the basis that they were being denied their rights.  The same for extra pudding in the cafeteria.  These are real cases, brought to court and decided in the favor of the prisoners because of that second clause.  An honest day’s work, three squares and a bed, something for which a lot of Americans would be thankful these days, have become cruel and unusual.  There’s something really wrong there.

Taking it a step further, and addressing again the social inequality, we’ve created white collar prisons, separate from those to which we send the violent offenders, for those criminals who have committed non-violent crimes, usually things like embezzlement or financial fraud.  While unable to leave, these offenders are given a great deal of freedom within the prison and are, as whole, generally given a nicer lifestyle.  This is justified by the second clause of the eighth, because they shouldn’t be put in with the general population, as they did not commit harm to others. 

Well, okay, they didn’t do it directly, but tell that to anyone who lost everything in their retirement plans to a Ponzi scheme (that’s where those guys go, for a few years) or to an embezzling accountant (them, too).   What’s more, the people they robbed rarely get back anything, as we’ve created a tax system that allows them to hide the money and a justice system that won’t let us use the force of the law to make them give it back.  I say we let them spend some time in a real prison and see how quickly they’re willing to fork over the cash after a couple of nights with their new cellmate, Tiny.

The intent of the law is wonderful.  When it comes to this one, the founding fathers didn’t drop the ball.  We have.  Big time.  Financial burdens should hurt the rich as much as they hurt the poor and prisons should be the same for everyone.  Period.  End of story.
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Thursday, February 23, 2012

A Quote: Dean Koontz's 77 Shadow Street

Though I'll be reviewing this when I finish it, this quote struck me as embodying perfectly the hope that runs through even the darkest of his work, which is what consistently brings me back to it.

"Death was merely the price of admission, cheap if you considered all that it bought you.  Fearing death meant also fearing life, which stole all meaning from the act of living." - Dean Koontz ~ 77 Shadow Street

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Wednesday, February 22, 2012

What the Founding Fathers Probably Meant: Part 8


Amendment Seven: “In Suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury, shall be otherwise re-examined in any Court of the United States, than according to the rules of the common law.”

As the fifth and sixth amendments laid the foundation for America’s criminal courts, the seventh does the same for civil proceedings.  It states that any reasonably-sized (twenty bucks was a lot, at the time) financial disagreements could be brought before a jury for resolution and that the findings of said jury would be legally binding without intervention by the judicial system, except in making certain that everything was run as it should have been under common law.

Thus was born the American tort system, by which a wronged party could demand compensation from another.  Remember when I said way back that the second amendment was probably the most controversial these days?  I added the probably part because this one is running neck and neck.  While everyone agrees that the concept is sound and reasonable, its execution has become one of the major issues facing our current legal system.

Americans, being industrious and innovative (and some would say, with good cause, opportunistic), took this law and ran with it.  While it has been pivotal in a great deal of social change, drawing attention to a number of insidious issues from civil rights to basic health and safety concerns, it has also done a great deal of harm.  Because citizens can sue for just about anything, with few financial or legal repercussions other than the cost of a crooked lawyer, they have.  I draw your attention to such infamous cases as the woman who won millions for spilling hot coffee in her lap to the guy who sued the homeowner of a house he was injured while trying to rob.

And those are just two mainstream examples of abuse of the tort system that has led America to be branded worldwide as an infamously litigious culture.  While the founding fathers wanted to make certain we were protected, and guarantee that the criminal courts weren’t backed up with deliberating civil matters while neglecting their actual responsibilities, it’s all gone a little out of control, leading to all sorts of unforeseen problems.

They failed to take into account, for one, that we, as a species, when faced with severe emotional distress, want to find someone to blame, even in cases where it wasn’t really anyone’s fault.  This leads to frivolous lawsuits that serve only to burden the legal system and both parties with the financial cost and, perhaps more importantly, prevent the person hurting from having to face and cope with the real problems.  This mentality is often the basis for medical malpractice suits, something held to be one of the leading causes of skyrocketing healthcare costs.  So we all pay.  The same with car insurance, as people who are injured tend to try to milk the system for all that it’s worth, rather than just what’s needed to cover expenses.

What’s more, because there is no clause in the seventh that guarantees that the trial in civil matters will be expeditious, as there is in those establishing the criminal system, the system has become heavily biased towards large corporations and the wealthy, both of whom can afford huge legal teams which allow them to file endless streams of motions to drain the resources of wronged parties, thereby running out the clock and waylaying what may be real justice.

This can’t be how the founders intended it to be, can it?  So how do we maintain the spirit of the law, that of due restitution for the wronged?  Well, first we establish a very clear, concise set of guidelines for motions, so as to prevent the aforementioned abuses of the system and level the playing field on a socioeconomic level. 

Next, we levy punishment against those who bring to court suits which have no evidentary or logical basis.  Already, in a number of European nations, if the case brought before the court is found to be lacking in substance, for whatever reason, during the initial process, it is summarily dismissed, as it is here, but it also the party who brought forth the case to  pay both the costs for the court and the defendant’s legal counsel.  This cuts down substantially on the number of groundless suits.

Finally, we institute mandatory minimums and maximums on cash settlements, allowing for only a percentage above the cost of the reparations.  No longer will someone who sues for $500 in medical costs be awarded a million on top of it for pain and suffering.  At most, we tack on the cost of therapy to the bill, so they can get real help, if it’s that much of an issue. 

While those steps wouldn’t solve everything, I’m sure, they would go a long way towards bringing back the kind spirit of the law and, as a side benefit, may help the average citizen by lowering the costs of those things inflated by its rampant abuse.
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Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Penguin and the Polar Bear


The Penguin and the Polar Bear

Once upon a time, there was a penguin.  She was, as penguins go, rather pretty.  Her flippers were slender, her form sleek.  Her feathers were dark and sleek and shone like the sun on a bright arctic morning.  She was tall and proud.  Even her gait was regal, unlike the customary penguin waddle, and when she swam, she became one with the water, coursing through it with grace and ease.  And how she loved to swim.

One afternoon, the other penguins of her waddle (that being the traditionally accepted term for a large group of the creatures) began to leave the water and head up onto the icy shore with some haste.  The penguin quickly scanned the depths for whatever it was that could have been causing such a kerfuffle and, finding no predators in the area or, really, any other reason for the exodus, chalked it all up to the overly curious nature of her fellow fowl. 

While she was admittedly prone to such things herself, she made it a point not to follow the crowd, when at all possible, and chose instead to wait awhile before heading out to investigate.  So she swam and swam, enjoying the warm (relatively speaking) summer water.  Finally, when she needed to surface for air, and to have a quick peek, she shot out and landed gracefully on the snowy bank. 
What she found there took her by surprise.  While she’d expected all sorts of strange and wondrous things, many of them fantastical, what she did not expect was to find, far off on the horizon, all the other penguins, marching away.  Startled, unsure of what was going on, she began to chase after them, thankful for the full belly of shrimp and anchovies that she’d brought along.

As the day wore on, she began to grow worried that she wouldn’t catch up and eventually became too tired to go on.  Though she was sure the rest of her waddle must be as well, they didn’t seem to want to stop.  Try as she might, though, she couldn’t make herself walk or slide any further without a quick nap.  So down she went, secure in the knowledge that she knew the direction in which they were traveling and that she would, of course, catch up with them in no time, once she was refreshed.

 *   *   *   *   *

When she awoke, her belly warmed by the sun, it took a moment for her to realize that she could no longer hear the other penguins off in the distance, calling to one another.  Getting to her feet, she began to follow in what she was certain was their wake.  Unfortunately, though there are any number of exceptional things about penguins, their sense of direction is not among them and, very quickly, she found herself lost and wandering the open white world all alone.   Worse still, it was beginning to get colder.

And, as the days passed, and the penguin became more and more despondent, it grew colder still.  Each time she laid her beak beneath her wing to rest, she shivered a little more and thought more longingly of the warmth of her friends all pressing against one another to keep out the wind.  What she tried not to think about was what her mother and father warned her became of penguins separated from the waddle come the frigid winter.  That prospect chilled her more deeply than the stiffening gales, but only a little.

*   *   *   *   *

On the fourth day, she began to call out to the other penguins, hoping that, should they hear her, they would wait and allow her to catch up.  Louder and louder she called as she walked toward the horizon, but to no avail.  It seemed she was well and truly lost.  As the day wore on, it began to snow, big, fat flakes, at first, then smaller, more multitudinous ones until, eventually, she could barely see. 

Stumbling through the blizzard, blinded by the icy storm, she tried to find somewhere to take shelter.  All around were hollows, but none that would offer any real protection from what was shaping up to be a whopper of a storm.  She began to call again, this time in despair.

Then, just as she was losing hope, she heard someone calling back.  A deep and decidedly unpenguin-like bass cut through the roar of the storm, calling for her to follow.  Though she was unsure as to what was guiding her steps, she decided that it couldn’t be much worse than the predicament in which she currently found herself, so she followed it to a nearby cave.

As she stepped into the cave and saw its sole other occupant, she found herself suddenly re-evaluating her notion of relative safety.  For, sitting on giant haunches at the far end of the hollow, was a massive polar bear.  And he was grinning.

“Hello,” he said, waving a furry paw roughly the size of her torso.

Some latent instinct kicked in, burrowing out from deep within her little penguin hind brain, and she let out a blood-curdling screech, preparing to bolt and take her chances in the elements.  When she let loose the ear-shattering burst, the polar bear’s eyes widened to the size of…very wide eyes, indeed, and he held up his paws, letting out what he would later swear was a hugely virile, extremely masculine roar but what sounded, in point of fact, much more like a girlish howl. 

At the sound of it, the penguin’s own shriek quickly devolved into a laugh which, given the shock of the encounter coupled with the stress of the few preceding days, had more than a little touch of hysteria.  Even as she did so, though, she made a break for the mouth of the cave.

“Wait, wait,” the bear rumbled, “you can’t go back out there.  You’ll catch your death in that kind of weather.”

She turned and looked him squarely in the eye and replied, “And if I stay in this cave with a polar bear, you won’t have to catch your next meal.”

The bear raised a bushy eyebrow.  “I am not that sort of bear.”

The penguin snorted, crossing her flippers and taking not a single step further into the cave.

“Honestly,” he said, “I’m not.  I’m fish only.  Well, and the occasional slow-moving seal,” he added, licking his chops a little.  “Anyway, if I were that kind of bear, wouldn’t I have pounced the moment you walked in?”

“Hm,” she clucked, obviously not buying it.  Despite her every penguiny instinct telling her otherwise, she found the bear a little disarming, sincere even.  She was beginning to think that he may just be a very clever bear when she happened to glace over to see him batting happily at the errant snowflakes that made their way in on the breeze.

“Say I do believe you,” she began, holding up a wary flipper, “and I’m not saying that I do, mind you, but if I did, I’m not sure why you brought me in here, if not to devour me whole.”

The old bear shrugged his shaggy shoulders and replied matter-of-factly, “You seemed like you were lost and alone out there.  I don’t think anyone deserves to be lost and alone.”

The words were so simple, spoken so honestly, that they very nearly brought down the walls the penguin had, without realizing it, constructed around her tiny penguin heart to keep out all the fear and loneliness that had begun to slowly fill it since she awoke that first morning, away from everything and everyone she’d ever known.  She began to cry.

Before she could stop him, the bear reached out and scooped her up into his giant arms.  She knew she should be terrified, but they were warm and fuzzy and welcoming, so much so that she burrowed down into them until she could hear nothing but the thump-thump-thump of his big bear heart.  And it was that rhythm, when the tears finally stopped, that carried her off to sleep.

*   *   *   *   *

The little penguin who had fallen asleep to a heartbeat woke up to a most unfamiliar, but somehow soothing, rumbling.  She squirmed her way out from beneath what seemed like a small mountain of warm, white fur to find the bright sun streaming into the cave, no hint of the storm left except in the blanket of fresh, powdery snow on the world outside, though it took the eye of one who’d lived in the arctic to recognize the difference.

As she waddled over to the mouth of the cave to look out on the world, hoping a little that she would see her waddle somewhere out there, the bear turned onto his back with a huff.

Turning back to him, she said, cheerfully, “Good morning.”

He pried open one dark eye, glaring a bit, then shut it again before giving a yawn for the books and sitting up.  “And to you.”

“Do you live in this cave?” she asked conversationally.

“I do for the moment.”  He leaned against the cool cavern wall, yawning again.  “We polar bears tend not to stay in one place for too long, except during the colder months, which we prefer to simply sleep through.  Hence,” he gestured, “my new home.”

At the mention of the cold times, the little penguin’s heart seized up a bit.  She didn’t know what she would do out there, especially if there was another storm.  Penguins who didn’t have their waddles to keep them warm…She shivered.

“What’s wrong?” the old bear asked.

The penguin swallowed, her tummy in knots.  “I wasn’t just lost in a storm when you found me,” she said, “I’ve been separated from my waddle.”

The bear’s huge brow came together, confusion in his eyes.  The penguin sighed.

“That’s what we’re called, we penguins, when we’re all together.  A waddle.”

“Ah,” said the bear, obviously incredulous but willing to go along with it, anyway.  “But you’ve lost yours?”

The penguin, a lump in her throat, just nodded a little.

“And you’re worried that you won’t be able to make it out there without them?”

She nodded again.

“Well,” he broached, “perhaps we can help one another out.”

She cocked her head to the side, not following.

“I’m about to seal myself up in the cave here, to sleep away the cold times.  Maybe, if you like, you can stay here with me?  I admit that I’m no substitute for a…waddle of penguins, but I keep plenty warm and I’m sure I wouldn’t mind sharing some of that.”

The penguin shook her head.  “That’s a very generous offer, very generous, but I couldn’t possibly put you out like that.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be, not at all!” the bear grinned.  “I haven’t mentioned your part of the bargain.”

The penguin looked at him skeptically.

“When I wake up from my long naps, I’m generally quite ravenous…” he began before being interrupted by an appalled penguin squeak.  “No, no!  I’m not suggesting…”

“What exactly did you mean by that, then?” she squawked indignantly, her sleek feathers ruffling.  “I won’t be your breakfast!”

“Of course not!” the bear said quickly.  “I told you I was a strictly anti-penguin eating bear.  I just thought that maybe, when the world starts to warm again, you could just start stockpiling a few fish for me.  That’s all.  Besides,” he added with another bearish chuckle, “you’d barely be a snack.”

“That,” she said, smacking him with a flipper, “is not funny.”  But she smiled, all the same, suddenly feeling a little less alone in the big white world.

*   *   *   *   *

And so it went that the polar bear sealed up the cave, save for a tiny, penguin-sized hole in the door, so she could go outside, should she have the urge, and another in the ice at the far end, so she could go for a swim and fish through the winter.  Then, with very little ceremony and little more than a good night, he laid down to sleep.

In all her life, the penguin had never seen anyone sleep so soundly.  He rarely moved, except to shift position, and made no sound save for little chuffs and snores now and then.  And she swam, catching fish and passing the day watching for her waddle.  At the end of each day, she would make her way back into the cave and curl up beside the big old bear, who would, very gently, wrap his big paws around her, making a nice, comfy bed.

Time passed and each day she would wake, swim for a while, then head back out to watch the horizon.  The days grew shorter and shorter, colder and colder, until, eventually, the sun stopped coming at all. 

And then it got colder, so much so that, eventually, she didn’t leave the bear’s side except to fish.  She’d heard about the long night, but never experienced it before.  The world without the sun made her little heart heavy and she was afraid she might, in the darkness, miss them, if they came back by.  Being with the bear, though, kept the cold at bay, both in the cave and in her heart.

Then, just when she thought the night would never end, it did.  She opened her eyes and saw the first rays of the morning sun peeking through her doorway.  She jumped to her feet and ran out to greet it, dancing merrily in the warming rays.  Then she remembered her part of the bargain she’d made with the polar bear and got to work. 

Every day, when she returned from getting her breakfast, she would put aside a fish or two for him until, when he finally began to stir, yawning fitfully with a smacking sound, there was quite the pile indeed.  His nose seemed to wake first, sniffing at the air before he opened one eye, focusing first, very briefly, on the fish, then on her.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile.

“Good morning to you, too, miss penguin,” he said.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, knowing that he had, but being polite, all the same.

“I did,” he said, somewhat impatiently, his gaze travelling inexorably towards the fish with growing frequency.  The penguin giggled.

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” he grunted, getting to his feet and making his way over to the pile where he proceeded to gorge himself happily.

When he finished, he leaned back with his big paws on a slightly distended belly and gave her a satisfied grin.

“That was wonderful,” he told her with a little hiccup.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she replied sincerely, waddling over to sit beside him, enjoying his warmth, as, while the sun may be it out, it was still awfully chilly. 

They sat that way for a long time before either of them spoke, simply enjoying one another’s company.  Then they began to talk.  She told him all about the long night and then her family and friends.  He told her about his own family, who had been lost long ago.  When he spoke of them, of his mother, father and brother, there was a sadness in his voice that very nearly broke her heart, so she cuddled up a little closer.  It seemed to help.

More time passed, and the world grew warmer as they got to know one another.  The bear unpacked the door and they went out wandering, the little penguin riding on his broad back so that she wouldn’t get lost again and could always find her way home. 

Finally, one morning, she awoke to find him already awake, standing in the mouth of the cave, staring off at something she couldn’t see off in the distance.  Just as she began to ask what it was that had him so rapt, she heard it, the distant but unmistakable voices of other penguins. 

Jumping up, she raced to the door and saw, not very far off, a huge line of penguins walking back in the direction from which she’d come.  Her heart leapt up into her throat and she gave an excited squeal, calling out to them.  She looked over at the bear, who’d said nothing.

“I was just about to wake you,” he said.  “I heard them early this morning.”  He turned his head toward her.  “Are they yours?” he asked.

She nodded, finding her throat suddenly unable to squeeze out any words.  Inexplicably, her heart was torn.  She wanted to run to the other penguins, to rejoin the waddle, but, at the same time, she didn’t want to leave the bear behind. 

Then, because she was never one to willingly give up someone she loved, and she did love the big old bear, she said to him, softly, “I love you, bear.  Come back with me.  I’m sure that you could be one of us.”

He looked at her for a long time, and she saw all sorts of things cross his furry face, from sadness to hope to a tiny touch of fear.  “But what if they don’t want me?” he said.

She nuzzled him with her beak, speaking into his thick white coat.  “How could they not?  Silly bear.”
And that, as they say, was that.

*   *   *   *   *
So the penguin and the polar bear, whose long strides could more than outdistance those of even the swiftest penguin, caught up on the very next day with the waddle.  After a bit of initial hysterics, for which penguins are, among all the artic creatures, notorious, she began to sell them on the idea of their newest, hairiest member.  After all, how many waddles can say that they have one of nature’s most perfect predators on their side?  And besides, he was, when it came down to it, very much like a penguin, wasn’t he?  He was white and black and loved both fish and swimming.  What more could you ask for?  She was very persuasive and they agreed, on a trial basis.

As they all walked back to the shore, the other penguins, being even more good-natured than they were prone to hysterics, if that were possible, warmed to the idea and, by the time they got to the ocean, had officially adopted the polar bear, especially the brand new little ones, who seemed to take great joy in clambering all over him and cuddling beneath his chubby mounds of soft, warm fur.
So they spent a warm, wonderful season together, the penguin and the polar bear and, when the days began to grow shorter and the other penguins began to leave, they made a decision that, while it saddened the others, was eventually deemed very prudent and wise.

They followed the waddle as far as their cave, where they decided they would stay for the cold months, as they had the year before, just in case any other penguins were accidentally left behind and needed a bit of rescuing, as she had. 

They did the same the next year, and the year after.  And, as time passed, they did rescue a penguin or two who, for whatever reason, had missed the proverbial boat.  And those penguins would, every once in a while, decide to do the same until, many years later, there was a whole network of penguins who elected to stay behind and watch the road, just in case.  And each of them, down the years, would tell anyone they spent the cold months with the story of that first penguin and her polar bear, who, of course, lived happily ever after.
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Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Lifetimes


Deep brown eyes, Mahogany hair
She carries the scent
Of a bookstore I once knew,
Of incense and coffee,
Ageless words
And the exhilaration of possibility
In a blue dress and inquisitive gaze
That carry me,
Backwards and forwards,
Through lifetimes lived
And to be lived.
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