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7:00 p.m. - 2005-09-02
Thanksgiving in September

Alas....a 3 day weekend to actually enjoy and I'm very very thankful to be able to enjoy it.

When my thoughts turn to self pity, I turn on the radio and am instantly reminded that I have nothing to moan about. I can't get my mind around the situation in Lousiana....it is just too much to actually comprehend.

I can no way empathize with people in that situation because I nor anyone I am close to has ever been involved in a situation even remotely like this.

I would like to say, I sympathize with them, but I can't even begin to sense what they are going through.

Because I can't describe how my mind is dealing with this, other than to say I have this terrible feeling of dread, I will just pray for them and continue to count my own blessings.

Let me share a couple of thoughts though: Disaster brings out the best and the worst in human beings. The better a person one is, the more the goodness shines through. The scum of the earth, barely teetering on being human, have sunk to below animal status. I don't even know of any animals that would band together into gangs to prevent others of their kind from being helped just for their own chance to become kings of a devasted city. I am reminded of that Dr. Suess book, "Yertle the Turtle" who ended up King of the mud. It certainly is a living lesson in sociology.

Another thing that blows me away is the term "REFUGEE". I know that a refugee is a person seeking refuge and the displaced people of New Orleans are definitly seeking refuge, thereby earning the title "REFUGEE", however to this American, a "REFUGEE" has always been some tattered, 3rd worlder fleeing some terrible event in another country.

I think in pictures and when I hear the term "REFUGEE", I never think of Americans like myself. A refugee is always some foreigner.

So, because this is the first 3 day weekend I will get to really just relax since starting my new job (the others were spent traveling and moving), I will be content with that. Sunday will be a wonderful day. My sister and her family are coming over early in the afternoon to help me clean my yard up a bit after the treehouse dismemberment, then my daughter and her beau will come by later and we will share a dinner in honor of her 25th birthday.

We will share dinner and family in my high and dry, shady respite of a yard in my own home in the beautiful Fox Valley, Elgin Illinois and not hungry on a rooftop smelling the stench of floating bodies and excrement or crammed into a domed stadium with 10,000 others where the bathrooms no longer work.'

P. I. Yarnsmith

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