To the best friend in the whole world, counting down to her birthday

Mariah:

I've known you for almost twenty years now, that's a long, long time. It's only fair to say though that it feels like you have been there through my lifetime. You know me, the real me, better than my sisters, than my parents ever will. Family is funny concept,there are the guys you love because they are blood and there are the ones you let in because they are your blood type.

Each year I wreck my brain trying to find a present that you will enjoy more than anything in the world. It's damn hard, almost impossible and as it turns out, I end up buying something that fits me like a glove. You'll open it and smile and thank me with the kindness of your heart, making a little mental note about my tendency towards the cult of personality.

If you have taken the time to notice how I is so prominent in this letter, then you catch my drift. This is, after all another egotistical missive. A musing of myself to myself praising my greatest accomplishment at a personal level: to score a friend like you.

There are lots of things you have done for me that turned out to be advantageous over the years, more than- I unashamedly admit- I have done for you. I might be self centered and a bit megalomaniac, but I curb myself enough to be grateful.

So, here it goes, Myself and I present the many reasons why you are my best friend and I love you, maybe not more, but as much as I love ME.

• You are the oddest person I know. Take it as a compliment, wear it proudly. It has nothing to do with the way you look or the things you do, but with what you give. You are a beacon my dear, a crazy magnet. The wild, lost child that lives in me, saw you, held tight to your jean straps and never let go. Together we walked out of a Metal Mission Meeting, never looking back. After all, better than killer riffs God loves a twisted, dark sense of humor and we've been laughing at His jokes ever since then.






• You are also the most patient person I've ever known. Back when I was twenty and decided I'd live my life, write the great American novel, have an extravagant affair and die, gloriously spent and filthy rich- or genius Poe poor, depending on the mood-at twenty five, you read all my stories. You read them, even though you secretly wanted to be a Rock Star as far from my prose as possible. You read them and gave me nice pointers that I found best to follow. As you did, you didn't wrinkle your nose or rolled your eyes. It might have crossed your mind to burst my bubble. More than once the stars were perfectly aligned for you to say: "Stop it, you pompous ass, Stoker sits in the Throne with Rice at his right and Brite at his left and this shit ain't worth a pass"- but you never did. Thank you






• There's something that started back then and lingers today, oblivious to time and distance between us. It's scary now, as it was then and still a mystery. As I recall it all began with Louis de Pointe Dulac and his eventual incarnation in Brad Pitt. Ever since, we've shared the same fangirl obsessions. Our current fixations need not to be discussed as whatever rocks your boat will also make waves around mine, except for werewolves.






• You are the most enduring friend I've ever had because you understand that I hate phones and will sacrifice hours on the line for thirty minutes of solid face to face interaction. Whenever I don't call, you know I'm fine and when I do, you know it's also well. When we meet in any given airport for one of our crazy escapades and I hug you really, really tight with complete disregard of breaking bones, it feels that I just saw you yesterday.






• While at it, thank you for Florida, New York, New Orleans, a hazy weekend in Baltimore, a week in Rome and the best day I've had in the Island, trying to figure out whales from rolling waves and figments of overactive imagination at Rincon Beach. Fortuna and Bacchus know where my next drunken revelation will take us. You always say yes with ease and I end up having the best of times.






• All in all you've been with me through thick and thin. Your eyes didn't hurt when I went through my monochromatic period of clothes and accessories back in the early 90's. Your delicate strides put up with my clumsy construction style boots while we made our way through College. Well, you made your way. I frantically ran through Physics and Psychology with long intervals of failure in Math until my weary brain decided to give up and go for Literature. Thanks for the long days of trying to burn into my psyche the numerical interpretation of the phrase ALL SILVER TEA CUPS while I fancied pouring delicious, sweet, steamy concoctions in each one of them.






• You've been there in my comings and goings, my stepping in and falling on my ass off the diet wagon, my many changes of mood, surpassed only by my changes in hair color,my rants, comedic or not, my drama, my thinking I've found Mr. Right and my swearing off looking. It's been almost twenty years of tagging along, running scared, avoiding Karaoke, getting lost in parking lots, being the victims of alien life force, talking nonsense of great meaning, doing snail mail, email, Facebook, talking on the phone a lot less than we should, taking walking tours and museum exploring to new heights, guy, errr, bird watching and a whole bunch of miscellaneous stuff.

Through all and in truth, I don't know exactly how many times I've stopped to say THANK YOU, but since I don't remember I don't think there's been enough. I still have some twenty odd days to get your birthday present. I'm afraid I might not nail it in the head, old habits die hard after all.

Sometimes I look at Kendra who is right here and now the one person I love more than myself. Remember that day I forgot all about your birthday and dragged you through the mall hunting for a Tickle Me Ernie because I was so uber excited about my niece? My very best friend went presentless and elapsed because I had baby fever. I hit myself over the head for it through all the weekend, because of my forgetfulness and your gracious silence about it. Had it been me, I would have gone " Hell-Oh, it's my frigging birthday!!!!!!" I guess my point is she is growing up so fast and starting to differentiate between classmates, acquaintances and true and through friends. I hope, for her sake and for my peace of mind that she finds this one wonderful, uncompromised, crazy friend that will be as good as mine. A friend like you is good enough to be set for life.

Many happy, happy returns, my sister from another mister.

9/11 and those who won't let the collective get some closure

It started a bit reflection, ended a bit Theology Corner, but it always happens to my with this particular day...

I am done with my grief. I am ready to move forward. I said so last year on the first anniversary of the event in which I was able to watch footage of it all without hot tears streaming down. Last year I was able to discuss it with my niece, who was barely 3 years old at back then, for the very first time, because I wanted to do it with a clear sense of history, without chocking or sobbing.







It doesn't mean that I will forget the clothes that I was wearing on that day, or the fact that Lysandra dug her nails deep into my left arm as she screamed "oh my God there's another plane coming" as we watched a live feed. And I'm still grateful to God that the initial word that escaped my mouth after measuring act and consequence was "mercy."







Yes I went through the motions. The cursing, the raging, the wishing the US Military will change the landscape of whatever country was behind it forever... the attempt at understanding a a new war that was to be waged that is tinged with a religious aspect that the Western World does not seem to understand completely, the quiet mourning for people I didn't know, that the world didn't know and yet in an instant, we all had but one degree of separation. I've witnessed as through the years it has all become a note on political landscape, yet another reason to play the blame game every four years. I also saw the heart of a city catch it's beat again, never stopping, unbreakable. I'm just glad that through all this, "mercy" stayed with me.







Which brings me to the latest point of contention and you know this is coming. "Park 51 Project" was going to take center piece on my little musing today, until it's crazy brother "International Burn a Koran Day" reared it's ugly head in my own backyard.







Before anyone starts thinking how the hell can I raise two disparate things to the same level, well I was never good at math, but one thing that I really liked about numbers it that they all had a lowest common denominator. At the heart of the matter of these two separate issues lies a simple truth: just because you are granted to do something, doesn't mean you have to, doesn't make it right.







Lots of people have risen up to criticize president Obama on his declarations about Park 51 Project (that's how it's called although it is AKA Ground Zero Mosque). Obama might not be my cup of tea as many know, but I will grant him the fair chance to go over ALL his words in the matter. I will paraphrase boys and girls since you are smart enough to look up your sources, The President granted the right to build, but also declined to comment on the wisdom behind the decision.







Everyone knows that nothing will stand if the ground is not ready and although NYC rises on a bedrock, the emotional landscape is not ready, not yet, because the collective has not found their peace.







My advise to the people behind Park 51, build it if you must, but build it as a bridge, open it to Jews and Christians and openly condemn those who thirst for violence. In order for all to heal, you can't keep your religion and your intentions veiled from the city (ALL puns intended). If you have to build it there, then do so and preach it hard, for the world to hear:



"Oh man kind , you where created from a single soul, male and female, and made you into nations and tribes, so that you may come to know one and other. Truly the most honored of you in Allah's sight is the greatest of you in piety. Allah is all knowing, All aware." The Quran 49:13



It is time, in the best interest of all, that moderate Islam articulates heavily and vehemently their opposition to the radicalization of their religion. I would have given my right arm to hear the words Mecca condemns you, the Prophet abhors you and Allah will show no mercy in relation to Osama bin Laden back then, or even now. That alone would have won the war on terror. It is the challenge to those behind Park 51, they owe it to us all, to live by their book in it's purest undiluted interpretation. It is not my book, it's yours, it is not my opportunity, it's yours. Use it, and do so well. If you can't live up to what the city expects of you, of what is right to all, you have the right to build, just not there, as easy as that.





MY book says a couple of interesting things too, things that I will gladly share with "Pastor" Terry Jones, here in sunny Florida.





I will go off and I'll do so harder than I could go on crazed Muslims, because it is my Bible, my religion, my responsibility towards fellow men and my Christ on the line here.


Stop the hatred and the thinly disguised bigotry. That is not the path to healing. Stop the vicious rhetoric and the false idea that acts like this will strengthen Christianity and unite people of faith.





Christians are loosing ground in this Country because of people like you, a vocal minority that is selling us all out as grade A lunatics. I am a Christian and I live by a simple act of faith that comprises believing that Jesus is both God and His anointed one, that he came to Earth, lived, died and resurrected and will come back again to judge both living and dead.While that moment comes, as His follower, it is my call to prevent judgement by bringing about His message:


"LOVE one and other, as I have loved you" (John 15:12) It is so simple, yet so direct that the word love appears 554 times through and through... I guess my book is not your book.





Giving into this ridiculous act of mock patriotism and pseudo religious piety will not only endanger troops overseas- (Dear Pastor Terry Jones and your Yosemite Sam mustache, get ready for your Al Qaeda closeup, you'll be their recruiting poster boy, you fruitcake)- it will destroy any good faith between religions. Go ahead and burn your bridges to dialogue, if you want, but don't do it in the name of my God and my Savior, do not tarnish my faith as some other crazies in the Middle East have tarnished theirs.

If you can't speak in love if you can't walk in love, you still have the right to spew your idiocy, but take God out of the equation, place the root of you actions where they truly belong, as easy as that.





For the sake of all lost and those who are still in harms way, let's keep this day, September 11, holy to all, open to all. It is our tragedy, it is our right to rise above it without people raising their own standards in the name of us all. I'm done with my grief and will wait for the time when we all forgive the acts and never forget the lessons of 9/11.