Remembrance

Lately my literary tastes have tended to gravitate more towards nonfiction, specifically Nazi Germany-related nonfiction. This was probably spurned by a recent viewing of "Schindler's List" with my husband, who had never seen it. I purchased the book that the movie came from the next day and plodded through it that night. I say "plodded" because it's a very depressing read, which is no surprise to anyone, I'm sure. One can't help thinking, "How did this happen? Why did they let it happen?" Surely there were enough Germans to instigate an uprising to end this terrible dictatorship.

Next, I read "Night" by Elie Weisel, which was a re-read, since we covered it in Religious and Historical Perspectives in college. If you haven't read it, please, do so. Also pick up the other novels and nonfiction that Mr. Weisel has written. You won't be sorry if you're a fan of serious literature.

Finally, I'm currently reading "The Good Old Days" which is subtitled "The Holocaust as Seen by Its Perpetrators and Bystanders." I haven't finished it yet, but what I have read puts a whole new perspective on my earlier questions. It's amazing to read in their own words (the book has an extensive collection of letters written home by soldiers, doctors, various SS men, etc.) how they felt about the atrocities that they were committing.

There are people today who deny that the holocaust even happened. How can this be? Have these people suffered only for their suffering to be denied? We must remember the fallen Jews and those who lived to escape. There are others who need to be remembered as well. The homosexuals who were interred and suffered in concentration camps were still considered criminals by their government under laws that weren't revoked until the late 1950s. There are only about 13 of those homosexuals alive today, and they weren't even given recognition as victims of the camps until 2000. Those the Nazis called gypsies were also killed in the death camps, as well as political dissidents.

All this happened while the world sat idly by, or gave into his demands because they thought he would stop. Frightening.

Mac and Me

My husband and I are about as different as daylight and dark. He is blue-eyed and blonde, tall and muscular, a blue collar worker, and he adores red meat. I, on the other hand, am short, black-haired, a white collar worker, and I really don't eat much meat at all. Oh, and he's 23. I'm 31. There is that.

One would wonder what business two people like that have being married. We've been married for 4 years. He was 19, I had just turned 28 when we walked down the aisle. I already had two children from a previous relationship. He had graduated from high school the year before. I was a paralegal and a prestigious law firm. He was training to be an auto mechanic.

We both adore role playing games, which is how we met. I was completely unaware until then that girls who play RPGs are considered sexy by the males who also play, mainly because there are way too few of us. He asked me to go out with him the third time we were in each other's company. Reluctantly, I accepted. Two nights later, we loaded up my kids, per his request, and went to see Shrek. I was hooked.

Now, this is why we work: Deep down, we really like each other. That sounds simple, but it makes all the difference in the world. He's the first person I think about when something goes down in my life. I can't wait to share funny jokes with him, or to watch a movie with him, even if I've seen it before, just to see how he reacts. I love to cook for him, since his mother relied mostly on KFC for dinner. And Mac? He loves to take me fishing, which I had never done before we met. He loves the way I trust him and value his opinion. He laughs at my jokes and holds me when I cry. In short, we're best friends.

Please forgive me for saying this, but it's true: I would rather hold his hand for five minutes than spend three hours with the world's most talented gigolo.

So, here's to Mac. He's more man than any man I've ever known.

Signs that you are not ready to have a baby

1. Your mother and father give you an allowance.

2. You're still growing physically (for example: If you've changed a shoe size within the last year, you're too young to reproduce).

3. You have no job.

4. Your boyfriend has to be home by curfew.

5. You don't own your own car.

6. You are still in high school.

7. Your mother has said that she will help you take care of your baby if you were to accidentally get pregnant. ***Please note: Your baby is YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY. Making someone else care for your life choice is stupid, childish, and wrong.

8. You want to party, shop with friends, date whenever you want. None of this is possible when you have a baby.

9. You think of a baby in terms of what brands of clothing YOUR baby will wear, what cute hairstyles your child will have, and/or the adorable names your child will be subjected to. Go to http://bigbadbabynames.com/cgi-bin/yabb/YaBB.pl. You will probably see the name you picked being made fun of on this site. Don't get mad about this. Chances are, you deserve it.

10. You can't spell 'pregnant'.

Dating a Married Man is Dumb

As if you should need someone to tell you that! Because I like reality checks and I like lists, here is a list of reasons why dating a married man is dumb.

1. He already has a significant other. Meaning, he already has someone to share all of the joyous occasions of his life. He will not need you at Christmas time, his birthday, Valentine's Day, or even Memorial Day. He will be busy spending those occasions with his family.

2. If he wanted to leave his wife, he already would have. Don't bother listening to excuses. Can't leave because of the children? That's odd. Men with children CAN and DO leave their wives. Trust me. I'm a paralegal. I see it every day of my life. Can't leave because of the money situation? Again, if he's that unhappy with his wife, then money won't matter. Money is one of those funny things that can be obtained even after you lost what you had. Can't leave because he feels that he owes his wife something? Yup, he does. That alone should make you run in the opposite direction.

3. He and his wife really do have sex. I know many guys who have cheated on their spouses. I know many women who have dated married men. Every single one of the women claims that the men aren't having sex with their wives. Yet, I have listened to every single one of those cheaters brag about how good it is with their wives. Get a clue. He's sleeping in her bed. They are having sex. Otherwise, she would have figured out that he's cheating on her. Which leads me to --

4. He says she knows he cheats and doesn't care, but he lies. He lies to you AND to her. That's why she doesn't make a fuss. She loves him and wants to trust him, just like you do. She has more reason to do so. She has shared her life with him.

5. If he cheats on her, he most likely will cheat on you. After all, he's already demonstrated how he deals with difficulties in a relationship. Or maybe he just likes to have sex with many different women while each believes that she is the love of his life. Either way, he's a loser. You should be able to see that. It's pretty plain.

6. Your relationship is not "special". Men have been cheating since the beginning of time. Women have believed their lying butts since the beginning of time. You are not his soul mate. His mate is the person he is still married to, the one you are helping him deceive. You are just as much at fault as he is.

Daddy's Little Girl

I was 25, a nontraditional college student, if you will. A group of equally elderly students and I were having a between-class bull session. My best and only female friend, Steph, was talking about her children's deadbeat dads. I also dealt with a deadbeat dad, but poor Steph is burdened with two of those evil creatures. Her beautiful daughters are adequate compensation, I'm sure, just as my sons are, but things can get trying at times. It's a typical story. Boring, even.

In response to Steph's comments, I went on a 20 minute tirade about the uselessness of fathers. After all, why are they necessary? Mothers have more than enough love, compassion, understanding, and as well as the ability to support the child by herself if necessary. Who needs dads, anyway?

"You're just saying that because you don't have a dad," Steph replied cruelly but truthfully.

"Yeah, but I'd like to have your dad," I replied lasciviously and just as truthfully. Her dad is pretty dang hot.

Yes, I'm one of those girlies who grew up without a father. I'm a bastard, to cut straight to the point. My mother never told my father that I was his. They were both 17 when they conceived me at the junior-senior prom. He then moved away, married, produced a half sister for me, and died when I was 6 during a work-related accident. All without ever having known me.

I've met my sister. I refuse to say half sister because I don't believe in halves when it comes to family. She and I look amazingly alike except that she's missing a few teeth and, probably due to her having married at 15, she looks older than I do. Our kids even look alike. However, after our first meeting, we didn't communicate any more. It's my fault, I suppose. My questions were answered, so I didn't need anything to do with my paternal relations. Sometimes I don't like myself for being this way. Really.

Anywho, I was basically raised by my grandparents. My grandfather filled the role of father, but I always knew that he was not my Daddy. He was my grandfather whom I called Daddy because my uncle, who is only 7 years older than I, called him Daddy. I've never had the opportunity to be Daddy's girl. I've always felt adrift, knowing that I carried my mother's maiden name, which I didn't feel was rightly mine since she was adopted. I couldn't carry my father's name. Only when I married did I feel as if I were taking a name of my own.

So, my five-year-old twin boys and I married my husband, Mac. Their bio-father was nonexistent in their lives by then, my poor little boys. They accepted Mac grudgling at first, but now he is Daddy and loved accordingly. I must say, though, that I'm the one they are close to. It helps that I'm a tomboy who loves football, baseball, basketball, and pro wrestling. I can pitch, catch, throw the old pigskin around. All of this is the happy result of being raised with 3 uncles.

Two years after we married, I gave birth to a daughter. She's gorgeous and strange to me. I've never really bonded well with females. A psychologist would shout that I've searched for Daddy by surrounding myself with men. This is probably true. I love that girl, though. She's my last child (I'm tubally ligated now ;)) and by far an easy tempered baby.

I've seen something strange, though. Mac works 6 days/week. He leaves the house at 9:00 p.m. and comes home around 10:30 a.m. He stays up until about 12, then goes to sleep until 6 or so, which is when I call him to dinner, then goes back to sleep until 9. The boys see him for the dinner hour and that's about it. The girl gets an extra hour and a half in the morning. I've worried that she wouldn't know him or even love him.

She loves him to death. Really.

It's a phenomenon that I cannot explain. He can make her laugh when she's fevered and snotty. He can make her giggle when she's teething. He can get her to nap when no one else can.

I'm so glad, so very thankful, that she's Daddy's girl.

9/11 Memories and Musings

Just as most people of a previous generation remember where they were when they heard that Kennedy had been shot, 9/11 inspires most of us to share our memories of that fateful day. Personally, I was at work. One of our attorneys called me from court and said, "Somebody just flew a plane into the Trade Center." She called again when the second plane hit. Next came the Pentagon and the plane that crashed in the field. It was like being hit in the face with a brick repeatedly as, one by one, the tragedy kept unfolding with new developments as each hour passed. I remember going to the post office on my lunch break and feeling smothered with the silence. Everywhere I went that day, be it the gas station, the grocery store, what have you, there was nothing but silence and shock. I remember holding my fiance' tightly and feeling more fear than I had felt in a long time.

We were under attack. On our home soil.

As a nation, we've learned a lot from that day. We aren't as trusting, for one thing. Also, we've decided to wage war on any country that breathes wrong at us (um, as long as they have oil, that is). And now Hurricane Katrina has done tremendous damage to New Orleans. We have the same president now, and I can't say that I'm impressed with his less than lustrous track record.

It still makes me cry when I see footage of those towers going down. I hope it still makes you cry. We need to never forget. Never.

Craning Necks at the Car Crash

Should pictures of dead bodies be shown during the news coverage of Hurricane Katrina's aftermath? On the one hand, it is necessary to show exactly how much devastation was wrought. Dead bodies, like it or not, bring it home to people, so to speak. However, it seems very disrespectful to show the corpses of loved ones and friends, and it may even be just a tool for sensational journalism. What do you think?

I personally believe that no faces should be shown. In fact, body bags would probably do, if one feels it necessary to illustrate how terrible this catastrophe was. I can't imagine how it would be to be watching television and see the body of someone I know and love.