Hand turkeys

Since I have an opinion about almost everything, you can imagine my feelings toward the violence crap in MO. But I'm also angry about others who feel the need to publicly state their opinion. Here's why:

"I'm not racist by any means, but..."
"I accept people of all colors, and..."
"If this was black on white, it would be different because..."

Best way to rid of racism? Stop talking about it.
The country is creating a monster and being afraid of it at the same time. Why do we need to clarify that "I'm not racist, but..." Are you afraid people think you are racist? Guilty conscience? I don't know. Why state that? Why give people the ammo to use that against you, because you know that some ass is going to spark a debate on facebook for the hell of it, manipulate your comments, and then throw "But I thought you said you weren't racist?!"All races, religions, and nationalities are guilty of creating this. All social groups contribute as well. "I'm not judging, but [Catholics/Jews/Muslims/Buddhists] would be better people if they just became like us!" Yes, religion. Here we go. We are here to execute the plan God has created for us. Minimally, I feel that the plans can be all broken down to "love one another." If I am loving my neighbor, I am not worried about being judged as a racist. If I'm loving my coworker, I'm not being judged because he is a recovering addict. If I'm loving the unlovable, I'm not judged as an attention seeker. (Similarly, if I'm not breaking the law, I am not going to jail...). We love the best of the best and the worst of the worst. Well, we should. Sure, it changes things when the best of the best are making six figure salaries, but it shouldn't.

Wanna talk about the sportsman's complex being erected against the wishes of the community? Best of the best utilizing their power to out voice (not out vote) the worst of the worst and everyone in between. $5 million. THIS is what that could have looked like for Effingham...yes Effingham:

340,000 meals for a family of four
10,000 months worth of rent
167,000 weeks worth of fuel costs
143,000 monthly unlimited bus passes
5,618,000 boxes of mac n cheese
200,000 cans of baby formula
250,000 1-hr drug and alcohol counseling sessions
167,000 nights in a safe motel for battered women and kids
100,000 Thanksgiving dinners
50,000 kids who get to have a Christmas
AND funding to offset the cost for pro bono services at HHS.

There it is, guys. The best way I can describe my problem with the world.

If only

The flashbacks went away for a little while. I was probably distracted by a lot of things. Slowly, they're creeping back in. The biggest one has been of Steven standing across the room from me in the same outfit he was buried in, and his wedding ring is so visible. I see him, but my eyes are on that ring. I still have thoughts that he might just come out of hiding to see me for just a few minutes to hug me and tell me he loves me and is OK. I'm waiting for his truck to pull in and him run inside the house. I imagine him looking aged and worn and exhausted from running and keeping it all a secret. I imagine that me getting to see him is a secret. It wouldn't matter that anyone else knew he was still here. Just me. I've had too many dreams that he returns in this very scenario, and he can only stay long enough to hug me, give me a kiss, and tell me that he's OK, and no one else can know he was here because he'd never be able to come back if other people knew he was alive. This year's holidays are going to be far worse than the last.