Soapbox

I was heading to pick up my daughter at the high school this afternoon, sitting in my red minivan with the "What was God before He became an American?" bumper sticker. A black SUV pulled up beside me in the left turn lane. It’s a beautiful day today and my windows were down, as were his. The young man behind the wheel was tapping his fingers on the dash and bobbing his head along with his music.

"Come together….right now…" he sang.

I tuned my head and caught his eye, and together we sang,

"Over me!"

He laughed in delight.
"Turn it up, baby!" I called and he turned the knob. The 20-something black kid with corn-rows and the middle-aged white woman in the mini-van had time for about three shared head bobs and a grin before the light changed and we went out respective ways.

Ah, the Beatles: 40 years of helping people come together.

Today is the 18th of April. In addition to being Paul Revere Day, it is my daughter’s half-birthday. This means that 6 exactly months from today, my baby will be an adult.

Gulp.

I mentioned this to her this afternoon as she was driving herself home from school, and she rolled her eyes like I was telling her the sky is blue. Apparently this is something she is keeping a close eye on.

    "Yeah, I was making a list of all the things I can legally do, once I’m 18" she said.
    "Like…?"
    "I can vote. I can join the military, I can get married- I was going to say I can have sex whenever I want to, but I think in Ohio the age of consent is 16, which is just dumb if you ask me… "

Yeah, me too. And anyway kid- you can never have sex whenever you want to. Life doesn’t work that way.

    "You can sign documents and consent to surgery, run for office, at least most local ones, and get a loan." I offered.
    "I don’t have to obey juvenile curfews, and I can buy cigarettes, and I can get a tattoo or something weird pierced, if I want" she commented, changing lanes.
    "Oh, and don’t forget that when you’re 18 your parents can kick you out of the house and make you support yourself." I added cheerfully . "Just in case you’re considering the tattoo thing."

Wow. 18. What an auspicious occasion that will be. Life changes when you turn 18, right? I think back on the big, important changes in my life after I turned 18… ummm, well…Ok,  life didn’t really change much at all. I finished high school, which was nice, and got to move out of the house into a dorm for a year. That made a bit of a difference in how much of an adult I perceived myself to be. Of course the next year I was back home again, so it was short-lived independence. Back then 18 year olds could buy "low beer", but I hated beer, so I never did.

Truth be told, 18 sounded like a big deal, but it turned out not to really feel like one. (Not nearly as big a deal as I think 50 is going to be!) There was still so much growing up left to do; at least for me there was. I think the biggest "You have arrived" moment for me was getting my first book of checks, and then my credit card. A credit card meant you were definitely an adult!  We pay for it, but technically, Katie has had a credit card for a year and a half, and while she’s responsible about it, boy does she know how to use it! I think that in many ways, she is more grown up now than I was at 19 or 20.

And here I am on a gorgeous spring day when my youngest child, my little Katie Belle is 6 months from legal adulthood.
Which makes me 6 months from…. ?
Uh oh. Best not to go there.

I’ve been doing some thinking lately about parents and children. I hear stories of people who have been rejected by their parents- because they are gay, or have the wrong politics, or just don’t follow their parents into the family business. I find this utterly unfathomable- both as a parent who cannot conceive of ever losing touch with, let alone rejecting my child,- and also as a child who knows for certain that my own parents’ love for me is unwavering and unconditional.
So yesterday I wrote this song.

Hey there Mom and Dad, I wonder how you are today,
And I wonder if you wonder how I ever got so far away?
How long has it been since you called to say hello?
How many Christmases and birthdays did I celebrate alone?
When you gather all your loved ones at the table, do you set a place for me?
 Or is there no room for this black sheep on your happy family tree.

Once I was your precious child and I followed you everywhere.
Once you held me in your arms and laughed as you tossed me in the air.
Well I’m a thousand miles away tonight, singing you this song
And I’m trying to remember just when went wrong.
Was it when I grew my hair too long, or was it when I walked away
From the path you’d chosen for me? Was that the fateful day?

But I don’t regret the things I have done
Though it means I never can return as your prodigal son
Still my heart can’t stop hoping that your heart will find a way
To love me as I am…. some day…

I always do unto others as I’d have done to me
And I try to live my life with courage, faith and honesty
And if that’s not enough to earn me your respect
Well I’ve done nothing wrong- there’s nothing to correct
But clearly, you’ve decided to wash your hands of me
For the awful sin of being who I was born to be.

Bridge: I’m sorry I didn’t turn out like you wanted me to
That I’m not rich enough, or famous, or normal, like you- I’m just me…

But I don’t regret the person I’ve become
Though it means I never can return as your prodigal son
Still my heart can’t stop hoping that your heart will find a way
To love me as I am…. some day…

We just see the world though different eyes: it’s clear we never will agree
But you know, I never have looked down on you for not being more like me.
I can change my address for you, or how I comb my hair,
Drive a different car or change the clothes I wear
But I can’t change the things deep inside me that make me who I am
And I believe I too, am part of God’s plan.

I know my life hasn’t gone the way you thought it should
And you never will accept me the way I hoped you would.
Still, my heart can’t stop hoping that your heart will find a way
To love me as I am…

No, I don’t regret the things I have done
Though it means I never will return as your prodigal son
Still my heart can’t stop hoping that your heart will find a way
To love me as I am…. some day…
Someday…

I confess myself still in a bit of a daze, reeling from the implications of the 2003 Justice Department memo finally released. Reading about it is the mother of all "I want my country back" moments. It is hard to know where to begin, as horror is piled upon outrage.

International laws and treaties against torture don’t apply , Justice Department attorney John Yoo assured the eager president, because even if they did, who and what army would come after us to enforce it? No one. Don’t worry George- it’s Ok to hit the little kids for their lunch money, because we’re the biggest bully on the playground and no one is going to stop us.

Abuse isn’t torture if it isn’t done in malice, Yoo said. So as long as the torturers claim that they didn’t want to waterboard their innocent prisoners, but they felt they had to in order to "defend the U.S." then it is OK. I just heard a chilling clip of John Yoo debating with a constitutional scholar who argued him that by Yoo’s own reasoning, it is not illegal to crush a child’s testicles to get his father to talk.
"Well, I think it all depends on why we do that" Yoo replied.
Think about that a moment.
It all depends on why you crush a child’s testicles…

I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. This is even worse than saying that the ends justify the means: Yoo argues that the intention justify the means. And clearly the defense secretary and the President of the United States took that assertion and ran with it. All the way to Abu Ghraib, I would guess.

Yoo went on to assert that in time of war, the will of the president (or the "perogative of the Sovereign" as Yoo termed it) trumps everything else– even the constitution. Even the will of the American people. Which makes that "sovereign" term quite apt, doesn’t it? Though maybe "dictator" would be even more appropriate.

And the most disgusting assertion, and one that I think John McCain should be asked to address, is the claim that the 8th amendment against cruel and unusual punishment doesn’t apply to us since 9/11 because TORTURE ISN’T PUNISHMENT.

In a sick, twisted way, I can see some truth in this. We were not torturing our prisoners to punish them, because in order for that to be true, they would have to have done something to be punished for. And since we now know that some of the people the United States tortured weren’t guilty of anything… apparently, it’s all good.
Except for the children whose testicles get crushed. Not so good for them.

Jesus wept.