How May I Offend You Today?

I woke up to the television report of Juan Williams’ firing by NPR after voicing an opinion on FOX’s “The O’Rielly Factor.”  It is my understanding that this NPR news correspondent turned senior news analyst makes regular appearances on FOX news, which in spite of its “Fair and Balanced” tagline, is known for its general right-wing, conservative political stance. NPR, on the other hand, is a non-profit, member-based media organization, operating on mostly (98%) private donations or non-government sources, and it has a left-leaning, liberal reputation. That Williams maintains objectivity for one organization and voices opinions on another does shine a spotlight on his credibility. And according to the NPR Ombudsman, Alicia Shepard, this was not an isolated incident. Williams was already walking a fine line.

First let me say, I don’t believe Williams’ comment about an underlying fear of Muslims on airplanes dressed in religious garb on its own warranted firing. It was an honest admission and may have voiced a fear shared by many Americans since 9/11; however, I do believe the comment was ill-advised, and it pandered to the O’Reilly audience. In other words, it wasn’t news reporting or analysis, and it really wasn’t even opinion. It was a personal admission that supposedly violated NPR’s code of ethics as it illustrated and may have even promoted a prejudicial stereotype.

“News analysts may not take personal public positions on controversial issues,” said NPR CEO, Vivian Schiller.

If this is truly the case, how and why did NPR tolerate Juan William’s appearances on FOX news in the first place? And why wasn’t he fired for previous statements he’s made publicly? Further, there are other NPR correspondents who voice opinions on other networks. Are they the next to be fired?

It’s amazing to me that there’s anyone left out there with the balls to voice an opinion without being slapped with a politically incorrect label.

My blog is benign politically, for the most part, and that’s because as an independent voter, I abhor partisan politics. That doesn’t mean that I completely refrain from voicing political opinions and that some of my non-political Internet postings have not been offensive to some.

For example, recently I posted a photo of a white male streaker, which I happened to snap during the half time show of the local high school’s homecoming game. I didn’t have my telephoto lens and the runner was clear across the field. So, while I did manage to get a shot of him in frozen motion, in the 5-1/2” x 3-1/2” snapshot, his number-4 shaped figure measured ¾” x ¼” and the only clear anatomical details visible were his bent elbows and his left knee. It’s impossible to make out a nose or whether or not he was wearing a cap—and there was certainly no evidence of genitalia or even butt-crack. Regardless, I received a message indicating that there was concern among the high school faculty that I had posted “naked photos of a minor” on the Internet and it made them uncomfortable. The person who wrote to me didn’t want me to get in trouble, so I said, “thanks for the heads-up” and removed the photo.

Hey, I didn’t know it was a “minor!”

I heard the streaker was caught and there was talk about charging him with far more than an “indecent exposure” rap. It was alleged he’d have to register as a sex offender for his homecoming prank. I don’t know whether or not this is true because frankly, it’s an outrageous a charge and really hard for me to believe. But if it is true, my opinion is that it’s a major injustice to this minor and a gross misinterpretation of the law.

Five minutes after the streaker photo note, I received a comment on another homecoming photo I’d posted, which was of a white girl dressed in costume as a black woman. The comment said this costume was “racially insensitive” and also asked why they didn’t have a black girl play this role. Gotta say, I didn’t see that one coming. So, lest I be responsible for anyone else being offended, I took down that photo too.

I thought back to 20-some years ago when I dressed up as Oprah for Halloween (and Mike was Phil Donohue). I painted my freckly pink skin chocolate brown, wore a dark-haired wig and big earrings. And since Oprah was in one of her heavy phases at the time, I added a pillow to my middle. It was a long time ago and probably before the height of politically correct watchdoggedness, but I don’t remember anyone saying my costume was racially insensitive. I do remember an African-American friend at the party told me I “passed for a sister in every way—except for the blue eyes, baby!”

We’re supposed to go to a Halloween party tomorrow night and I’m sitting here staring at my tall black witch hat. I wonder if wearing it tomorrow might offend supporters of Christine O’Donnell, the republican senate candidate from Delaware who infamously proclaimed in a recent television commercial, “I am not a witch. I’m YOU.”

Hmmmm, I can only imagine how many people were offended by THAT statement—especially in light of her exposed resume misrepresentations and the accusation of her using campaign funds for personal expenses.

I can honestly say it is not my intention to offend anyone by what I write or what pictures I post; however, if you do find me offensive, than all I can suggest is that you get over it and move on. With my fiftieth birthday looming over me like a waning moon and the life lessons I’ve just experienced, I really don’t give a damn.

Listening for the Whispers

Karen was here today. She doesn’t like to be called “neighbor” so I’ll call her my friend who lives nearby. Karen has such big eyes, you can get lost in them. She’s soft-spoken and wise, polite and at the same time, not afraid to let her freak flag fly. Today, however, she was as pulled together as Audrey Hepburn. And during her visit, she rearranged my unruly hair three times. From hippie to Hepburn, I’ve sported a classy French twist all day.

We talked for hours. We talked about jewelry—often a topic under my roof where we’re surrounded by gemstones, sparkling crystals and mixed metals. We talked about our kids. What mothers don’t talk about their kids? We talked about the school, the teachers, the administrators. We talked about the economy and the flailing stock market with which both our husbands are involved. We brought up the neighbors—current and former—and on all subjects we had both negative and positive things to share.

Was it gossip? Nah. Everything out of my friend’s mouth is uttered with grace.

Karen and I talk on the phone weekly but today it was nice to sit across the table from her and share steamed-milk lattes. I’ve been thinking lately about how much I could really benefit from a girl’s night out but I found a girl’s day in on this warm Sonoran day was more stimulating than the latte. Thanks be to Karen.

In addition to the topics noted above, my conversations with Karen often turn toward faith. Karen is a minister with the Methodist church, but more than that, she’s a minister of motherhood, research, logic, love and good will. She NEVER preaches or sermonizes. On the contrary, she’s best at sharing and reflecting.

She’s a gifted listener. And when I shut up and listened to her today, she said something I thought about for the rest of the day. On the topic of prayer and how we define it, she said one method of praying for her is to remain quiet and “listen for God’s whisper.”


Hours after I waved goodbye to Karen, I heard those whispers. It may have been from God, but I think more likely it was from my husband’s dead Aunt Ellen, a woman I loved.

Ellen took pride in being the “oldest living member of the Cozzens family.” She was kind to me from the minute Mike brought me home. I used to seek her out for many reasons, but what I loved most was our shared interest in books (she was a librarian) and crossword puzzles, and her love for the man who would become my husband.

Mike once thought of himself as the black sheep of the family. It wasn’t because he was a bad kid—on the contrary. It’s just that his siblings have had enormous achievements in the academic, professional and business worlds. Is it brain surgery? As a matter of fact, it is. One of his brothers is a brain surgeon, and whom doesn’t that impress?

Well, Ellen wasn’t overly impressed. Of course she was proud of her nephew and recognized his talents and accomplishments; however, when pointing out Mike’s talents and accomplishments (particularly when he felt lowly compared to his sibs), Aunt Ellen likened being a brain surgeon to being a plumber. “It’s a trade,” she said. For whatever reason, that made Mike feel better about himself.

These days with the stock market bringing consistently bad news and our portfolio shot to shit, many of my husband’s talents and accomplishments have turned to on-paper losses. We still have the business we built together and he’s working very hard with his cottage industry disc golf sales to pay the mortgage, but I know he’s fearful about keeping this lifestyle together for our family.

Alone in my car, I worried too, and I wished someone like Aunt Ellen were around to remind us of all the positives. And this is when I heard the whisper.


Because my golf disc salesman was so busy organizing his new shipment for a pro tournament vending opportunity tomorrow, I handled both ends of the afternoon kid shuffling. While on my way to hip hop pickup, I listened to a story on NPR about a 54 year-old unemployed worker in Rhode Island’s jewelry industry named Harold Shippy. After losing his job, a job for which he only needed a high school diploma, he’s hunting for a new job in a state competing with Michigan for the highest jobless rate in the country.

Shippy said if he could do it all over again, he would have become a brain surgeon; however, at his age and with his lack of higher education and a family to support, “he says he’ll probably become a plumber.”

When I heard this I spoke the name “Ellen” right out loud and looked up at the beautiful mountains surrounding our home. Then I thought of my friend Karen and I knew everything was going to be okay.

Listening to the whispers brought me out of my worry and back to the most important thing. And that’s love. As long as you have love in your life, it’s the biggest talent and accomplishment you need to get you through the tough times.