There is a certain feeling that comes upon me just about
every day. You know that feeling, like when you’re chewing on a nice hunk of
juicy steak and you suddenly realize that last piece you swallowed should have
been chewed a few more times, as it becomes lodged in your throat? Or that
sense of sudden panic when the 300lb. washer you’re hauling down the stairs
works itself loose from the dolly and begins to slip to one side? Perhaps you
have attempted to retrieve some box from a shelf and just as it clears the lip
of the rack it was resting upon you comprehend that its weight is five times
that of your maximum lifting strength? Maybe you’ve had that realization that
you have swum out slightly further than you thought, which necessitates much
better physical conditioning than you possess? Almost every day folks, when I read
a story about a child being abused, beaten, murdered, or neglected, this
overwhelming feeling of utter hopelessness for our society rushes to my senses.
My only glimmer of optimism is that those of you that read these words do
whatever small deeds you can in your daily lives to end this insanity.
