"Including others" . . .you must watch!

Do you believe in angels? 

I do.

Take a look at this.

Reflect on it.

Get back to me!

Imus

The statement Don Imus made recently about the Rutgers women's basketball team was thoroughly racist and sexist. He was trying to be funny.

He wasn't.

For me, the debate about whether or not Imus is a racist misses a much more important and sobering point.

To be sure, Imus sounded racist and sexist. His words certainly were. Words come from inside where we really live.

But, beyond this, and even more disturbing is the fact that Imus played to his audience and to the marketplace. His "shock jock" genre responded to a precise, scientific understanding of what those who listened enjoyed hearing.

Imus had made such comments before. This time he picked the wrong group to attack. The community responded, thankfully. Advertisers read the writing on the wall. The networks fired him. Thank God for capitalism! When all else fails, money still talks. At least occasionally, it says the right thing.

Imus is not the only one guilty of such foolish, mean-spirited, demeaning, racist pollution. But, he is the one we're talking about today.

Surely, we can do better as a nation, as a people, can't we?

As the controversy was boiling last week, I was reading Kurt Vonnegut's last book, A Man Without a Country, his brief autobiography.

Vonnegut describes a conversation he had with a young man named Joe who approached him with a simple request:

"Please tell me it will all be okay."

"Welcome to Earth, young man," I said. "It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, Joe, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of: #$%&^* it, Joe, you've got to be kind!" (page 107)

Maybe Imus understood my generation and its inherent, genetic racism and sexism. Maybe that's what his marketing folks knew and so counseled him to be what he was. Maybe his entire mission was to market to the low road running through our souls.

But, maybe, just maybe, we can face ourselves and simply decide to go a different way.

Maybe the younger generation--people the age of my daughters and younger--will show us the power and beauty of simple human kindness. I don't know.

But, I do know that we can do better.

A cup of coffee. . .

She was standing, better, lingering in a focused hover over the coffee bar in the hotel where I spent two nights in Seattle recently.

It took me a moment before I realized that she was homeless.

The grime of the street worked out of her pores.

I noted abrasions on her hands.

Fatigue lined her face.

Her bright red lipstick dominated her face, outlining her easy, but tired smile.

She maintained a dignified, but rumpled look.

She was extremely deliberate in preparing her morning drink. She took her time, preparing the coffee in the positive environment where she obviously felt comfortable and welcome.

“Why is it that the older you get the faster time seems to fly by?” she asked no one in particular.

I answered, “I don’t know, but it is true. Maybe we just become more aware with age!”

“Weird, huh?” she concluded.

She finished her fixing her coffee, as I began to prepare mine.

She picked up her bag, waved to all present in the lobby and said, “I hope you all have a grand day!” And she was gone into her day.

The hotel staff at the registration desk seemed neither to notice nor to mind that she had invaded the hotel’s private and commercial space to pick up a cup of coffee.

For some reason I can’t get this experience out of my mind.

I realize it is just one incident. It is anecdotal from start to finish, no serious or exhaustive research here.

But, I will always believe that what I observed in that hotel lobby provides commentary on the “soul” of the city we refer to as Seattle.

I can’t help but wonder what this woman’s experience would be in a downtown hotel here in Dallas.

I’m sorry to say, I don’t think she would fare as well in our proud city of big churches, faithful people and dynamic businesses.

As big as we are here, at times I get the feeling we just don't have enough space for this sort of ordinary kindness and mutual respect.