Come, All Ye Voters

Earlier this week, one of my good friends called me. I have been driving around with a huge bag of rice in my car all darn week so that I can give it to this guy, so that he can give it to Haiti (as part of his relief efforts). Hence, when he called, I figured he must be calling to schedule a meetup to get the rice. "Want to volunteer with me this Saturday? We need attorneys."

"Where would we be volunteering?"

"I'm not sure."

"What time?"

"I'll need to get those details."

"What will we be doing?"

"I don't know exactly. Something about felons voting."

"What?! Ok, well call me back when you know more and I'll see you on Saturday." I have a small collection of friends that if they ever needed me, I would drop almost anything to help them if I could. He happens to be one of them. For a period of time in law school, there were four of us who were completely inseparable and this still bleeds into our daily lives today. Granted, most of us now live at least three hours apart, but we are still there for each other as much as we can be. So, when one of these friends asked me if I would help him by volunteering some of my time, there really was only one possible answer.

Turns out I will be working with the ACLU this weekend to help convicted felons register to vote - seeing if their records can be suppressed or expunged and, as a result, become qualified to vote under the laws of the state of Florida. In some ways, it makes me a little nervous to be volunteering with convicted felons. However, at least with such situations, you know who to watch out for. In other areas of the law, you are never quite sure. I know one woman who spent years practicing real estate law in Florida, with an emphasis in home owners association regulation. She said she eventually started doing criminal defense because it felt much safer and she did not have to worry about as many stray bullets.

Really?

I had to read her words at least two times for them to really gain any recognition in my head. She was not telling me that my friend was sick or that he needed an operation or that he had been severely injured. No, her words were quite clear, explaining to me that my friend, her lover, had "passed away in a very serious and tragic accident". But she had to be kidding. None of my friends have just up and died, at least none my own age. Sure, there were a couple of people in high school, but I knew them mostly in passing. This was not just someone I knew tangentially. This was someone I kept up with on a fairly regular basis, and she was telling me that I would not be doing that anymore.

It was too much to take in on a Tuesday morning. Who the hell goes on vacation to the Grand Canyon and dies? I guess, my friend does (did). My brain is still getting used to the fact that my friend and I will never communicate again. It does not quite seem real that he and I will not just strike up casual conversations. That he won't be there to tell me about his misadventures and tell me about his great accomplishments. He made mead in his spare time. I know that may sound dumb, but he was really good at it. He won gold medals in national competitions. He really loved it. I love it when people love what they do. I think that is such a great thing.

He had lost so much weight in the last few years, almost a whole person. He was so proud of himself. I was really proud of him. He had found a woman that he loved and who loved him back. Things were going pretty well for the guy, and then that was it. The "Game Over" logo had flashed across the screen and he had no more quarters left in his pocket to continue.

Whenever I really think about it, which I try very hard not to do, I start thinking of how suddenly life can slip just beyond our grasp. Like a small wisp to which we struggle in vain to cling. I think, here was a man working so hard and getting his life together and doing such great stuff and now it is over. He was not at the end of his days. There was no indication that he was going to just stop breathing on the first Thursday of the month. It was so sudden, and it makes me sad to think of how hard he worked and how he likely planned in his mind for his future and now it is all over. I still cannot quite get my head around it.

My Space

I was convinced, somewhere along the line, to establish a My Space page. (I actually wound up with two of them, although I cannot figure out how and am doing my best to remove one of them, but it does not seem to be linked to any email account that I actually use. So I'm not sure where it came from, nor how to delete it.) I didn't really enjoy the idea of establishing a presence on My Space, as I really think the pages are stupid and annoying. They can get so bogged down with content and everyone has some sort of song that automatically starts when the page loads - tell me that isn't bloody annoying.

I really feel that My Space pages can often be referred to as My Virtual Clutter Zone. The organization and layout of the content is, to me, absolutely annoying and pointless. If I really wanted all of that crap, I could add it to my blog. After all, to me, I feel the blog is probably the most important aspect of those pages (unless I'm looking for gorgeous red heads), and most people I have seen on there do not update theirs very frequently, if at all. Not to mention, the blog is not really featured very prominently and the posts look bizarre there. It reminds me of blogging for junior high. (Not that my blog is terribly impressive or updated frequently enough. It does, however, seem to have a bit more of a sophisticated appearance.)

I am, however, terribly happy that I created the page. Not just so that I could gawk at the lovely ladies or do something trendy, but also because it allowed me to find two of my friends that I have known since I was about six, but who I lost touch with over the last three or four years. I also located another friend from high school. I'm so excited. I haven't actually been able to communicate with any of them yet, as they seem to check their pages about as frequently as I check my snail mail box. However, I figure that will all come in time and soon I will be catching up and learning about their new and exciting lives.

Every now and again, the Internet spits out a gem.

Do You Understand

Recently, I was reviewing Presidential Tax Returns and I realized some people make an incomprehensible amount of money. For example, Dick Cheney, recently made $7,000,000.00 in one year. I don't even know if I'll make that much in my lifetime and he made that in just one year. I cannot even begin to comprehend what it must be like to make that much money. What was even more astounding was that even in the lean years he made one or two million. I tried to picture what my life would be like if I made that much money on an annual basis and I still can't get a clear picture. It's like trying to watch porn on cable without paying for it.

I suppose things can often be that way. It's hard to really understand what someone else experiences. I can't possibly understand what it's like to be Mike D., Wynton Marsalis, our president, Salma Hayek, Heidi Klum ... where was I? However, I also can't imagine what it would be like to be homeless for an extended period of time, not able to eat when I was hungry, or not able to wash my hands when they were dirty. I can't imagine not having running water. However, it's not just socioeconomic and class differences that puzzle me. I can't imagine killing anyone over my religious beliefs. It absolutely exceeds my grasp. The lifestyles of these people are probably, almost certainly, different from mine.

One does not, however, need to go to such extremes to find people to which they cannot relate. I recently heard a story about New York adopting the No Child Left Behind framework that we have adopted in Florida. Intellectuals have shown that the system doesn't work; that it's an utter failure cooked up by the politicians to show that progress is being made. Teachers have ridiculed it and talked about so much of teaching now is teaching students how to take a standardized test. We all know such things are faulty. You often will have a higher chance of success predicting the failure and success of students with the flip of a coin than with a standardized test. However, we use them. We use them because it makes tangible out of what is completely intangible - a learning and socialization process.

People sometimes think that they can relate. They are led to believe that they are involved. Most people think the death tax will affect them, but it won't. I have white friends that grew up with only other white people and they think they understand what's it's like to not be white, but they probably don't. I think it makes us feel better, though, to feel like we can relate and that we understand our world. That we understand what it's like to be the doctor, the attorney, the waitress, the grocery store bagger, the teacher ... but how illusory is this belief. How well do two people ever really know each other?

Last night, I received a phone call from one that I know well, and as the conversation unfolded aspects were revealed to show the complexities that make up the web of her life. I don't know if I fully understand her life, but I love the opportunity to see it a little more clearly with each passing day.