Monday, September 05, 2005

To Blog or Not to Blog

Another day . . . another series of jaw dropping sights, "can you believe they said that" statements, subtle and surreal juxtapositions, computer keyboard moments, and any number of other things that once again I can't find the words for since my voice and my vocabulary seem to have left me at the George R. Brown Convention Center.

I can't put it all together yet . . . even wonder if just these fragments of thoughts and verbal visuals will offend the casual reader who doesn't know my heart and might wonder what kind of perverted so and so would blog about . . .
  • the fact I couldn't see one volunteer's nametag as I trained her to register evacuees on a new database system (which I, of course, had only learned 5 min prior!) but it didn't matter because her name was also tattooed on her lower (much lower) back and her low riding slacks insured I had a good view of it.
  • what people will tell you when you simply ask . . . I know I was "official" but I only had on a handwritten nametag and I was getting up close and personal with any number of folks today . . . and they didn't hesitate at all when you got to that all important Medical Condition question.
  • the confused look on my face when I was told to wash after every registrant intake . . . I soon learned it was because we were handling drivers licenses and there was a good bed that those licenses had been in the polluted waters
  • what an overwhelming feeling of gratitude I had when I saw Muslims, Jews, and Christians -- 10,000 today alone -- come together for training on how to effectively feed the evacuees at the convention center
  • how a low voice and saying whatever you're saying with authority automatically calms a weary soul
  • how a smile transcends cultures . . . I do believe I may now be engaged to a 70-year-old Vietnamese man I interviewed
  • how holding someone's hand for longer than a compulsory shake, a real hand holding, is one of the greatest gifts you can give a woman who is wearing borrowed, broken glasses and trying to insure that her aging mother who is an amputee gets the services she needs
  • and the fact that no matter how jaded you are, no matter how many ways you can see what would improve a system filled with glitches . . . you cry when you see a classy lady of the Quarter reflect on her loss, when you hear an 18 year old with an 8 day old baby indicate that she has no medical conditions that need attention . . .and then hear the intake volunteer move into Momma speak in seconds to insure that girl was cared for

This list could go on and on. Touching moving stories are being telecast and written in the major news distribution centers by the minute. But today, I was touched by the moments in time, not the tales of a lifetime.

And tomorrow we begin again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I was talking to a friend who reads your blog. She said, "Her blog is so good, I think I would pay money to read it." I felt that way today. Thanks for this post. Thanks for your geninue, authentic, observant, connected way of living that makes me want to be a better person.