Archive | September, 2012

What Would You Do?

18 Sep

https://i0.wp.com/thirty86.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/aids_cant_Cured.jpg I just re-read the tragic tale of Cicely Bolden, the 28-year-old Dallas mother stabbed to death by a lover after revealing she was HIV-positive. Her 7-year-old and 8-year-old children found her murdered when they came home from school. The story and the outpour of comments defending Bolden’s murderer have made me remember a movie screening I attended a year ago. The film begged the same question: what would you do if the person you loved or at the least made love with was HIV-positive. Continue reading

Advertisements

911

12 Sep

In the final moments of the 11th anniversary of 9/11, I find myself having a hard time accepting that so much time has passed since the attacks. I was an 8th grader heading to the counselor’s office on some trivial task when I stared in shock and confusion at the smoke billowing from the first World Trade tower on the TV screen. Today, I am a young professional, two years removed from college. But with each passing year, the since of dread, gloom and tribute associated with the date remains.

Last year, I had the opportunity to interview DeWane Harris, a man who was working in New York nearby when the planes fell. Today, I find myself rereading his words and thinking about the lasting damage on the nation’s psyche, an effect that was somewhat and somehow balmed by the slaying of Osama Bin Laden. May we never forget. Continue reading

Working Out Never Felt So Good

5 Sep

Bach blared from my car’s windows as I exited the freeway. Feet tapping the brakes, I slowed at the stoplight. Whispers from a neighboring vehicle’s  radio rode the breeze.

“Starships are made to fllyyyyyy,” sang the wind.

Moments later my classical music was supplanted by the beats and rhythm of Nicki, as I frantically began tuning the radio to my neighbor’s station.

 I waited until his jeep passed by when the light turned green to blast the song, singing along excitedly with my fists in the air.

I couldn’t help myself. Continue reading