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Friday, March 25, 2005
In Which I Move By Increments From A Phallic Symbol To Terri Schiavo.
Topic: Miscellany
For various reasons, the State of Florida periodically thrusts itself upon my consciousness, if I may use that verb when speaking of a state shaped like a phallic symbol. The most chronic reasons for this are Dave Barry and hurricanes, which of course are the main exports of the State of Florida.

I also happen to have several old friends living there. They are from Delaware, Pennsylvania, Virginia, New Jersey, Maryland, and they mostly don't know each other. They are an accountant/martial arts expert who is rumored to now have a much younger lover (nice work, Melinda!), a mad scientist, a family law attorney who has converted to Eastern Orthodox Catholic, a computer geek, and a multilingual, multitalented attorney. Somehow they all ended up in Florida, and I communicate with each of them only in fits and fugues, but have been talking to a few of them lately. So that is another Florida thing.

Furthermore, as further proof that I am a hopeless nerd, I collect those 50 States quarters in a very casual but very earnest way. And I am missing Florida, which was released last year and which I still don't have, and exactly whom do you have to blow to get a Florida quarter around here? (I hope it's Ben.) In that respect, Florida is vexing me to my very limits. I am quite serious about my casual quarter collection.

My sole direct experience with Florida was getting stuck in the Miami airport for hours and hours and hours on the way back from the Caribbean, six years ago. Bienvenido a Miami! And fuck you very much. Of that, I will say only that the little sports bar saved my life, and those seats in the waiting area are ill suited for napping by my linebacker-sized husband, who was then my boyfriend, who was pretty cool to take me to the Caribbean, don't you think?

My mind has also been drawn to Florida because Terri Schiavo is there. Now, as a rule I strenuously avoid discussing issues and controversies online. There are a million reasons why, but to show you the tip of the iceberg, (1) I'm a Republican, (2) I'm also a hippie and (3) I loathe arguments. You see? Mum's the word. But this time I will make an exception and give you my conservative, loving, hard-nosed, compassionate, pragmatic take on the topic.

Terri isn't in there anymore. Am I a doctor, have I examined her, have I reviewed her medical records? None of the above, but my instinct is that she isn't home. There's something left, but it ain't her. So let's start with that idea.

Her husband makes me suspicious. Why does he want her dead so badly? As evidence that she would want to die, we have only his word, and he has a new girlfriend and clearly wants to get on with his life. That's okay, but he could seek a divorce. There's nothing to say he must be a widower. If there's any doubt about her wishes, and I think there is no doubt that there is doubt, why not hand her over to her parents -- who clearly want to preserve her life -- and get on with his life? He says he is motivated only by what he knows Terri would want. I don't believe him.

So let's say she did want to die. I can see that; I would probably want the same thing, if my mind really was gone and not coming back (as opposed to just having stepped out for a quick breather). Ben, you taking notes? The thing that really bothers me is the way she is dying. They are dehydrating and starving her to death, and all the carefully chosen words in the world do not change that.

Yes, you may say, but didn't you just say she's not really in there? True, but that doesn't mean that what part of her is there isn't suffering. Why is it that entities who can't verbalize physical suffering are deemed not to have it? Think of circumcised baby boys, and even of the insect you step on. Maybe they can't speak up and say Good gravy, that hurts like hell, and would you mind not doing that to me? But that doesn't mean they don't suffer.

But euthanasia is, of course, illegal. So it's a really, really fucked-up situation. And that's all I have to say, except Ben, honey, if it comes to that, go ahead and get a girlfriend and stuff, but if it comes to this type of thing, try to off me real quick on the sneak instead of starving me to death, okay? So bad for everyone involved. But they shouldn't starve her to death. Because I think she knows what is happening to her. And no one should have to die that way.

If I were really cynical and tactless, I would mention in passing how ironic it is that a woman who had an eating disorder would ultimately be starved to death. Did I just say that? I didn't just say that.

Posted by Gretchen at 9:03 AM PST
Post Comment | View Comments (2) | Permalink

Friday, March 25, 2005 - 4:51 PM PST

Name: Melissa (from PumpMoms)

Oh yes, you did say that. (The thing about the irony of the eating disorder and the starvation death, in case you weren't in my mind and didn't know exactly what I was referring to!) And to make you make you feel better about saying it, I said it before you did. With a teensy little chuckle in my voice when I said it.

The whole Terri Shivo thing is a mess. I don't trust her dirt bag husband, but after hearing the other day that part of her brain has turned to liquid (of course, I have to rely on the media for the accuracy of this report), I'm not sure that she's there. I think you're right though about the suffering. I do think she's suffering and shouldn't have to. Isn't there a nice lethal dose of morphine around when you really need it? I'm sure that her parents would surely choose a quick painless death over death by dehydration if they knew that there was no winning this fight.

And I have lived in Florida my whole life and have never before thought of it being phallic shaped. Why is that? I'll never look at my home state the same again.

Oh, and if it makes you feel any better, I have never laid eyes on a Florida quarter. Go figure.

Friday, April 8, 2005 - 7:00 AM PDT

Name: Mark J. LaBate

Miami Airport is a shithole, as is the City of Miami generally...As you know, I am an Immigration attorney, but I often think about joining the other side...

Did you hear that they had to recall the West Virginia commerative quarter? It seems that the duct tape they were using to hold the two dimes and the nickel together kept getting stuck in the vending machines...

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