This week in Citizen of the Month and  also by Miss Tanya, we've read about the Target pharmacist in Missouri who refused to fill a prescription for emergency contraception based on his own religious beliefs.

Target has made it clear that this action does not represent institutional policy.  That a pharmacist with these beliefs must send the customer to another pharmacy "in a timely manner."  Timely.   

This story is not surprising.  There are loads of self-righteous people all over this country.  And they don't just work at Target.  

It's fine with me if a pharmacist, anywhere, does not wish to use emergency contraception.  It's fine if an Orthodox Jew does not wish to eat a bacon double cheeseburger.  It's fine if George Bush does not wish for his daughters or his wife to have an abortion.  

Religion is an intensely private phenomenon.  When a person holds a strong belief, he holds it.  He does not throw it or launch it.  He may be inspired to teach it and hope that others want to hold it as well.  But our passing judgment on others based upon our own beliefs goes against the teachings of any religion I can think of.

And having institutional policy which passes judgement on people who make moral choices outside of a particular faith is just as reprehensible.  But it happens.  A business owner has every right to run his or her business in the way that he or she wishes.  If Bill of "Bill's Video" thinks that certain movies are not acceptable, he will not have them for rental.
 
If we are lucky enough to live in a place where there is more than one business of that type, we are free to take our business elsewhere.  But there are many places in this country where there are no such choices.  There is ONE pharmacy.  There is ONE bookstore.  There is ONE movie theater.  Increasingly, large companies are taking over small towns.  No longer are there boutique, locally-owned stores for clothing, appliances, grocery.  There is TARGET or WAL-MART.  One stop shopping.  What this also means is that ONE company controls all of the goods sold in some areas.

And there are plenty of people who were raised in these places who believe that this is the only way to live.  They think that there is a part in the movie Eyes Wide Shut where the screen goes black for about a minute.  They think there is no such book as Farenheit 451.  Some women think there are no options when they have unwanted pregnancy. 

And that is here in this country.  Right under our noses.  We, who pride ourselves on free speech and freedom of expression.  We who have inconceivable wealth and natural resources.  We wage war on other nations when we think they are too closed-minded.   

Does this improve our society?  Is conformity better than individuality?  How would it feel to enter a store and to see only one brand of any given thing?  Or to go to the store and never find the one thing that you want, since they don't carry it? And neither do any of the other stores in the area since they are all owned by the same corporation. 

This is happening.  It's going on right now.  So each time you hear about a Barnes and Noble merger with a smaller bookseller, think about the books that will no longer be available. There is only so much space in a store.  Or when the Beatrice food giant acquires another smaller company.  Fewer choices there.

What can we do?  I have no idea.  Any thoughts? 

"Pleased to meet you.  Hope you guess my name.  Ah, what's puzzling you is the nature of my game." - Rolling Stones

I am enjoying dinner last week with some friends at Blue Ribbon Sushi.  It is a terrific group, composed of physicians from across the country, some of whom were raised in other nations.  During our meal, Greg poses the question:

"Who is the most recognizable athlete in the world today?"

Now, Greg is a golf fanatic.  In answer to his own question, he offers Tiger Woods and Vijay Singh as options.   Immediately, Thomas suggests David Beckham, which is quickly seconded by me and two others.  Lance Armstrong's name is thrown on the table, along with that of Michael Jordan and Derek Jeter.   

As conversation progresses, other athletes are named.  Muhammad Ali, who was considered the world's most recognizable athlete during his reign as Heavyweight Champion, is added.  Mike Tyson tags along in that category, and is quickly dismissed.  The sport of tennis is suggested by Eric, but we are unable to agree on the eponymous tennis celebrity.  Jimmy Connors?  John McEnroe?  Stefi Graf?  Agassi?

Our "conversation" evolves into a full-contact argument.  Greg holds fast to his golfer celebs;  states that Singh would oust Beckham on the worldwide scale.   Thomas counters by saying that if Singh showed up in his hotel room to make up his bed, he would have no idea who he is.  I admit I would likely do the same.

We never agree on one person.  But I pose the question later to my family, and then to a few other friends.  My brother, his girlfriend and my sister vote emphatically for Michael Jordan.  "Not because of basketball, but because of product endorsements."  Steve and Stephen place Beckham and Woods in a tie.  Everyone tips a hat to Muhammad Ali.  Graf is the only female mentioned.

I hold deep respect for professional athletes.  The discipline and effort needed to augment raw talent to their level astounds me.  And when these stars continue to work hard despite tremendous incomes and endorsment contracts, they ought to be held up as examples.  And athletes compete outright.  When they win, they increase their celebrity.  There is some way to judge who are the "greats" and the "not-so-greats."

But an offshoot of this debate is another question of celebrity. 

"Who is the most recognizable person in the world?"

Tough one.  One person blurted out the name of the King of Pop, his majesty Michael Jackson.  But what about Zhang Ziyi of China?  The ultra-famous stars of Bollywood?  Sheer population in those areas catapults those folks to near the top. 

What I draw from these discussions is that our exposure to celebrity in all areas is overwhelming.  How are we to process all of the images we see?  

Not so long ago, within my lifetime and within the reach of my adult memory, appearance on TV or in a movie was a great honor.  With the expansion of cable television, the internet and media in general, the average person is given the chance be seen in these places.  No longer is attention reserved for those who move up through the ranks of entertainment, or politics.  We as an audience are subjected to thousands of new faces per year.  How are we to know which are the keepers anymore?

Does the flooding of our senses dampen the impact of true celebrity?  Gone are our old cues.  So how do we know who deserves our attention anymore?  What yardsticks do we have in this arena?  Actors don't win or lose.  Politicians may lose even after they have won.  Alternatively, they may gain celebrity in spite of having lost.

In the end... who decides?  Movies?  Television?  Nike?  Or us. 

"I watched with glee while your kings and queens

 fought for ten decades for the gods they made.
I shouted out, "Who killed the Kennedys?"

When after all
It was you and me."

"Everything I ever needed to know, I learned in Kindergarten" - Robert Fulghum

My friend Tim commented on a recent post and asked about my heroes.  I planned to write about sports figures, artists and my mentors in the medical field.   I envisioned a post about what makes a professional. 

But that post will come later.

I am compelled to write about one person in particular.

It's a little girl who does not go to kindergarten.  She's a pretty girl who lives in Brooklyn, in Fort Greene.   She is Latina, and speaks Spanish with a funny little accent.  She likes her Barbie doll but is otherwise something of a tomboy.

She cannot go to kindergarten because everyone is trying to find her brother.  

You see, this little girl has a father who is a serial rapist.  He has at least four children, boys except for her, who are products of rapes of at least three different women.  The man also raped the little girl's youngest aunt when the little girl was three.  She remembers this, remembers the blood all over her aunt's clothing and the hole ripped in her pants.  Her family does not speak of it.  Although she is a little girl and does not understand, she knows that the subject is verboten.

The mother of the little girl is pregnant again, this time by another man who will soon marry her.  The pregnancy is difficult and the mother must stay in the hospital to be watched.  The little girl is being cared for by her "Titi."  She loves her Titi like she loves her Barbies.  Her Titi is there to protect her.

When the little girl's father comes over one day and asks to take her shopping for school clothes, Titi is wary of him.  She insists on coming along.  She insists on bringing the little girl's brother, who shares her father.  Titi tells the little girl to be good;  to show interest in some dresses and girl clothes even though she does not like girlie clothes.   Titi holds the little girl's hand and the boy holds their father's hand.  Titi would not leave the little girl alone with her father.

This little girl is only five.  She is anxious because her Titi seems to be afraid of something.  When they get to the store, the little girl rushes in and picks up an ugly dress, the first dress she sees.  "Isn't it pretty, Titi?"  Her Titi runs in after her.

When she turns around, her father and her brother are gone.  The little girl does not see her brother for more than four years. 

She misses kindergarten, and instead watches Channel Thirteen.  Sesame Street.  The Electric Company.  Mister Rogers.  She cannot understand why her family do not speak of her brother.  Brought to you by the letter "B."  She is not sure that she really has a brother.  It's a beautiful day in the neigh-bor-hood, a beautiful day for a neighbor-would-you be mine?  She does not know why there are police and reporters at her house all the time. "Hey, you guys!"  She does not understand why everyone is worried about the baby her mother is carrying.  

More than four years later, her brother is spotted in Seattle, Washington.  He is living with his father, his wife and stepson.  The boy had been beaten brutally almost every day.  Broken bones.  Terrorized cruelly for four years.  All meant for the little girl.  She believes this is all her fault.

The lilttle girl's mother and grandmother go across the country to find the girl's brother.  Before they leave, they buy her a Western Barbie, the one that winks when a button is pressed.  She does not understand where they are going.  Wink.  She's nine now, and she thinks everyone is leaving her.  Wink.  For four years she was not allowed to say her brother's name.  But she refuses to stop saying "mommy." 

The little girl is now 29 years old.  She lives in Queens.  She has an eight year old boy on whom her world rests.  The father of her boy wants nothing to do with him.  This woman does not like her job;  she dreams of her becoming a police officer.  She is the only member of her family who has escaped the projects.  She works every day and saves what she can when she is not taking care of the needs of her extended family, who all rely on her to be their lighthouse.

What happened to her brother?  He also has an eight year old. A daughter.  He has had extensive counselling, but still expresses his anger in unacceptable ways.  He's beaten his girlfriends.  He has a fiery temper. And now he wants to kill his 15 year old cousin.

Why? Inappropriate touching.  The cousin touched, "molested," his eight year old daughter.  The cousin is out in the streets, in the rain, in fear of what the brother, his own cousin, will do to him. 

Our little girl feels guilty again.  Somehow this is her fault again. It's her fault because she was the one who should have been kidnapped.  She is the one against whom her father's rage was directed.  The rage she now sees in her own brother.  When will it stop?  When will our little girl be allowed to breathe a breath which is not filled with fear? 

She's working on it.  She manages to smile despite it all.  She manages to stay focused on her goals.  She has carved out a space of light in what otherwise might be a very dark world.

And all without having gone to kindergarten. 

"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?" -The Second Coming. W.B. Yeats

Thomas Aquinas attributes to sloth all sins related to ignorance. Not knowing enough is simply a matter of our not caring to know. On the subject of dating and relationships, however, I disagree with old Tom on some levels.

It's impossible to count the number of publications written about the subject. A Google search on the word "dating" yields more than 138 million sites! We can't read or learn enough about human relationships. People much smarter than me have tried to de-mystify, codify, dissect or otherwise shed light on how two people come together and stay together. And those works sell.

People are lazy in love not because they know too little. Unfortunately, Slothful or Lazy Dates may know too much. They just don't do anything about it. A date can be Lazy at any number of points during an interaction.

Sloth from the Start

One surefire way to fail at dating is not to try. I know more than a few people who have "given up" on dating and relationships, and try to convince me - and themselves - that they are content being alone. We all know them: these are your friends who never go out. There's usually some semi-valid excuse, whether it be work or family or pets, for their having dropped out of the dating scene.

Then there are those Sloths who may meet us and may be interested in a date but don't call. Now, before you all start with the "he's just not into you" mantra, I'm not placing the scarlet "S" on every man who has failed to call me in my dating life. What I want to convey is that there are some people who have genuine interest who never take the first step. Sure, it takes courage to ask for a date. Sure, it stinks to be turned down. But seldom do we get what we do not ask for.

Sloth in the Middle

Though we may feel safe after a few good dates with someone, we are not free from the grasp of sinister Sloth. The Lazy Date may have yet to emerge until after a relationship is established. These folks will approach and pursue with the zeal of a convert. Creative dates. Interesting conversations. Wonderful sex.  What fun!

Then the Sloth shows up. No longer are plans made. No longer is effort made to be interesting or creative. The burden of making our plans shifts over to us. Why? Does our date no longer care?

One male friend of mine has been dating a wonderful woman for more than a year now. Initially, she participated in making plans for dates and for vacations. Over time, he has been saddled with more and more of the plan-making.  Their last vacation was planned and chosen entirely by him, despite his having started a new job and his studying for his Boards examination.  A discussion about this brought out some of his concerns.  He does not mind doing the work of making dates and planning their activities as a couple.  He does worry that his decisions will not be well-received.  The pressure.
It's sad, since this is a nice woman who cares about him.  I can see his frustration, and the behavior is jeapordizing their relationship.  Who wants to make such effort only to be worried all the time?

Sometimes the Sloth shows up in bed.  All of us have been with a Lazy Lover;  the one who may enjoy our advances but makes no move to please us.  He falls asleep, convienently, after he is satisfied.  She enjoys but does not reciprocate certain acts.  We may tell ourselves that things in the bedroom will even out over time.  But when weeks or months go by and we've been doing all the work, we begin to feel resentment.  

How do we fix this?  Sometimes a frank conversation is enough.  Lazy behaviors may be bred out of fear of failure.  What if he does not like the dates I plan?  What if I am not good at ____ sex act?   If they don't try, they can't fail, right? We must also examine our own behaviors in the relationship.  Do we show appreciation when our date plans something for us or do we complain about its shortcomings?  Do we take the time to share our bedroom fantasies or needs with our lover? 

The Sloth in Life

Sometimes laziness transcends the dating world.  When eHarmony performs matches (not that I recommend their site; I've nicknamed it "eHOMELY."  And I am not that picky about looks, either), they use "energy level" as a matching criterion.  When we and our dates don't jive on this level, there is little chance of success. 

I wake up at 5:30 on most mornings.  It's tough for me to sleep past 8 am, even on weekends. I am constantly on the go, travelling between offices and hospitals, from home to the gym or to the Park, to restaurants or parties or to visit friends and family. It's almost impossible for me to watch television for more than 30 minutes, excluding sports.  If I were to date a man who liked to sit at home, sleep and watch television all the time, there would be no future for us. 

Bottom line:  The Sloth is a frustrating date.  If the issues behind the laziness are not addressed, then that laziness can and will kill a relationship.   When Sloth pervades a personality, there is little hope for a match with a non-Sloth.  If Aquinas is correct that sloth is the ghost behind ignorance, then I would add that fear is the root of sloth.

The Sloth Inside

I get lazy about some things.  And I frustrate myself.  For instance, I have not posted here in a couple of weeks.  Thanks to those friends and readers who have sent "gentle reminders" of my lapse.

To all of you who commented and enjoyed the Seven Sins Series, Thanks!  Please let me know what other topics about which you would enjoy reading.  Namaste.