fredag 9 juli 2010
MORFAR OCH SOLIDARISKA BARN
Efter en låtsas och något barnslig Almedalsturnering på Gotland, där de feodala parti-aristokrater har korsat svärden och fått motståndare bita i sanden inför de egna redan frälsta,( till största delen betalt av hård skattade svenska bönder och borgare,se förre inlägget) vill morfar lämna en vacker historia om riktiga barns solidaritet, som jag fick i morse.
Morfar lägger till en snut om ett tragiskt barn som gjorde en underbar låt om att barnen kan göra världen a better place to live in.
Här kommer historia:
---------------------------------------------------
What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection.
Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.
Where is the natural order of things in my son?'
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.
Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat.. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.
As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over.
The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.
Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.
Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first!
Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.
He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
B y the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'
Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third!
Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
AND NOW A LITTLE FOOT NOTE TO THIS STORY:
We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate.
The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren't the 'appropriate' ones to receive this type of message Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference.
We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.'
So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:
Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them.
You now have two choices:
1. Delete
2. Forward
May your day, be a Shay Day.
mj
Morfar lägger till en snut om ett tragiskt barn som gjorde en underbar låt om att barnen kan göra världen a better place to live in.
Här kommer historia:
---------------------------------------------------
What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection.
Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.
Where is the natural order of things in my son?'
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.'
Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'
Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.
In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three.
In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.
Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?
Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat.. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.
The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay.
As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over.
The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman.
Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.
Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first!
Run to first!'
Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.
He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.
B y the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.
He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.
Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'
Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third!
Shay, run to third!'
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'
Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team
'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
AND NOW A LITTLE FOOT NOTE TO THIS STORY:
We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate.
The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren't the 'appropriate' ones to receive this type of message Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference.
We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.'
So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:
Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them.
You now have two choices:
1. Delete
2. Forward
May your day, be a Shay Day.
mj
torsdag 8 juli 2010
MORFAR OCH LÄMMELTÅGET
MORFAR OCH LÄMMELTÅGET
Nu är det dags igen. Plötsligt skall hela det politiska etablissemanget rusa österut och träffas i en stad som har en kvart av det antal invånare som finns i min hemort Nacka.
Det vill säga i bästa fall, för många Visbybor är borta på semester och har till de vanliga turisternas stora förtret, hyrt ut varenda madrass till bisarra överpriser åt politikerna och svansen av hundratals journalister, linslusen, lobbyister, och andra frotterare.
Särskild miljövänligt är det inte, för det är svårt att komma med buss eller tåg till Gotland.
Precis som i ett lämmeltåg vet ingen varför man skall vara på ett så olämpligt ställe mitt i havet, men som ett skrämt fiskstim vänder alla sig åt det hållet som den första fisken gör.
Varför inte stanna i huvudstaden med bra ackommodation, stora sammanträdesalar, bra kollektiv trafik, goda kommunikationer med hela landet, närmare till maktens boningar och mindre skadlig solstrålning ?
OCH ETT OBEGRÄNSAT ANTAL POTENTIELLA VÄLJARE att vända sig till!
Bara för att ett parti började på en liten gräsplätt som kallas för Almedalen, så måste nästa parti av konkurrensskäl (även om man är ideologisk mot konkurrens) också vara där och så nästa, och nästa.
Och utan att tänka efter har vi fått en egen Strasbourgkarusell.
En hel cirkus, baserat på förhoppning att få vara med några snuttar i TV eller rikstidningar, MEN utan publik. Det är patetiskt att se vänster- eller högeralliansens topptrio eller kvartett, tala för högst ett hundratal kameramän och mikrofonhållare.
Idag var det Centerns dag, som började med ett fiffigt utspel i morgontidningen om alliansens favorit kategori - de arbetsföra.
Men allt blir sabbat av att självaste arbetsmarknadsminister väljer just denna dag för att avgå och att en av centerns främsta riksdagskvinnor - en känd skådespelerska - går över till Socialdemokraterna.
With such friends, who needs enemies?
Och av ett tillfälle spelar Tyskland mot Spanien halvfinalen i VM fotboll.
Proffsigt timad!
En gång låg jag med båten inblåst i Visby när Almedalsshowen pågick och jag minns att en vänlig äldre medborgare kände igen sin partiledare som i duggregnet gick med sina gorillor på det nästan tomma torget. Farbror gick glad och leende med utsträckt hand till den stora mannen och sa:”Jag röstar på dig.”
Men det skulle han inte ha gjort.
Gorillorna lämnade artigt plats, den Stora Ledaren fick ögonkontakt med gamlingen, var synliges irriterat, vände bort blicken, viftade föraktfullt bort honom och plockade fram mobilen och började trycka på knapparna utan att stanna.
Den kränkta mannen stod en stund chockad kvar, tittade omkring sig för att kolla om andra hade sedd hans förnedring och gick sakta tillbaka i riktningen han kom ifrån.
Då fattade jag att Almedalsveckan inte är för väljare men en teater för inbördes beundran för politikerklassen och alla de som är beroende av denna elit.
Förresten, något liknande hände mig i Nackas köpcentrum, Forum, för många år sedan. Jag tyckte att en dam verkade bekant och jag har som vana att hellre hälsa en gång för mycket än för liten, så jag nickade och sa hej när vi passerade varandra. Damen tittade stint på mig, stängde ögon, lyfte upp huvud och vände demonstrativt bort det. I det ögonblick kom jag ihåg att hon var den politiker som hade problem med chokladberoendet.
Det kanske skulle funka bättre nu i valtiden, för de äldres röstar är värdefulla och till den 16: september lovas vi pensionärer oh så mycket, som förstås blir glömt den 17:
Jag läste en gång att i England finns en tävling om: The biggest liar of the year - där advokater och politiker inte får delta.
mj
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