Hush Rush

An Open Letter to Clear Channel Communications

I am very confused. Last week, your stations nationwide aired several misogynistic, vitriolic and just plain disgusting tirades by Rush Limbaugh. He personally attacked not only Sandra Fluke, a Georgetown law student, but also every woman in America to include our mothers, wives, sisters and daughters. He capped his comments off by requesting that Ms. Fluke and her fellow female classmates post videos of themselves having sex on the internet for him and the world to view (sounds like he voiced his inside fantasies outside ). 

My questions to you are these: Why do you deem this acceptable behavior? Why was this violent diatribe not immediately rebuked by your company? Why was Limbaugh allowed to continue spewing his throw-up for several days? And lastly, why have you still not come out publicly and, at the very least, denounced him or at the best, fired him?

There have been many instances over the years of public figures saying stupid, insulting and degrading things about various segments in our society because they became blinded by their own egos. In most cases, these people were penalized by a loss of their position. No one has ever spouted off the hate that Rush did with impunity. 

Ms. Fluke was exercising her freedom of speech after being silenced by a congressional subcommittee that didn’t think a woman should weigh-in on the contraceptive topic. Well, you may say, that is exactly what Rush was doing. Wrong. Rush was yelling “Fire” in a crowded movie theater. He was inciting hatred and violence against women and anyone else who disagrees with him. 

When Hank Williams, Jr. compared Barak Obama to Hitler, his song was immediately pulled from Monday Night Football. When Limbaugh calls women "feminazis", he is hailed. And who, sir are the real Nazis? The women who are fighting for respect and equality or the men who want to verbally and physically rape and demean them and take their voices away.

During a recent tour of the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., I listened to the haunting voices of concentration camp survivors. After the liberation of one camp, American servicemen gently and respectfully helped the women to freedom. As she was being led, one woman began crying and whispered softly to her liberator “This is the first time that I have been treated as a human in many years.” Yes, Limbaugh and his ilk are very reminiscent of the Nazis.

But, he apologized, you say. “I think it is absolutely absurd that during these very serious political times, we are discussing personal sexual recreational activities before members of Congress. I personally do not agree that American citizens should pay for these social activities. What happened to personal responsibility and accountability?” said Limbaugh in his statement. 

Millions of Americans are taking daily medications because they have not taken personal responsibility for their health and they have decided it is easier to take a pill than make changes such as adding exercise and getting better eating habits. And let us not forget Viagra. Limbaugh doesn’t seem to take issue with insurance companies paying for that little drug that is purely a quality of life medication. Oh but wait, it benefits men and therefore should be considered a necessity. It is quite clear that personal responsibility has nothing to do with whether a drug should be covered or not. 

The only thing Limbaugh got right in his apology was the fact that there are many more important issues that we should be debating right now. The fact that we are still discussing women’s health issues, their access to medication and their right to decide what they can do with their bodies is frightening. These issues have already been decided…decades ago. But, like the Taliban did in Afghanistan, the rabid right wing are using fear and hate to further their agenda and turn our country back into the dark ages. 

Perhaps this firestorm is exactly what Limbaugh wanted. And that is sick unto itself. While a big part of me does not want to give him the attention he craves, a bigger part wants to see him gone. This war on women must stop. Using weak words like “inappropriate” and “poor choice of words” to describe his ignorance and perversion are not “adequate”. 

Hush Rush. He must go. Or we will.

Sincerely,

A former listener

Who I want to be when I grow up....

She was born the fourth daughter to a poor but proud woman in the backwoods of Alabama 75 years ago. By the age of three, her father left her mother alone and penniless to finishing raising their family. He left with no word or forwarding address back in the day when there were not many legal ways for a single woman to make a living for herself and her children and certainly no legal rights to seek child support. He left a beautiful, kind toddler who would grow up to be an even more beautiful and caring adult. He left my mother (in-love), Sammye, fatherless but certainly not loveless.

I first met Sammye over the phone when as an 18 year old, I shyly called to wish my brand new boyfriend good luck. It was my freshman and his senior year in college. I was flying on a jet plane to New York City and he was driving on a bus to Savannah to play in the last Spring Break baseball tournament of his college career. The dichotomy was not lost on us then nor today. She was following him as his number one fan (I would become a close second during the course of the next few months).

“Hello,” I said. “Is Kirk there?”

“Why, no. You just missed him!” said my future MIL in her signature chipper way.

“Would you tell him I said good luck,” I replied.

Sensing my deep disappointment, she responded kindly that she certainly would make sure he got my message. And she did. Her son had the tournament of his career and she the time of her life as she did at all of his games. When I finally met her in person, she was quick to give me the credit as his inspiration. Over the years, I came to understand that this humble woman rarely took credit for many of the things she accomplished or influenced in her life.

That was the beginning of our almost 30 year relationship. It wasn’t long after my future husband and I began dating that I became a welcome fixture in her household. Family dinners included a fourth setting for me and there was always room on road trips for my suitcase. When I finally ran out of money but still had one semester of college left, Sammye took me in without any hesitation and treated me as her own and has ever since. 

It was through her that I learned how to be a mother and wife, although she’s still trying to teach me to cook (she’s tenacious and never gives up!). I learned how to be patient and how to express disappointment with just one look to wayward children, dogs and husband. I learned that you can be worlds apart in your political and religious beliefs but still maintain a deep and respectful love. But most importantly, I learned that it is not the amount of money in your bank account but rather the deposit in your heart that means the most at the end of the day.

Sammye and her family never had a lot of extras in their lives. Early on, she made the choice to stay home and raise her children becoming one of the best domestic engineers of her time and she managed their meager funds wisely. She was a wife to a hardworking brewery employee who worked multiple shifts to earn extra money to meet their essential expenses. They took family vacations to the coast every year and took joy in each other’s company along the way. Eating out was a luxury and church a necessity! 

They chased hurricanes and took spontaneous cross country road trips and laughed a lot and mostly at themselves. She didn’t drive a fancy car nor did she wear designer clothes. She taught her sons the value of a dollar (with one the lesson took and with the other…) and she taught them to treat a woman with respect.

When her first grandchild arrived her heart runneth over with love and after the arrival of her last, Sammye’s life was completely fulfilled. Baseball, football, cheer and dance filled her days. Her only disappointment-- the fact that she lived five hours away. But, she soon figured out a solution and during long seasons she packed her bags and was welcomed warmly into our home. During her stays, her son (my husband) would take her out on date nights, just time for the two of them. She cooked us all our favorite meals (any sort of home cooked meal was a treat in our house) and she did loads of laundry! She refused to be a burden and insisted on working for her room and board even when we begged her to just relax--a word that wasn’t in her vocabulary.

But now, our last season is upon us and a new one is set to begin. This strong woman is not as healthy as she once was. Her diabetes and arthritis are winning their daily battles and vertigo has taken hold. Her grandchildren are recognizing that she won’t be around forever and have started hugging her a little tighter and more often. Her laughter is still contagious and often. It’s now time for us to begin driving the five hours to be with her and to enjoy the time we have left together.

We are not alone as we struggle to recognize that life does have a time limit. We want to eek out every moment we can before the final buzzer sounds. And at the end of the day, I want my mother-in-love to know that she made a difference. The wife/mother/woman and the husband/father/man we are today and the ones my daughter and sons will be tomorrow are because of her, Sammye Carolyn Traylor.

You Will Always Be Remembered

Dear Cancer,

Six years ago today, you took my best friend away from me. I learned then that you don’t fight fair. You struck our family in the middle of the night and attacked the person we least expected. 

He did everything right. He didn’t smoke, he rarely drank, he ran marathons and worked out almost daily. He was kind to children and animals and had a wonderful life ahead of him. But, in your jealousy and with viciousness you struck.

You did show some mercy. The first sign that you were insidiously eating away at him was a grand mal seizure in the middle of the night while he was safely ensconced in his bed. I suppose it could have been worse. He had just driven three hours with his beautiful girlfriend and you could have attacked while he was on the road. You waited…

We had optimism in the hospital that day and the next that it was just a benign tumor. And while we hoped, you laughed. With each update from the doctors, the news got worse until finally we had a diagnosis—a malignant brain tumor typically found in young children and rarely found in adults. Apparently, you had been lying dormant for quite some time waiting for the right moment to show your ugly self.

The moment you picked was at the height of his life. He was 35, successful and finally happy with both his personal life and his professional career. He had met the woman of his dreams, the one with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. And in this he did.

For almost three years, he fought you courageously. And he was not alone in this battle. With a battalion of doctors, friends and family, we took you head on. We went to the world’s best doctors and hospitals and left no study unturned.  We learned a whole new language and met many new friends along our journey. Through it all, he maintained his sense of humor and his incredible sense of direction, guiding us all to the places we didn’t necessarily want to be but needed to see.

We even thought we had you beat once. For almost a year, you hid yourself. This gave him time to run his last marathon and to get married. And it challenged me to live up to the promise I made to God that if he went into remission I, too, would run a marathon. It gave us all time to embrace his life. 

But as is human nature, we got complacent. We thought we had kicked you to the curb. We had not and on Mother’s Day 2005 you chose to let us know that you would not give up your quest for his life. And this time, deep in our hearts we knew you might just win.

Those last eight months were filled with many highs and some lows. He got married and finally went to Europe. He spent time in the mountains --the one place on earth he could always find peace. He laughed with his wife and cried with his sister. He suffered indignities that at any other time would have left him feeling vulnerable and embarrassed but in his desire to squeak out every moment with his new wife, he suffered them gladly.

His shouts of “I love Carrie” and the joy he showed for the simplest gestures of support brought tears to my heart. But perhaps it was his last words to me that bring me light when my own world seems dark, “You good mom,” he said as my tears fell on his bald head.

Those last weeks were brutal. Cancer, you showed no mercy. You robbed him of his speech, his hair and most of his movement. But, you never took away his dignity nor his compassion for others. To the end, he comforted us.

With soft jazz playing in the background, his wife laying by his side, and his family surrounding him with love, Ryan David Serber passed gently in the early morning hours of January 9, 2006. 

But, his legacy has lived on. His nieces and nephews dedicate their achievements to their Uncle Ryan. In subtle places, they put reminders of him: under the bill of their baseball caps there is always a dedication to “Uncle Ryan” and around their wrists a bracelet that says "R.S. we will always remember". 

Ultimately Cancer, you lost. Ryan taught people to love, live and laugh. He lived his life his way and will never be forgotten.

Sincerely,
Ryan's big sister