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
Re: the title of your blog
ReplyDeleteI knew a man who used to drive us all over the city, never-complaining and never quickly. He was often tired as he didn’t sleep much, but we were never sure why that was…or even where that was. He would appear and disappear without explanation or apology. But when you needed a ride, hey, he would roll up that Oldsmobile tank and take you anywhere you wanted to go. And wait for you. And take you home.
There was a slight price to pay, though. He would sort of stroll his car along at a maddeningly deliberate pace, much below the speed limit and most often in the fast lane. His driving was…peculiar.
He was a virtuoso on the Bronx narrow streets. As the green light seemed to dim, he would patiently roll to a stop, anticipating yellow, then eventually the red (“See, whad I tellya!”). At which point, his triple chin would drop like a rock, his eyes would smash shut and he would mumble: “Wake me when the light turns green…” to the horror of his hostages in car seats.
When he was loudly informed we were on green again, he would jovially press the gas pedal to a resounding 10 or 12 MPH and continue the journey to the next nap.
He was the gentlest of men. He was fat and sloppy, smelled like feet and wore the same clothes often till they ran off him in protest. His hair was unfashionably long and his teeth a little greenish. He spent his life in “Dry goods.” And racetracks. He made and lost many fortunes, but was ever-optimistic the next one was going to be the big and best one.
He could wax eloquently over a 100% percale sheet or a dappled filly with the same passion and have you enthralled. He charmed the yentas who came into his store and they would only buy from him, because Smiley knew his stuff. He loved being called Smiley, but his name was Otto.
He had a foot in the old country and an elbow in the new. He was an American with an Austrian suave, he thought. He was generous with his advice, his philosophies, his jokes, his wisdom, and his long boring stories. He let his children and wife rail at him for his many failures, and then got up the next day full of hope, joy and enthusiasm because he was going to hit on this day.
He filled a room. He was a force. He became my dad. When a skinny pregnant 20 year-old showed up at his door with nothing but a brown paper bag holding all her belongings, he made a promise. He became a protector, a friend. In a hostile household of disappointed family, he would adore me with his eyes, as I cooked his favorite foods (“Such a cook she is!”). He would encourage me to share my college lessons with him, and I remember discussing the Vietnam War strategy with him (McKinder’s Rim Theory!) and we debated that concept for days. (“She is schmart as whip, I tell ya!”) He listened to me and I listened to him. That is rare in the world.
As my belly grew, he sought to fill it. He would Carvel me, eggroll me and pampered me. I was not an unwed mother, an unwanted wife; I was his darling daughter-in-law. He bragged about me and he showed me off proudly. When the labor pains started, he sat by my side for 36 hours. He stroked my hand, he wiped my brow. He yelled at the doctors to do something. He charged down hospital corridors. He was there. His was the only face I remember seeing after my child was born.
I have heard many things about the guy who used to nap at the green light. Maybe some are true and maybe he could have done things differently, been more financially responsible, maybe a better dad and surely a more considerate husband. But Otto was my hero, my only friend at a very scary time.
He is dead a long time and I smell him and feel him still. I hope I told him enough times what a difference he made in my life.