The Coonridge Digest: We’re doing okay. We really are.

Greetings from the Ridge.

The President announces he’s going to address the schoolchildren of the nation on the importance of working hard and studying. Forty calls immediately light up the dial in a Colorado school, protesting. Radio talk show hosts denounce this obvious display of propagandizing even though both Presidents G.W. Bush and Reagan had given similar pep talks with no controversy.

A 65-year-old opponent of the health care plan gets angry at a California rally, takes a swing at another man and gets his pinky bitten off in the process.

Let’s be honest. There’s a lot of hate out there and the current health care debate just happens to be the weakest point in the fault line. Lots more bubbling down below. And whenever you see a rumble of hate it’s a sure bet that there’s a volcanic river of fear running right underneath it and causing all the tremors. Lots of folks are afraid.

Afraid of what? Depends on your degree of honesty and your knowledge of yourself, but it all comes down to the fear of change and the fear that any change in one of the basic support systems of our society will crash down upon our own heads. Fear. It’s the ugliest beast on the planet.

Tom Lightle was mowing his yard on this little John Deere last week, looked down at his gas gauge and saw that he was running low. He shut off the blades and took out across town for the gas station. Tom found that John Deere riding mowers don’t run on fumes and somewhere in the neighborhood of Henry Richardson’s house he ran out. He considered pushing the mower the rest of the way then thought better of it and took out for the station on foot, figuring he could borrow a can somewhere. Tom didn’t go half a block before he was offered a ride, hadn’t gone two before he was offered gas, and when he returned 20 minutes later somebody had filled up his tank for him. We’re doing okay. We really are.

Talia Leman is 17 years old and lives in rural Iowa. In 2005, at the age of 13, she was moved by the plight of kids who were victims of hurricanes Katrina and Rita. Talia started making noise. Talia started making phone calls. Talia started building a web of children across the nation – children who raised 10 million dollars. Talia’s doing okay. We are too.

I insist on pulling over to take a call on my cell phone. Honk at me all you want when I slow down and kick up a bit of gravel on the shoulder, that’s tough. You’d be better off ignoring me and keeping your eyes on the road since now one-fifth of all drivers coming at you are talking on their cell. Last week I was driving but it was my phone that was ringing. I’d just told a friend to call me back with a meeting time and I needed to take the call. While Herb growled about the embarrassment of pulling off the road in broad daylight and hunkered down in his seat so no one would notice that we’re still married, I stopped the car and the took the call. That is, I tried to take the call. Car after car pulled up behind us to see of we needed help. Some even stopped right on the highway, rolled down their window and asked if we were in trouble. Friends, I did not know a one of these people. Not a soul. Let’s ease up on the fear factor… we’re doing okay, we really are.

Despite the tough economic times, Americans donated $307 billion to charitable causes last year and individual contributions accounted for 82% of that giving. This figure was down just 5% from the previous year, despite the fact that our citizens had less to give. On a worldwide scale, no nation comes close to our philanthropy as we double the percentage of GDP donated by Great Britain in the number two spot. We’re doing okay.

My friend Jason just returned from a week’s camping in Colorado. He’d broken a bolt on their camper and sent his wife into a nearby town to get parts. When she got to the counter with her handful of parts she discovered she’d left her billfold at the campsite and told the clerk she’d have to come back later to pick up the merchandise. Jason told me, "The guy just smiled, took out his own billfold, paid her tab and said, `No need to make the trip. Let me help you enjoy your trip.’" We really are doing okay. Let’s just all breathe a minute, shall we?

The average Joe on the street does not carry a gun to a Presidential rally, does not bite fingers of his opponents, and genuinely does not hate me. Or you. The average Joe on the street wants to be safe, wants security for his family, but knows that not everyone starts off with an equal chance in life and if we can afford to help another without putting our own well-being in danger, then that’s something that ought to be done. He really does.

If we are threatened from outside forces, let’s be afraid, but when we look at each other – our fellow countrymen, no matter what their heritage – even when we look at our leaders, let’s ease up a bit and take a look at the truth. We’re doing okay. We really are.

You ever in Coonridge, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.