Loss of American Jobs Poem

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Since this country was founded, there have always been displaced workers due to either a better way of doing thing, being replaced by technology, and/or finding a cheaper source of labor.

You can't expect the President to understand and identify with every American worker's jobs which have been outsourced. He has to worry about the collective, not the selective. He has a myriad of things on his plate.

Put the blame where it belongs and which you so eloquently wrote about in your letter: Corporate Greed, plain and simple. A handful get to be the haves and the rest of us get to be reluctant have-nots who don't know how to fight back.

As long as eveything revolves around money for these cretins, let's hit them in the pocketbook. If you take insurance with AIG, cancel it. Don't shop at WalMart, whose inventory is 90% Chinese. So what if it is cheaper. You are helping this by supporting it. Try to buy American as much as possible. There are web sites that will give you listings of companies which still make domestic products. Support companies that stay in the US and boycott those who offshore or have greedy b*stards running the show.

We really have so much power and we don't know it. Case in point: The Alabama bus system crumbled under the boycott from the black riders when Rosa Parks was arrested. We can do that, too. We don't even have to organize. We can singly just boycott what personally gets under our skin. As long as money talks, let it also talk for The Everyman.

We have become lazy and complacent, and that is when this kind of stuff is allowed to happen.

I posted this same message on Company Board in hopes someone could help me find this.......

I have been searching for a poem that I received in a Medware newsletter several years ago when I worked for them. It was about MTing, the terms and such. The only thing I can remember about it was the ending which went something like but my favorite term has to be a toenailectomy. I am not sure if that is it exactly but it was similar. It was a fairly length poem and was pretty funny.

I have looked through all of my files and cannot find it anywhere. I have moved since I got it so it may have been thrown away. I have a friend who is an MT and she is retiring from the hospital she works for and would like to give it to her if I can.

I thought one of you good people might happen to know what I am talking about. If anyone does, could you please e-mail it to me. I would greatly appreciate it.

SOLDIERS NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS"

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"Merry Christmas, My Friend" by LCpl James M Schmidt, USMC, 1986

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,

In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give

and to see just who in this home did live

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,

no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.

On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,

a sobering thought soon came to my mind.

For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen.

This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories about them, I had to see more,

so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.

And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,

Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,

Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.

Was this the hero, of whom I'd just read?

Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.

I soon understood, this was more than a man.

For I realized the families that I saw that night,

owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,

And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,

because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,

on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.

Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.

I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,

"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.

My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,

I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.

I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,

and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.

Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,

with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.

And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,

and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,

this guardian of honor so willing to fight.

But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,

said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all secure."

One look at my watch and I knew he was right,

Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.

PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as may people
as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and we should all be aware of
where credit for our being able to celebrate these festivities is due.
Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people
stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
Please, do your small part to plant this small seed

I too loss my father at the end of September. I think you are handling it fine but grief is differant for everyone. So I thought I would just post a small note about what has helpped me. I do not look at it as my father is gone. For me, he has merely graduated to a differant plane of existance. This plane of existance allowes his spirit the freedome from his failing corporial body, so that now instead of being able to visit occasionally, he is with me all the time. He is no longer in pain, and all those little memories are his way af saying I am still here with you, watching over you. I still talk to him and ask his advice and guidance, and usually if I am very quiet.. I can hear what he would say. Perhaps it is just my imagination or perhaps it is really his spirit making conatact. Either way it gives me comfort and makes the loss a little less painful. I hope this helps you in your time of grief. My best wishes to you.

I have a Beagle that I took in a short time ago. He came from a shelter and has had some medical problems. Although I have never been in your situation, your post made my eyes tear up. Pets do become such an important part of your family and you love them so very much. Just know that you have ended the suffering of your beloved pet and a better place is to come.

When I was in the military, one of our docs read an OB ultrasound on an anencephalic fetus. He didn't bother to pick up the phone and call the OB, and somehow either the report didn't reach the OB or it didn't get read. In any case, the initial ultrasound was when the woman was in the first trimester, and it wasn't until she was well into her second trimester and had a second ultrasound that her OB became aware of the situation.

I don't know what happened with her - whether she carried it to term or not, but obviously it could not live outside the womb. And if she had found out during her first trimester, it would have been a lot easier on her physically, if not emotionally.

I had never liked that particular doctor. He always seemed like he became a doctor because of the money, not because he wanted to help people. After the incident described above, I disliked him even more.