Does anybody read these?

Crossing the line

I have a friend -- a real friend, not one I met on the Internet -- who sends me tons of e-mails on various topics throughout the course of the day. A lot of them are forwards, with or without her personal commentary. Some of them are just funny, "Hey, look at what I saw on the Internet;" some are urban legends (I used to reply back with a link to snopes.com, until she sent an email out about how snopes.com is just liberal propaganda); and, speaking of propaganda, a lot of her e-mails are crazy-ass, right-wing bullshit.

I don't know if she reads my blog or not. I guess we might find out. And, I've never responded negatively to her e-mails, even though some of them have insulted me to the core of my being.

Why, you ask?

Well, because she is a good person with a kind heart. Everyone has their own political beliefs, although sometimes I wonder if people use "political beliefs" to hide behind some other beliefs from some of what I've read... She's just of a different generation. At least she keeps in touch.

So, even though Barack Obama isn't a Muslim, has a birth certificate and is no less capable of being president than any other native son just because his skin's a little darker, I've never gone off on her or called her out. Even when she sends me crazy Glenn Beck rants that are flat-out wrong, I never correct her.

There's no point. Much like I'm never going to read one of her right-wing e-mails (well, what I read of them, most of them hit the trash because the subjects piss me off) and become a Republican, she's not going to suddenly believe that Obama was born in Hawaii because I e-mail her a PDF of his birth certificate (it's readily available all over the Internet, for any loony toonies who are interested).

As for being insulted, for those of you who may be new, I have my lovely cunada (how do I make a tilde on here?!), Senorita Benitez, and mi sobrino favorito, Juanito en la familia. Translation: My sister-in-law Miss Benitez (now Mrs. Richards Benitez) and my favorite nephew John in my family. Anyhow, I don't take jokes about spics and beaners and whatever else nastiness people come up with, very lightly. I'm color blind and I don't care whether you have your papers or not. It's not my concern, nor is it anyone else's as long as you are a valuable member of society. And let's face it, no American with papers is going to pick oranges for $5/bushel. It's not really legal anyhow. And god forbid the price of Tropicana go up.

But, still, her Mexican jokes took me aback, but never once did I try to make a right with two wrongs by going on the defensive. Even when I wanted to lash out because it hurt me and my family. I just let it go. I shouldn't, I know. I should stand up for mis amigos y mi familia (my friends and family). And, for the most part I do. You don't want to debate immigration reform with me, and you sure as hell don't want to let me know you're a racist.

Yet, none of that really pissed me off. Different generation, head full of Fox News propaganda. Sometimes you can't help it.

Until today. Today, I get an email about the "truth about the pink ribbon campaign." I won't bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say, breast cancer awareness is some big sham created by the pharmaceutical companies and it won't ever cure breast cancer because they don't want it to. Masectomies, chemo, radiation, medications -- all part of the sham. Getting the cancer removed can't actually save you, according to this email. It just makes you look like a deformed freak, who's still full of cancer.

Now, I am not a doctor. And I don't know who started the pink ribbon campaign. I do know that I give money to Susan G. Komen every year, and I can't believe that someone wouldn't have called them out if they didn't give that money to scientists who were working on a cure. And I also know that regardless of how close we are to finding a cure for cancer (which is no easy feat, I might add) that the pink ribbon campaign is important. If you don't believe me, ask one of my best friends who lost her mom to this horrible disease. Next year, she gets the genetic testing and, if she has the gene, she plans to go ahead and get a masectomy to try to prevent cancer. Is that really any different from eating whole foods or stopping smoking? I don't think it is.

Whether the pink ribbon ever cures cancer or not, it has brought awareness to the cause. Because 26 years ago (when the campaign first started) you still talked about cancer, especially breast cancer, in whispers. I know this, because that's about the time that my mom's best friend got diagnosed with this horrible disease. And we always whispered about Cindy's cancer. Hell, that's how you knew it was bad, when people whispered about it.

Now, 26 years later, we have "feel your boobies" and "save the ta-tas" campaigns. The valet at the Hard Rock Cafe last night was wearing a pink polo shirt and the restaurant had a line of pink drinks, with a portion of the costs going to breast cancer. And no one whispers anymore. When we talk about Shay's mom, we don't whisper. When we talk about Shay maybe having to get her breasts removed, we don't whisper. Hell, we tell people to feel their boobies and save their tatas.

I love that this month is one big, giant ball of pink awareness. And, you know what? I will bet every dime I have (although it's close to pay day, so that's not much) that this pink ribbon campaign has saved lives. Because now we shout "feel your boobies" instead of whispering "she has the breast cancer," and I bet at least one woman has heard us, given herself an exam and found a lump in time to fight the cancer and beat it.

Yeah, definitely, at least one.

Happy Pinktober, everyone. Don't forget to feel your boobies!

posted by Laura at 9:48 AM