wrong?" Usually I fail spectacularly at committing moral outrages, but
this morning, I made good on my goal.
Planned Parenthood sought extra volunteers for one of their clinics
this morning. Last week, about a dozen people showed up to harass and
intimidate people going to the clinic, so they asked for more help
just in case those guardians of morality and saviors of the pure
unborn showed up again. It's been over 10 years since I've served as
a clinic escort, so I signed up for the 8:30 - 10 shift.
It is frigid in NYC these days, but I figured I'd be fine since I have
the fires of hell to keep me toasty. Alas, despite my moral failures
(and this is how one of the protesters described it to the cops when
they pulled her aside for following people to the door), I could
barely feel my feet at the end of my shift. I guess the protesters
are made of ice, as they were there before I got there and after I
left.
What really fascinated me, though, is that these protesters used signs
that I remember from my days doing clinic defense as a junior in high
school. I always liked the way a bowl of meat lasagna was crudely
altered to resemble a tiny head, which the sign proclaimed to be a
baby. It used to make me hungry. Turns out it still does. I guess
killing babies really works up my appetite.
--
Sent from my mobile device
Blog: www.cussandotherrants.com
Book: www.offthebeatensubwaytrack.com
I'm going to have to start asking myself the same question each morning. What a great way to start the day.
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