Health Care Providers: They're Like Servers Who Bring You Everything On The Menu...Whether You Want It Or Not

I've been blogging at Silicon Valley Moms about the importance of the health care reform debate (click here to read the post). And I'm on a letter-writing campaign to remind every one of our U.S. Senators to vote for those pieces of legislation that protect the health of American women. Along the way, I came across Senator Maria Cantwell's excellent speech to the Senate Finance Committee about controlling the runaway costs of medical coverage. (For those who don't know this, the Finance Committee is holding the reins of this health care horse--they have all the power.) In the video posted below, Sen. Cantwell (D-WA) likens health care providers to a server in a restaurant who brings every item on the menu to your table, whether you've asked for it or not and whether you can consume it or not. And, I would add, whether you can afford it, or not. She makes a powerful point that driving costs down should be an essential part of any health care reform legislation.

Mom Rant: "I’m tired of taking care of your kid!"

On Sunday, July 12th, 3-year old Demetrius Jones disappeared. He was in the care of his grandparents when he wandered off, riding his electric toy car, and ended up in the nearby river.

Any parent’s nightmare.

Thankfully, he was found two hours later by a group of fellow campers on the lookout for him, kneeling on all fours atop his overturned car, which was lodged near the river bank in nine feet of water. He was sunburned, but alive.

This incident underscores something that’s bothered me for a very long time: caregivers who don’t pay attention because they think everyone else will.

It came to a head, last week, while visiting family in Los Angeles. My little ones and I were at the neighborhood clubhouse, one afternoon, passing the fifteen-minute adult swim time by sitting in the gated wading pool area. There were a number of small children roughly four and under playing alongside two or three adults. Two of the mothers sat at a table in the shade, completely absorbed in conversation. A three-ring binder lay open in front of them; they appeared to be having some kind of informal, flip-flop-attired meeting. When the time was up, most of the kids walked back to the pool. I noticed as we exited that someone had put a box in the door of the gate. I squinted at it for a second. The two moms at the table were still sitting head-to-head. I let it go.

Seven-year old Boo isn’t a very strong swimmer, so she still needs a grown-up nearby for those frequent panicky moments when she gets tired halfway across. And The Bug won’t even put her face in the water. So my Dad and I each took a kid and paddled around the big pool. Boo and I were hanging onto the edge at about the five-foot mid-point, when I looked up and noticed a tow-headed two-year old with flimsy, inflatable water wings walking confidently toward the deep end. He sat down near the side and started scootching himself to the edge, as if to climb down the swim ladder. There was no other adult within forty feet, on this side.

I swam up to the little guy, knowing my strange presence would be enough to give him pause. “Hey, buddy,” I smiled. “Where’s your mommy?” As most two-year olds would, he sat and stared at me, mute. I looked to my right, where some of the moms from the kiddie pool were splashing with their own gaggle of toddlers. “Excuse me,” I asked the nearest, “but is this your little boy?”

“What? Oh. No, his mom’s in there. Hey Linda! Linda!” she called to one of the women still sitting in the semi-gated area. When one of them looked up, the woman in the pool pointed in my direction. “Is this your son?” I asked. The boy’s mother walked over to the gate and stuck her head out. She was about thirty feet away.

“He’s okay,” she assured me.

“In the deep end?” I asked, incredulous.

“He’s got floaties. He’s fine,” she replied.

Okay. Let’s just suppose this little guy is a great swimmer. But the fact that he’s got water wings on at all makes me think he’s marginal, at best. And let’s just suppose that the woman assumed the bored, squinting, teenage life guard on duty would keep an eye on him. But can we talk for a second about the fact that 1) this woman had no idea where her son was in the first place and had to be shouted at to even look up from her tet-a-tet and 2) the gate to the wading pool was left open and her boy could therefore get out and go ANYWHERE? (Please note that the main gate was also being held open by a Nerf football, probably put there by someone who didn’t want to bother with digging out a key, and note also that immediately outside the main gate is a parking lot. Bad combination for small people security.) Not to mention 3) the boy’s mother was obviously expecting the rest of the pool’s occupants to save her urchin, should he get into a danger he shouldn’t have been in to begin with.

“You know that children can still drown with these things on, right?” I point out loudly, waving my hand toward the airy little vinyl pillows encasing his chubby arms. Honestly, I’m surprised they even sell these things, any more. A false sense of security is the last thing a parent needs. She opened her mouth to reply, paused pointedly. “Okay.” She clamped her lips shut and called to her boy, who dutifully came back to the (sort of) gated fold.

My father thought I was out of line. His reaction shocked me, actually, given that he’s seen horrible things happen to children as a result of neglectful parents in his long career as a police officer. I should think that making a statement might make this woman think twice (I hope so, anyway) and might even save that child’s life, in the future. Even the tiniest chance of that happening makes being a jerk worth the social disgrace.

Now, granted, a neighborhood pool is nothing like an open campground with a river nearby. But the point is still the same. Caregivers of any kind need to watch their charges—especially the littlest ones.

I know that there are moments when wee people will wander, despite our best efforts. It’s happened to me and to others I know. The key is that we make the best possible effort to prevent it. But for an adult to willingly ignore a toddler and allow him to swim, unsupervised, in the deep end of a swimming pool? Worse yet, to not even know that he’s doing it? That pisses me off to no end.

Why? Because I’m the hyper-vigilant mom who watches and worries. I can’t relax at all when kids are near any potential dangers because you just never know when something might happen. As a kid, I once saved a baby from drowning when he walked off the pool steps in the shallow end, right under his chatting parents’ noses. I was the only one who saw him do it and I was halfway across the yard. It wasn't until I jumped in the pool, half-clothed and shouting, that anyone noticed what had happened.

I was big sister to a little brother who I swear had a death wish from the time he pulled himself up on two feet. Now that I’m a grown-up, I would love to chill out like the other adults around the camp fire. But I CAN’T. Because stuff like that happens all the time.

I don’t mind watching out for other peoples’ kids. What irks me is when they EXPECT me to do it, without asking, and therefore feel okay with doing whatever suits their selfish little hearts while their kids wander around, unsupervised.

I don’t intend to keep my own kids in a rubber room for the rest of their lives. They’ll have to experience things, fall down and scrape knees, maybe even break bones. But when it happens, it won’t be because I didn’t try to do my job, the only job any parent truly can be held to: helping my kids survive into healthy adulthood. It truly makes me want to vomit, to tear my hair out, to weep uncontrollably when a child is killed or maimed because of the egocentricity of those responsible for their care.

So to all of those selfish, irresponsible parents and caregivers out there: Please, do your job.

Because the watchful parents, the lifeguards, the police officers, the fire fighters, the paramedics, the social workers—you name it—we’re all tired of doing it for you.

Photo credit: Adam Reaburn www.energeticcity.ca

Iran Just Won't Give Up

Since the day the protests began in Tehran, I'd been following a lot of the #iranelection info zizzing around inside Twitter, checking up on trusted blog posts, and watching videos. But recently, I've missed a few days worth of Twitter feeds (kids on summer vacation needing more attention and spending time with family who do NOT get the social media craze were big factors). Now I'm getting caught up. So I wanted to share with you some quotes, as well as one new blog site I've found.

Last Friday's prayers were historic, in many ways. It was the first time since the election that Hashemi Rafsanjani has spoken at length, publicly, about what's been happening in his country. A former President himself, and a man with a lot of clout, as a result of his role in the 1979 Revolution that overthrew the Shah of Iran and established the current government, rumors had been flying around for weeks about his involvement in support of the protesters from behind the scenes. There were high hopes for his sermon on Friday. Perhaps too high, for some of the protesters. In case you hadn't heard, the government made its expectations of Rafasanji abundantly clear by arresting his family immediately after the protests began. Most reports from eye-witnesses in Tehran on Friday were willing to acknowledge that outright condemnation of the government would have been political (and perhaps literal) suicide.

Where he put his weight was in his silences. By NOT upbraiding the government directly, by NOT mentioning Supreme Leader Khamenei or President Ahmadinejad at all (which, apparently, is unheard of in Friday prayers), he spoke volumes. And judging by the tenor of high emotional intensity exhibited in online accounts, his listeners heard every tacit word.

I'll start by sharing with you a post from a young woman who calls herself "Pedestrian". (I won't tell you her age--read her bio on the "About" page of the site. A helluva writer, she is.) She posted her reaction and a general translation of Rafsanjani's sermon. Be sure to bookmark her home page and come back for more.

YouTube has videos of the speech itself--you can find them linked on this blog, where blog author, Naj, has posted translations to the last three segments of the speech, so far.

From reading through portions of Tehran Bureau's website, I've taken some selected cuts of quotes from eyewitnesses on Friday:

After the sermon, we got up to pray. And we suddenly noticed how cozy everyone had become [Many leading clerics believe that men and women should not stand side to side when praying... But today, they were praying next to each other which is unprecedented].

After the prayer we got up to leave, but we were being instructed to chant Death to America. We would answer back with Death to Russia. He would want us to say the blood in our veins is a gift to our leader, but we would say the blood in our veins is a gift to our nation.

We were walking happily along until we reached 16th of Azar Street. We could see armed men standing behind the gates of the University of Tehran. The guy beside us kept saying: “Do you know what will happen if these guys are ordered to come out?” We finally agreed to let him take us out of the crowd. We were happily leaving when we saw a HUMONGOUS crowd run our way. People were scrambling to escape. When I spoke to one person later, when he had calmed down, he just kept saying: “Whatever that was, it wasn’t tear gas. My entire body is burning.”

*****

There was violence today, but not as bad as the previous demonstrations. People were bruised and beaten, but not as many and not as severely.

We were getting up to leave the prayer, when we saw a truck coming our way from the distance. We could makae out a dozen or so militias in black uniforms in the back of the truck. Someone yelled: “don’t get up! sit!” We sat, frightened, as there were only 30 or 40 people and the truck was getting closer. Suddenly, people around us all ran to our side. They all sat down. We were at least a few hundred now. The truck backed up and left.

*****

Since people couldn’t break out into chants in front of the thug squads, they had to resort to codified slogans. “Marg bar Diktator” (”Death to the Dictator”) alternated with “Marg bar Russiye” (”Death to Russia”) — this was a sly jab at Ahmadinejad-Khamenei due to their alleged alliance with Russia in orchestrating the vote coup (Medvedev had promptly congratulated the fraudulent win and welcomed Ahmadinejad to a regional summit after the elections; Russia is widely believed to give behind-the-scenes support to Ahmadinejad’s government, bypassing sanctions, selling arms, helping build the nuclear plant in Bushehr, etc.)

The day was scorching hot and I heard fellow Mousavites saying that just by being present on the streets, we oblige security forces to stand for hours in the hot sun in their heavy uniforms, helmets, vests, masks … the best revenge we can muster nonviolently!

I hope, if you're able, that you'll follow these events, too, and share any great resources you find. Though events could still move either way, the tide seems to be shifting and the swell change promises to be as tragic as Tienanmen Square or as inspiring as the fall of the Berlin Wall.

I wish with all my heart for the latter.

Holy Air-Quality, Batman! Scottish Government Vehicles To Go 95% Carbon-Neutral By 2010!

The Electric Smart Car

Because I like to get an outside perspective on the news of the world, I've lately taken to following the headlines of foreign news agencies on Twitter, especially the BBC World News. I highly recommend getting a broader perspective. This is, of course, even more important for teaching my World Regional Geography class, this upcoming semester (that is, as long as it isn't cancelled due to the 30%+ budget cuts of this year).

The Scotsman, the national newspaper of Scotland, recently published a piece titled: "Scots vehicles to go electric in next ten years, vow ministers". David Maddox, Scottish Political Correspondent, described an "ambitious plan by the Scottish Government to make 95 per cent of vehicles low-carbon" by 2010--a target the U.S. could only dream of. (Read the full article here.) Although rapidly acting on a carbon emission reduction of 42% by 2020 that was recently passed by Members of Scottish Parliament, the new plan "has been met with scepticism by [both] drivers' organisations and environmental groups."

But, I'd rush to add, at least they're DOING something.

(Think we should we wait to see what happens before we act? I refer you to the following video for a thorough analysis of that mindset.)

The comments section of online articles can occasionally present valuable criticisms and observations beyond the scope of the original article itself. This is one such piece. I'd like to quote the user KampungHighlander, of Jakarta, who responded to fellow commenter drunken proffet's call for hydrogen power, rather than electricity:

Drunken Proffet [wrote]: "Well you could use hydrogen to power your cars."

Unfortunately Hydrogen has hit a few technical bottle necks that has seen most major Auto Manufacturers opt for Lithium Ion Batteries as the technology of choice.

The major stumbling block is that the amount of electricity to separate Hydrogen from the Oxygen molecules in water requires a lot more energy than you what you get by recombining the two in a fuel cell.

Lithium Ion on the other hand has had a couple of technical breakthroughs such as increasing the life cycle to 50,000 charges and discharges and the newest batteries can be fully charged in as little as five minutes.

The arguments about infrastructure are a bit silly considering that establishing a recharge point costs about £200 and that most roads already have an available source of electricity. It is not nearly as difficult as it was to establish the infrastructure we currently have for liquid fuels.

Studies done in the US even show that it would actually save Electric utilities money to store surplus power in a grid of EV's rather than rely on expensive standby power. With Scotland becoming a large producer of intermittent Wind Power this will only become more important.

Ultimately what will drive peoples buying decisions will be cost, so [as long] as petrol remains the more expensive alternative people will switch to electric vehicles. Other incentives such as exempting electric vehicles from VAT or allocating the best parking spaces to EV's could also be offered to speed up adoption.

Some other points to consider:

1. Where will the energy come from for electric cars? (Not coal-fired power plants, I hope!)
2. How much will the infrastructure for recharge points cost? Who will be in charge of them?
3. Can we really make them cost effective?
4. Can car manufacturers make electric SUVs and powerful trucks for the Super-Size Me American???

There are countless other questions yet to arise, I have no doubt. This is more than the simple issue it's often painted to be and I'd like to see more discussion on the issue. This coming fall, I'll be putting the matter before my students to see what they come up with--quite often they amaze me with their insightful queries and commentary. With increasing committments for sustainable energy and reduced carbon emissions, both in and out of the political arena, the end of the year promises to be interesting, at best.

Yes, I'll be watching the news...

Garden of Friendship

Looking around at the faces of your friends,
I see so many blooms
in the flower garden of your years spent
tilling and sowing this Earth.

It’s a vast garden
with plants of all sorts:
some are annual, seen but once a year;
some perennial, beautiful and close, year-round;
some are trees that blossom and bear fruit
then sleep, dormant, in winter,
but always with dreams and thoughts of you
not far off in spring.

Some flowers begin as unexpected weeds,
a nuisance, a thorn bush,
that suddenly reveals itself
a new species of rose
heretofore unknown, even to itself;
a treasure unpredicted,
but no less a valuable addition to the sights along your path.

Some flowers will scatter their seeds to the winds,
far beyond the walls you’ve built for yourself
and the plant you knew will die;
all you have to do is open the garden gate
into the unknown
to find it again.

Some flowers look good at the table;
some complement your hair, your clothes, your eyes;
some are tall, dominating the borders of your life;
some are small, almost unnoticed near your feet;
some just listen, swaying gently,
when you have something to get off your chest.

Talking to flowers makes them grow stronger:
you share your breath
and they thrive
giving to you the sweet oxygen
you need to survive.

Remember always that these gardens overlap,
that as each of us lies within you
in varying capacities, hues, and shapes,
so too, you lie within our imagined boundaries.
And our gardens are mightier than so many
for having been inspired by your growth,
graced by your beauty,
and enhanced by the seeds
you have sown within each of us.

May this, your latest year of so many springs past,
be your best ever, spurring each of us on to new heights
by sharing the life-giving air you exhale
with every word,
every smile,
every moment of your amazing existence
in this flower-filled world we share.

Angela Orr also posts at: Silicon Valley Mom's Blog and From Basic Training To Black Sash: A Mother's Wing Chun Journey. She can be followed on Twitter: @AngelOrr

Is The Iranian Vote "Meaningless" Afterall?

Like thousands of others, I've been following the situation in Iran all week. This morning I posted on the subject on the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog site, here. The first comment I received noted the irony of Americans giving up their freedoms in the name of security, while Iranians, who have little true security to begin with, are willing to face repurcussions in the name of having a nearly "meaningless" vote (her words) counted by the ayatollahs who will ultimately do as they please, anyway.

In trying to formulate a response, the first analogous image that came to mind was the Amazon rainforest. And do you know the fastest way to destroy a pristine environment such as the Amazon? Build a road through it.

Once people learn what democracy is all about, it becomes harder and harder to keep them from driving across that newly-paved road, claiming the land on either side, building homes and businesses, and creating physical, social, and cultural environments that never before existed in that place.

Asking for what you want, even if there's little chance you'll get it, is never meaningless. That's like saying a prayer is pointless. Even if you're not prone to religiosity, you might consider the fact that prayers, wishes, and meditations all focus our energies toward a goal. That focus can alone bring about changes. Maybe small ones, at first. But sometimes that's all it takes to move forward.

Now see in your mind's eye millions of people, every able-bodied person in a large city, filling 6-lane roads from side to side and as far as the eye can see in either direction. If you think the ayatollahs aren't paying attention to those prayers, you're sorely mistaken. Changes have already begun.

Just ask the wiped-out micro-ecosystem of the first tree felled.

Can the original environment be restored, at that point? Perhaps, over time. But only by killing all of the people.

Angela Orr also posts at: Silicon Valley Mom's Blog and From Basic Training To Black Sash: A Mother's Wing Chun Journey. She can also be followed on Twitter: @AngelOrr . For more info from Twitter sources, follow #iranelection.

Photo credits: OLIVIER LABAN/MATTEI/AFP/Getty Images; BEHROUZ MEHRI/AFP/Getty Images

Star Trek and the American Psyche

I love action films. Mostly of the superhero variety. They make me feel powerful, like I could take on the world. Like anything is possible.

At least for the hour or so after watching one.

After finishing finals and getting all of my students' grades in on time, I felt I deserved a little treat, so I took myself to see Star Trek. By the time I left the theater, my can't-get-out-of-its-own-way 4-banger Honda was a bomb of a starship, powering down the onramp of Highway 101 on a Thursday night. Every other car on the road was a chunk of blown-up scrap metal and I was on my way to save the planet from the Romu--I mean...my husband from the kids.

I am, as I write this, listening to the soundtrack. In my room sits a Star Trek poster that, lucky me, was being taken down as I was walking into the theater. Really, I'm no Trekkie. Not that there's anything wrong with being a Trekophile. It's just that I'm into diverse experiences and rarely let myself get tied down to one genre of film, music, sport, or hobby for long. I like to soak it all in. I guess you could say I know just enough about my favorite things to be dangerous.

I'll leave the movie reviews to the experts; there've certainly been enough of those. But, for those of you who wanted to know, yes, I loved it. Yes, I saw it again tonight, when I took my husband for our date night and he loved it. The characterizations were so brilliant that when Karl Urban (who plays Leonard "Bones" McCoy) says, "Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a physicist!" it was like hearing an old inside joke, rather than a cheesy one-liner. Anton Yelchin (the engaging star of the film, Charlie Bartlett), and British comedian/actor Simon Pegg, as Chekov and Scotty, respectfully, were my favorites by far, with their amusing, wide-eyed enthusiasm and excellent reactive timing.

The Cal State Northridge Oviatt Library gets a shout-out, too: it's never looked so good, upgraded as it has been to Starfleet Academy's venerable gateway to the universe (as an alum of CSUN, this was probably the only thing that pulled me out of that delicate suspension of disbelief no filmmaker of good fiction ever wants you to part with).

What I realized as I sat through the end of the credits (yeah, I'm one of those people) was that this movie specifically spoke to the American psyche. It touched on many of things we purport to value: Independence? Check. Strength? Check. Intelligence? Check. Compassion? Check. Loyalty? Check. Freedom? Check.
Cue one slowly-raised eyebrow.

Americans are generally seen as being strongly independent. We certainly don't like being told what to do. Rebellion is our hallmark. Ah-ha, James T. Kirk, right? And yet...in truth Americans are fiercely interdependent, creating families where none exist, emphasizing community, supporting one another. Seriously, why are you even reading this blog to begin with, if not to make a connection or be part of the community of Trek-watchers?

When Americans have trouble making human connections in the world around them, they become depressed, lonely, anxious, even downright crazy. Maybe that's true of humans in general. But we sometimes ignore even this essential element of human nature in our quest to be independent citizens. I talk with my students about this every year during our discussion of the regionalization of popular culture. Americans all strive to be "different", and yet we desperately want to surround ourselves with other people who are different just like us. Because we don't want to be alone.

We admire strength--cage matches, wrestling, superheros. It sets us constantly at war with ourselves: brain vs. brawn. We tend to hate hanging out with people smarter than ourselves, because it makes us feel dumb when we know we're not. (Related fact check: Did you know that we rarely marry outside our I.Q. range?) I've gotten so sick of the "Proud Parent" bumper stickers that I'll cop to having laughed at the one that reads, "My kid could beat up your honors student." On second thought, maybe that's not so funny.

At the same time, we expect our nation's leaders and innovators to be America's "best and brightest" (well...for the most part, anyway). Kirk has always been seen as the classic brawler type and Spock was always the brain. But Kirk was no dummy, either, as this film works hard to emphasize. It isn't just anyone who can outwit the infamously unwinnable Kobayashi-Maru training exercise. And he did manage to surround himself with an exceptionally talented crew. Keeping in mind that this is just a film, it does tell us something about the expectations we have of our heroes. Maybe there's hope for my brainy daughter, yet.

We don't want to hand everything to our young people, though. They have to want it badly enough to overcome challenges--sometimes the kind that can kill you. In your deepest heart-of-hearts, you want to be a risk taker, I bet. (You can nod--no one's looking over your shoulder.) Even if you can't possibly imagine yourself parachuting out of an airplane, you wish you had the guts to do it. And you want to watch someone else try it. (Survivor, anyone?)

We also expect compassion--kindness and mercy shown to those weaker than ourselves. Animals, children, even a tough guy sprawled on the floor in a puddle of his own fluids. When Nero the nasty dude's ship is about to fall into a black hole, Kirk offers to help him out of his moment of peril. Nero's such an ass****, even Spock doesn't want Kirk to offer--but that's what the good guys do, right? Perhaps a bit of the chivalrous ideal has carried through to the 21st Century. But we do wish we didn't have to be so nice, all the time. And quite often we aren't. In real life, we try to show mercy when we can emotionally afford to, but we all have those moments when what has been done to us is more than we can bear and we go a little overboard. It's just part of being human. Or, in Spock's case, half-human.

Different cultures have different ideas about what it takes to overload someone's personal circuits. And for those cultures that don't get our fascination with violence, let me put it to you this way: it's great to let our heroes kick some bad guy ass and just be done with it. These are imaginary people who will never have to face a courtroom, never have to think about the family of the person they're shooting. Real life isn't like the movies. So it's okay with us when the bad dude loses that last sweaty hold on the ledge while the hero watches, unmoving. Nevertheless, I have to admit that this is one area of the American experience that could maybe still use a little tweaking.

Americans value loyalty. The buddies who stick up for one another. The person who won't give up the secret codes. The friends and even enemies who won't leave a team member behind, despite the odds. We respect stepping into the lion's den and putting your life on the line to help another out of danger. The vast majority of Americans deeply admire those who serve in the armed forces--it is the ultimate sacrifice in the name of loyalty to country, kin, and freedom. And we go out of our way to point out these examples of loyalty and celebrate them.

Why? I think it's because human beings are save-our-own-asses creatures. For the average person, "loyal" only goes as far as it serves us to be so. Have you never been disloyal to a co-worker, a friend, or a loved one in the interest of getting what you really want? Don't tell me you've never said, "So-and-so asked me not to say anything, so this doesn't go past this room, but..." Come on. I'll admit it--I stole the guy my best friend was eyeing in high school. And again in college. (Loyalty often takes an especially large, flying leap when our hormones are at stake. Just ask anyone who's ever dealt with the repercussions of an affair.) It makes us feel as though there's hope for our selfish selves when we see others giving so much. Kirk has to enter Nero's ship in order to save his captain from Nero's clutches. If he doesn't go, we couldn't respect him.

Freedom is something we have been fighting for as a nation since Day One. The right to choose our own destinies--to do what we want, when we want, however we want. And yet we give those freedoms up every day. For work. For our own or our children's education. For the basic need to maintain order in the world around us. Often we give up our freedoms in the name of security. Heads-up: terrorists are now using common American surnames as disguises, so even guys like Bob Smith are getting searched at airports. Think about how much control over your life lies in the hands of any company with which you hold a credit card. What would happen if you stopped paying? But just try giving all of your credit cards up. Do you realize how hard it is to live a socially and culturally well-adjusted life without a credit card? Yeah, okay, I know there are thousands of people who live "off the grid". I dare you to try it. Let me know how it works out.

All action films have that "saving the [something or someone]" intensity. These are, in essence, bedtime stories for grown-ups. The best action films, like the best bedtime stories, remind us of what is important, what we should aspire to. Ultimately, this film, and the series that begat it, was about more than independence, strength, intelligence, compassion, loyalty, or freedom. It was about hoping. Hoping there's a better future. Trying to make it so.

And that, right there, is the American psyche at its best.

This is an original post. Not only is she a superhero in training, Angela also writes for the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog, Basic Training To Black Sash: A Mother's Wing Chun Journey, Sundance...Or Bust! and her Twitter followers.

Image created by: Mark Storey Graphic Design & Art. Star Trek movie imagery: Copyright 2009 Paramount Pictures. Star Trek and all related marks and logos are trademarks of CBS Studios Inc. All Rights Reserved by their respective owners.