I originally wrote and published this to my website blog on January 21st 2017.

Today, however, is the 4th of July. It is Independence Day—only a hop a skip and a jump away (mere weeks) from the Supreme Court removing a "privilege" that should be a "right", and an unalterable one at that.

Independence Day?

I wonder why any of us would want our federal government to morally regulate us?

I spent a great deal of time thinking about the argument for and against the right to have an abortion. But despite all of this, I still come back to the thought of why anyone would want to bestow the federal government with a power that it does not deserve to possess, and never will: the ability to tell you how to live your life.

If we historically look back on the United States government trying to morally regulate us, it has never once succeeded. Prohibition. Prostitution. The War on Drugs. Of those three off the top of my head, how many have succeeded?

It merely turns the federal government and its cohorts into hypocrites, inevitably.

Independence Day.

It can be a lot of things—not just a day to celebrate the independence of a colony from its parent country. It can be whatever we would like for it to be.

Independence from habits that no longer serve us. Independence from whatever we see fit.

As I had mentioned previously, I wrote this and published this approximately 5 years ago:

Every Saturday night, I play a gig at a resort in Carlsbad, CA. The place is called Park Hyatt Aviara Resort. I live in Long Beach, so it normally takes me about an hour or two to get there, depending on traffic, and about an hour on the way back.

I used to listen to music most of the way there. It varies. I normally do some vocal warmups when I'm feeling studious. However, as of late, I've been calling my friends to talk while I drive. It's a great time to catch up with everyone I love.

At any rate, one such conversation with one of my friends brought back a memory from my childhood.

I attended an elementary school in Visalia called Crestwood. I grew up right across the street from that school, which was pretty cool. It was a giant playground right across from my house, so it was the perfect place to meet people and to engage in things to do. Play basketball. Play baseball. Just play. I really enjoyed playing sports growing up. I dreamed of being a professional athlete for a small stint.

I was a very shy kid. In some regards, I still am. I try to get myself out of my comfort zone as much as possible, but, it's a constant effort to break out of that mold. Perhaps you can relate. Perhaps not.

I spent much of 5th grade and 6th grade recess playing football with my classmates. I made what I thought at the time, were friends, participating in this daily activity. It was fun. I continued my efforts to reach out to some of these individuals, through extra curricular activities like Boy Scouts of America. I enjoyed it very much, because it helped me to meet people and get out of my shell a bit, and I learned about survival and the wilderness.

However, I made a mistake, as we all do, one day. I upset my father with this mistake, and as punishment, he forced me to quit Boy Scouts of America. The mistake I made was contrary to the code of conduct and ethics instilled in its participants. Because of this, it affected by ability to further connect with my peers.

A few years later, during junior high, I tried my best to reconnect with one of the kids that I was in Boy Scouts of America with. However, my efforts were met with a lack of enthusiasm. I was bullied by this individual. He took every opportunity possible to try and pick a fight with me. It started as verbal putdowns, and eventually grew into physical engagements such as throwing basketballs at my head during P.E. or a shove to the ground for no reason. I tried my best to not engage in what he wanted, which was a fight. Instead, I just accepted the punishment and ridicule. I didn't want to be hurt, but I certainly didn't want to be his enemy either. I gave up and kept my distance from him, as I assumed that my absence from his life would better suit the both of us, and I was scared of what I might do if I allowed myself to become angry. He was the son of the Cub Scout master I had in elementary school. I wanted to be his friend, but he didn't reciprocate that desire. So, we never became friends.

I went about life. Found things I loved, like music. I would see him from time to time. We would not engage each other, even in junior college.

One day, I was talking to a mutual friend of ours at College of the Sequoias. He asked me why I didn't talk to Paul. I explained to him that my efforts were never reciprocated, and told the story I just told you.

Our mutual friend, as adults typically do, explained to me that Paul had a bit of a rough go growing up. His father was not very kind to him. Paul's father physically and verbally abused him.

I was crushed by this information. As a twenty year old, I looked back on Paul's behavior growing up, and realized that he was in a great deal of pain at that time. It had nothing to do with me.

I remember him calling this beautiful latin girl a "wet back" in one our classes in Junior High—in the middle of class. His targets that he lashed out at, included more people than just myself.

To this day, I can't possibly process all the intricacies of what it is to be a human being—what it is to put yourself in someone else's shoes. I try my best. Any frustration or anger I felt towards Paul, was replaced with anguish and sympathy, and most painfully, empathy, for what he inherited.

I'm thirty seven years old now, driving back from a gig in Carlsbad. Music off. I'm just thinking. Remembering my life. Building a time machine constructed of human experience. This time machine can only travel to where I've been. I travel to my past. I have yet to manifest a future to travel to.

I've made a lot of mistakes that I regret. I wonder how many times I have been the Paul to someone else's life, without even realizing it.

I'm not sure that I will ever see him again. But, should I ever, given the opportunity, I would love to get to know you. Wherever you are, wherever the journey in life has taken you, I hope this finds you happy and well. You deserve it. We all do. The future is what we make of it.