As I re-read my blog entries, I re-read this passage, saved as a snippet from Sam At The Con, by Samantha K. Please, read this. We need, as a society, courageous people. Not all of them must be firefighters, cops, or medics. We need folks, like that veteran in Oregon, who took 5 bullets, trying to stop that piece of merde shooting up the community college there. We need them, performing CPR on the collapsed civilian, waiting for EMS. We need them, standing up and saying, "No More!" to those who would diminish our liberty.
Thank you. Rant over. (s) Reltney
"What Is Courage?"
(de) Sam at the Con
by Samantha K.
Copyright© 2007 by Samantha K.
Middle of page 3:
The bartender handed me my drink and I took a sip. I'd been drinking mainly fruity drinks during our tropical adventure and this was one of my favorites. If they had a more elaborate setup, I would have asked for a Mai Tai. As it was, this was plenty strong.
"I believe you're right, Sam" he said. "You're very well-read."
He seemed surprised. I decided to push my advantage.
"You mean for a girl, or for a superheroine?"
"For either," he laughed. "Is there a literacy restriction on superheroines?"
"Not that I know of; but then, nobody has asked me to fill out an application."
"So how does one get this sort of job?"
"That's probably the best question I've had yet. The answer is simply 'you go out and do it'."
"Kind of like writing," Mike said. "You just sit down and do it."
"I suppose it is," I said. "Do you write?"
"Some. Nothing published yet. Don't worry, I won't ask you to read it. It's just something I do when things are slow at our bookstore. I don't expect to be able to earn any money from it. If it's not too personal a question, may I ask how one goes about making a living as a superheroine?"
"You mean, do I get paid? Nope. At least, not yet. I may have to hit someone up for a tip, sooner or later. This is actually something my partner and I have talked about. So far, we've been doing this as a sort of hobby. Some people have contributed stuff, but we're not getting paid for this. Were you wondering if I punched a time-clock?"
"Something like that. Fictional characters always seem to be independently wealthy."
"Not me. I'm SuperChurchmouse. We've talked about a rate structure. So much for stopping a crime in progress, much more for rescuing kidnapped heiresses, much less for rescuing kitties up trees. What do you think?"
"It's an interesting problem. Why do you do it?"
There was that question again. I had answered that in various ways ranging from insulting to placating and I still hadn't found anything that would explain how I felt about it.
"Kara," I said, remembering. "Kara Eastman."
"Who's that?" Mike asked.
"A little girl who thinks I'm doing something worthwhile. I've never met her, but it's for her. And all the other little girls who want to grow up and someday make a difference in the world."
"Good answer," Mike said.
I nodded, "Yeah. I like it, too. I'll use that tomorrow during the panel, but forget I mentioned her last name, please."
"Of course. This isn't just a hobby for you, is it?"
"No. It's a calling. If you woke up in the morning and you discovered that you could do all kinds of stuff that few other people could do, what would you do?"
"I don't know. I'd like to think that I would go out and save the world, but I don't know that I have your kind of courage."
He looked so sincere when he said that that I had to believe that he meant it. The poor guy. He didn't have a clue. Courage isn't something you have, it's a way for others to describe what you did after-the-fact. It's a way to say that when the shit hit the fan, you stood up in its path. You peed your panties, but you got to your feet and you dealt with the problem. It doesn't matter if it's charging a machine-gun nest on an enemy-held hill or a hornets' nest over your bedroom window, you got off your ass and you dealt with it. Afterwards, you might feel exhilarated, you might feel proud, but if anyone asks you why, you just say, "It needed doing."
Mike didn't want to hear that. You can't tell someone how to be courageous. You can't train for it. It's just something you do. I understand because I know people who do courageous things, but I don't think I'm one of them.
I got up on tiptoe and I kissed him for thinking I had courage.
He blinked and leaned back, glancing toward the door to see if Deedee had seen. She was his wife, obviously. Single guys look to see if other guys caught the action so they can get a high-five or some such macho thing later. Married guys look to see if they're about to catch hell.