I want to apologize for failing too attend your town hall meeting held here in San Antonio during August. Notice was a little short, but your office kept their promise and called me to let me know when the meeting would be held.  I thank you for that.  Sadly, two things kept me away.  In thinking about it over the last few days, the more tragic it becomes.  At some level, both you and I are at fault.

I'm handicapped, and approaching retirement.  I have difficulty standing for long times and I have a condition called idiopathic neuropathy that, at random times, causes the skin of my lower legs and feet to feel like they've been badly burned.  Trust me, when my feet light up like that, I have nothing else on my mind and I'm afraid I can be most unpleasant to be around during these episodes.  That evening, on the way home from work, the combination of the traffic reports in the area of the meeting and my screaming feet argued strongly in favor of staying home.  The sad thing is that my health issues are precisely why it was so important to me to appear at your meeting and express my opposition to a health plan catastrophe that would rather leave me in agony than allow the free market the incentive to find a cure.  I am terrified of a United States that not only rations health care to its elderly, but prohibits me from seeking care from any source but the one that is refusing to treat me.  Imagine what that would be like, Congressman, to know that whatever dreams you had of a peaceful retirement lived out on funds I worked hard to accumulate, independent and satisfied for a life well-lived are doomed by a government that's lost track of the words in the Constitution.  Fear, pain, suffering without end.  No hope.

I work at a local school district.  I teach math.  I'm told I'm pretty good.  There are at least a few adults out there who've told me they owe their success to me.  I like to think I've contributed, in some small way, to the general well-being of my country.  Like most school districts, the teachers go to about a week of what we call "in service" training prior to the return of the students.  It gives us time to un-pack and prepare our rooms and we get some refreshers on technique and some cheer leading to heighten moral.  Oddly, during our in service training, one of our administrators took time, went out of his way to make sure that we understood that, as teachers, we are held to a higher standard.  Facebook pages and other sorts of personal presences on the Internet should probably be reconsidered lest they prove embarrassing, or be deemed "inappropriate."  Frankly, given my political efforts, my web site and my blog, I felt remarkably intimidated.  Without saying so directly, my manager made it perfectly clear that having my face appear on the evening news would be "A Bad Idea."  No one has tried to restrict my rights.  But I was reminded that sometimes exercising those rights can have consequences.  Nothing serious.  I wouldn't be arrested, or beaten.  But I could lose my job.  Aside from my wife, the most important thing in the world to me is my job.  I love teaching.  I want to do that job until I'm dead or simply can't do it any longer.  So, I chose not to go to your town hall meeting.  I took the coward's way out and chose to protect my job and what's left of my retirement. 

But, I have to wonder how it is that any American, let alone me, is in fear of their livelihood because of their lawful exercise of rights guaranteed by the Constitution. Could it be a result of Joe The Plumber being pilloried for having the temerity to ask then-candidate Obama an awkward question? Or perhaps because the media and Democratic Party's efforts to destroy Mrs. Palin's life and reputation because she has a folksy demeanor and an accent? Or maybe because my President wants his subj... fellow citizens to email his administration when they find something "fishy?" Maybe it's because that same President wants to address every single school age child in school about...something.

So, Congressman Gonzalez, I didn't come to the meeting.  Odds were, I would not have had the opportunity to speak.  Not that anything untoward would have taken place, or been arranged—I'm not making an accusation.  But I didn't come because I'm afraid of dying a helpless ward of the State.  A beggar to a nation I helped educate, whose taxes I paid, whose laws I obeyed. 

You'll vote in favor of the things I fear most.  Perhaps that is the greatest tragedy.  Your words of caring and concern actually promise hell on earth and a loss of freedom all the world will mourn.