"Fall Off the Perch"

I have written before that I have for decades had the feeling that I would die in the “dead” of winter. And, if I make it to spring, then I have some time to play. Well, today I planted potatoes, weeded the cabbages, watered the orchids and did it in shorts and a tee shirt. I have this feeling that I’m good for another 6-10 months at least.
I wonder where those feelings come from. Sometimes I sense real doom just around the corner, and wait, or look, and it isn’t there. I heard Sally Mann the other day talking about her husband and his muscular dystrophy and how it is progressing. They both affirmed that they didn’t want to know the details of when it would get near terminal. She said she would rather that he “just falls off the perch.” I love that. So would I. Rather just fall off the perch I mean. But my Sally wants some time to get used to it, and so do I if she is the one that falls first. Trouble is you can’t have it both ways mostly. I’m getting too old and cantankerous without being sick and I can’t imagine me being this way and suffering a long slide to the end. So I vote for a modified falling off the perch. Maybe a week of quiet sliding, sign some papers, some murmured nothings, time for family to gather to party, then fall, baby, fall.
Now that sounds like a plan. And it includes time for a few more IPAs.
Image: http://abstract.desktopnexus.com/wallpaper/45841/

Revolution Any One?

The news from Libya and Bahrain continues to be bad and good. Bad because protesters are still on the streets and being killed by their governments, and good because they are still protesting for more freedom. These people, mostly young but not all, are putting their lives on the line for an idea. I cannot express my admiration strongly enough, and my sadness for their losses.
Wisconsin is dealing with another kind of criminal leader. This is a Governor who is attempting to gut the unions of the state by voiding the collective bargaining contracts unilaterally. People there are protesting in the streets. Dying for your freedom and protesting for your rights are different in intensity, but not in character. In both cases despotic rulers have overstepped and need to be corrected somehow.
In America we can protest without fear of death or injury, usually. We can also vote out the offending politicians and vote in new ones. Not always better, but at least we can vote. In many places in the Arab world there is no alternative but the street and armed confrontation.
Killing your own people leads to revolution.
Unilaterally killing contract obligations can also lead to revolution.
Revolution any one?
Image:http://www.prwatch.org/news/2011/02/9944/live-reporting-wisconsin-protests

Frank Morris and Stanley Nelson

A black man killed, burned to death in his shoe shop in 1964 by the KKK and a white man from the town where he died. If you haven’t heard of either, read the link. There is so much to learn from these men and their stories , and the little essays I write can’t do the job for you. In a nutshell here is what happened:
Frank Morris (wearing hat in photo) was a black shoe repairman living and working in Ferriday Louisiana and was killed in a fire started by KKK members. He was burned out because he had white patrons who respected him. The investigations at the time went nowhere and became a “cold case”. Stanley Nelson, editor of the small town weekly the Concordia Sentinel broke the story in January. The story? That the KKK member that was part of the gang that started the fire was alive and never charged with the crime.
Two heroes uncovered here: Frank Morris for being a black man in the South and daring to have white customers. A man of high principles, a father, husband, church goer. A threat to the bigots of the times; Stanley Morris for being a white man having the courage to pursue the story in the community where the killing occurred.
This is what courage and a free press is all about. If you get a minute, go to the Sentinel website and send Stanley a note of appreciation for his courage to face the community, the families and the killers and standing up. But don’t ever forget that there are two heroes here. Frank Morris and Stanley Nelson. Hey Obama, how about Freedom medals for these Americans?
Image (Morris): http://www.cnycentral.com/news/photos.aspx?id=566371
Image (Nelson): http://blogs.clarionledger.com/jmitchell/files/2011/01/nelson_stanleyBW_150.jpg
Background information at the Concordia Sentinel: http://www.concordiasentinel.com/news.php?category=9

Got Guilt?

Well, there I was, sitting at the kitchen table looking out the two picture windows at dozens of birds feeding, several squirrels eating leftover seeds and chasing each other, and two lazy dogs asleep in the sun. Supper was ready to go. All was right with the world. Except.
I have learned to be wary of the word - - but - - or - -except - - or - - unless - - and other such qualifiers. They often are placed to either refute what just was said such as “All prisoners will be released - -Except - - you” or dramatically change the direction of the conversation such as “Of course you can go out for a couple of beers with the boys - - but - - don’t expect me to be here when you get back.”* So when the word “except” creeps into a story it usually signals a problem. And indeed there was a problem on that otherwise calm and beautiful afternoon.
Guilt. Just plain GUILT! Crap! Here I am retired, sort of. Working, sometimes. Playing, sometimes. So why should I feel guilty for sitting on my ass and enjoying the birds? Simple answer is “I shouldn’t.” That intellectual approach is really useless in this instance. And I think I know why. My mother was a lapsed Catholic who always felt guilty about it and that probably changed her genes thus giving me some “guilty” genes. I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood with Jewish mothers always somewhere nearby making me and my friends feel guilty about something all the time. “Well, I waited for you boys to come here after school for a snack. I guess you went to (fill in the name) instead. Sigh” or some such thing.
And at least two other guilt producing circumstances: Sally works hard all day and I don’t, and I was born with a penis (making me a male and thus guilty by birth.) Well screw guilt. I am going to go have a sit and a read. Right after I plant the potatoes and finish the dishes.

*(Let the record show this phrase doesn't relate to any current relationships.)

Image: http://www.psychologytoday.com/files/u506/guilt_got-guilt-button.jpg

Islamic Revolution: A Lie for the People

Ask any young Persian and you most likely will hear the same thing: Protest at your Peril. Killings, torture, long jail terms, severe beatings and rapes all are used by the Iranian Government on its own citizens to keep them from expressing themselves in public. Peoples Revolution my ass. The radical Islamists in power are as corrupt and morally bankrupt as any dictator has ever been.
Praising the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt as “a triumph of popular support for Islam in the Arab world” the leaders in Iran now deny their own citizens the same right to protest. If there was ever a time to put pressure on the Fundamentalist Islamists it is now, when the peaceful protesters from Egypt and Tunisia set the standard.
Mohammed, blessed be his name, would be ashamed. And pissed off too. Wouldn’t it be really cool if Jesus and Mohammed got together and put a stop to the insanity of killing, raping and maiming in their names? Don’t hold your breath. This is something we have to do for ourselves. Time for the President to grow some balls.
Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/15/world/middleeast/15iran.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha2
Image: http://www.dipity.com

Cynical? Just Look in Their Eyes.

Heard a piece on NPR coming home tonight about the impact of the Egyptian uprising on the rest of the world. I thought “Yeah, I know. More uprisings and KABOOM, up goes the Middle East.” Not so said the voice of reason. This was a peaceful operation from start to (current) finish. No bombers blowing themselves up. No riot police storming the crowds and spraying bullets all over the place. Just hundreds of thousands of mostly young people standing around and demanding an end to tyranny. Then it hit me. Young people. Lifetimes ahead. Optimism in the face of the “Pharaoh.” And it may spread in the weeks and months ahead to many other countries. Hell, I thought, we started that way ourselves.
So I am forced to take off my cynic’s hat for a few moments and see through the eyes of the youth of Egypt. And I like what I see. But, and there is always a “but” for a cynic, there are still dangerous days ahead, and there are still eighty million Egyptians to feed and get work for, and there is still an Islamic presence that is a wild card.
Still ----- What the Hell ------ go for it Woody. Right now it looks good and hopeful. And I am hopeful for them.
Still - - - - -
Image: www. onemillionpeacesigns.blogspot.com

Who is Laughing Now?

You can see from the picture how dorky the plastic sun shields look when hung from glasses. In the old days in Miami my buddies and I laughed out loud when some jerk showed up at the beach or on the fishing pier with one of those hung over his (her) nose. Or the equally stupid looking moron with white goo, zinc oxide, smeared all over his (her) nose.
“Ha!” we would say and make snide remarks about their manhood (personhood?). “That crap just gets in the way, and anyway, my nose is nice and tan.”
Yeah, and now, 5 decades later, my nose is once again having precancerous nasties removed. This time I am slathering white goo (Efudex) all over it. At least it soaks in so it doesn’t look dorky (some things and people never change, do they?). But it hurts like hell, and the skin is leaking some fluid, and it looks like Rudolf after a night of bar-hopping. One can imagine some fair-skinned person passing one in the mall or on the street thinking “I remember that dork. He used to fish without nose protection. Glad I didn’t.”
So who is laughing now? Damn sure not me.

Image of Dork: www.sungrubbies.com

Image of Dork with Chicks: www.life.com

Drugged, raped, and pregnant?

“Drugged, raped, and pregnant? Too bad. Republicans are pushing to limit rape and incest cases eligible for government abortion funding.”(1)
Republicans in the House have announced an all-out war on abortion. They are making good on the promise to the Christian Conservative Right with the “"No Taxpayer Funding for Abortion Act," which contains provisions to drastically redefine the definition of rape for the purposes of abortion. They want only situations where “forcible rape”, that is rape where a woman is physically forced to submit, to count as rape. Credible threats don’t count; threats of injury to others don’t count; statutory rape doesn’t count; incestuous rape doesn’t count; rape of drugged or intoxicated persons doesn’t count. Only if someone beats the crap out of a woman or puts a gun to her head will the Act possibly permit federal resources to pay for an abortion.
This is basically solving a problem by definition. For example, suppose instead of allowing African-Americans equal rights as in the Brown vs. Board of Education ruling, the legislature passed a constitutional amendment that simply put AMs out of the human race, and then passed the “Equal Education for all Human Being Act”? Problem solved by definition. Does this idea piss you off? Offended by the example? Me too. And I am offended as hell by another thinly veiled attempt by MEN to limit the health choices of WOMEN. What do you wait for? The males in the legislature to pass the “Housewife Mandatory Work Act” or the “Women Only Get Minimum Wage Act”?
Women are getting screwed and getting pregnant by MEN, again, and those same men want to control every aspect of women’s lives. Sounds dangerously like Sharia Law with a Hijab.
1. Source: http://motherjones.com/politics/2011/01/republican-plan-redefine-rape-abortion
Image: blogs.creativeloafing.com

The REAL Wilson has been FOUND!!

We all remember the discovery of Wilson, his invaluable companionship and council and we all remember the heart-breaking moment when he floated away into oblivion in the Pacific Ocean. Be of good cheer. Wilson didn’t deflate and sink into the cold dark depths. He went on a journey of discovery, and what a journey it was!
From the undisclosed location in the Pacific he made it to the Indian Ocean, around the southern tip of Africa, and up the east coast to the equator. There, he traveled through the Caribbean into the Gulf of Mexico, through the Straits of Florida and north in the Gulf Stream. He turned south off the coast of Scotland, sailed on to the Bay of Biscay and finally into the Mediterranean.
After several months of bobbing in a general north eastward direction he came to the mouth of the Arno River. Here one of the greatest feats of navigation of all times occurred. Taking advantage of the small but persistent eddy currents that move upstream, Wilson floated hundreds of miles inland to Florence, where I spotted him playing is a pool just below the dam near the Ponte Vecchio.
The reason for this long and harrowing trip is clear: Wilson is an Italian from Firenze and just wanted to get home. When we shouted “Look!! There’s Wilson!! Welcome Home!!” he spun with joy and bounced off a log with a playful twist.
And now you know the rest of the story.
Image: http://tierneylab.blogs.nytimes.com

“SUNNY”

Some people naturally view the world through the pessimistic viewer and some through the optimistic viewer. I am in the former camp. And I think there are good reasons to be watchful for problems and prepare if possible for outcomes caused by situations “going South”. Plan ahead for hurricanes or hope they don’t hit? Use side mirrors and look for cars on side streets or just hope nobody does anything wrong or stupid? Get medical checkups or just hope you stay healthy?
You get the message. This kind of view, when expanded to a world view can lead to an incessant drumbeat of warning and worry (why worry if you can’t do anything?). And this in turn can drown out the sunny side of life or shove the good times so far back that they remain unremembered. Well partner, don’t do it. No matter how situations may appear, there will be bright spots somewhere. Bobby Hebb reminded me of that yesterday on WQTL, Q-106.1 with his wonderful rendition of “Sunny”. Stevie Wonder said it using sunshine as a metaphor too.
So yesterday as I was driving home and listening to “Sunny” and thinking about “You are the Sunshine of my life” the Sunshine of my life came into sharp focus. Thank you Sunny, for everything.

Lyrics by Bobby Hebb: http://www.kbapps.com/lyrics/top50/18sunny.html
Lyrics by Stevie Wonder: http://www.romantic-lyrics.com/ly3.shtml
Bobby Hebb: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WwX_DU02aDg&feature=related
Stevie Wonder: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mL_PNNr_NgU&feature=fvw