Richard Does It Again!

What might just be the best concert I saw in th last year rolled into the little Mystic Theater in Petaluma Thursday night when Richard Thompson played solo to a packed house.

One of the most amazing moments of the show was when he covered Britney Spears' "Oops I did it again." This clip is from the rendition he did during his "Thousand Years of Popular Music" tour. In one single song he revealed what an incredible story teller and musical interpreter he is. His take on the song flat out made it his own. If you had not previously heard it by Britney it would be impossible to think of it as the goofy pop song she created it to be. In Thompson's gifted hands it transforms into a dark amusement etched with playful evil.

It SOUNDS and FEELS like a Richard Thompson song!

This was just one single small element of a tasty show created by a consummate artist who is completely in command of his instrument, his song writing, and his voice.

Thompson reveals insight, darkness, playfulness, sadness and joy at each moment of the concert. He plays tennis with human light and shadow and in doing so brings to musical fruition a complete sense of what it means to be human.

This is why we live.

60 Years On...

On this anniversary of the International Declaration of Human Rights, Amnesty International's WITNESS program is asking the question , "What image opened your eyes to Human Rights?"

For me, I think it was the images from Susan Meiselas' book on the Nicaraguan revolution. I had already seen other images by that time... mostly images provided by Amnesty International, but it really came home with Nicaragua and those photos; photos of decapitated bodies lying on the side of the road, and women wearing masks to avoid detection, torture and death. They were images that moved me to work to change things in Nicaragua, to go there twice and to try and bring something of the country back with me.

Twenty years ago, it was the variety of images propagated in conjunction with the Amnesty International Concert Tour in recognition and celebration of the 40th anniversary of the DHR. Those images and ideas, contrasted with the vibrant music and immediacy of the moment (and were magnified by the fact that I was newly in love and feeling so deeply that sense of freedom that new love gives you) and in that, the call to DO SOMETHING.

With the approach of this 60th Anniversary I have been feeling driven to find a way to place myself again in the middle of this fight for all. I'm still trying to comprehend what... and how.

What image opened your eyes? What have you done about it?

You can start (or continue) by signing onto the declaration at http://www.everyhumanhasrights.org/. You'll be in good company!

Death By Shopping

In the dark hours of Friday morning, while I was sleeping off my food indulgences of the day before, in the doorway of a WalMart on Long Island, Jdimytai Damour was trampled to death by insane shoppers, desperate to beat one another to the "hottest deals of the season."

I'm working on a piece about this that I'll post on Butting Heads a little bit later, but in the meantime here are some links:

Reverend Billy's Comments

From the NY Times (which you actually have to go through an ad for)

A perspective from across the pond

And a quote from a co-worker... echoing what seems to have become the universal excuse lifted from the speeches of the Pretender In Chief for the last eight years (spoken after 9/11, after Katrina, and after the stock market crash)... “How could you know something like that would happen? No one expected something like that.”

Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuce!

My Lucky Day


That's enough for the second day of Advent. I want to say more, but I won't...
Just watch. And Listen... And...

Wait.

Happy New Year!

On Thanksgiving my sweety and I went to The Parks for Thanksgiving dinner with the widely extended family and it was a great time. From wine and multiple cheeses to pecan pie and champagne (through mushroom stuffing, amazing yams, perfect biscuits and a few small slices of turkey) and on to gratuitous karaoke competitions it was a great great day.

Afterwards we wound up at the Mark Twain Hotel (next door to Glide Memorial) for the night. We had plans to return to Petaluma the next day, but those plans changed.

Friday morning we arose lazily and decided to take a chance at catching the first showing of the day at the Castro Theater where we could see Milk right where the events took place and right on the block where it was filmed (not to mention the neighborhood I was living in during part of that time). After the film, which was beautiful and amazing and the perfect way to begin "Black Friday," we brunched in The Castro and shopped in The Fillmore, winding up in Union Square for a Macy's bacchanal, the Union Square Christmas Tree lighting, drinks and pizza in The Starlight Room and rides up and down (three times!) in the glass elevators at the St. Francis.

It was a great day!

We decided to spend another night.

On Saturday, we moved lazily through the day and wound up eventually at Grace Cathedral where we walked the Labyrinth.

It wasn't until this point that it even dawned on me that it was the Saturday before Advent... a sort of ecclesiastical New Year's Eve.

Walking the circuit inside the big cave of that cathedral, I was, even more than usual, taken with the sense that I was leaving one year behind and moving into another phase of my life. Every time I walk the labyrinth it's a completely different experience; that's one of the things I most like about it. This time I was introducing someone else to this part of my life (something I've never really done before) while at the same time experiencing everything in the weekend as its own gestalt.

Each piece held a magic, as if this place and this time and the newness of what is to come were telescoped into this singular segment of reality where all my life leading up to now was brought together on this one weekend.

Advent.

What Do YOU See?

I found this picture on another blog and it completely blew me away (and wrecked my otherwise relatively efficient time usage for the morning). The original article for it is here and I hope it screws with you as much as it does me.

When I first looked at the picture I had it going clockwise, which is supposed to represent thinking with the right hemisphere of your brain. But then... when I start reading (a more left brained task) it switches to the counter-clockwise motion. After some practice (closing my eyes, relaxing my neck, wiggling my right and then my left hand) I can pretty much make it go whatever direction I want.

Now I'm obsessing... I wonder which hemisphere that uses. I'm also wondering what might happen with a male silhouette.... Hmmm?

Unsubscribe Me!

In one of those classic moments of the internets I found the video above quite by accident, but it moved me to act.

The video is produced by a group with whom I had a long and active involvement a long time ago, but which I have in recent years allowed to largely slip off my radar.

The ability to transform an ugly, evil act into a life affirming piece of art and to do it for the purpose of changing the world is truly an amazing accomplishment. Despite the election of Barrack... this remains an important issue, and AI remains a vitally important organization worldwide.

Please view this video (it's astonishing when played full screen), sign up, then pass it on.

The Other Guy Counts Too!

Last night's commentary by Keith Olberman was first brought to my attention via Twitter when I got a "tweet" from inlookout about the commentary. When I turned on my computer this morning I immediately downloaded last night's Countdown podcast from iTunes, opened it and fast forwarded to the end.

I have been mulling over some kind of response to the issue of prop 8 in California since it first appeared on the ballot, and I have yet to come to terms with the wording to explain how I feel. I have started an attempt at formulating those feelings at Butting Heads, so please go there and check it out as well.
--
P.S. There's also a new Veteran's Day blog at http://washingtonscousin.blogspot.com.
But first... give Keith another listen... It's worth your time.

It's Morning In America

I woke up this morning with those four words in my heart and the image of that old Ronald Reagan commercial unfortunately in my brain.

I thought about it... smiled... and dismissed the image, because as much as I love the sentiment, I did not want to despoil this extremely energizing, enlivening moment with old words and concepts that I feel have brought us (over the last 28 years) to our collective national knees, begging and scraping along ground that we should be able to walk upon with grace, and strength, and heart, and pride.

The reaction is also why I chose not to link to that old commercial, as I would normally do under such circumstances. I am done with that crap! My entire adult life has been colored with the residue of destruction that began with Reagan and ended last Tuesday night (it actually began with Richard Nixon when I was 14 years old, but that's for some other blog on some other day).

But then... I got up... I turned on my computer and I found this piece by Eugene Robinson (one of my favorite commentators, with whom I happen to share my middle name).

It IS Morning in America, and I, for one, am ready to rise!

I Rise!

I love... truly love... Dr. Maya Angelou. This piece from the CBS morning show features her poem "I Rise" at the end of a terrific reflection on the meaning of the events of last week.

It's nearly eight minutes long (Dr. Angelou comes on about half way in)... and it's worth taking the time to visit.

Thanks to Engima4ever for bringing this clip to my attention. On her blog she has also placed a link to the letter Alice Walker (another of my great loves and deepest sheroes) wrote to the President Elect. It too is awesome and lovely and worth the time it takes to read.

What a great moment in time! THIS is what it feels like to be alive.

Gimme Rhythm... Gimme Rhythm!

COWBOY MOUTH is comin' to Petaluma tonight! This New Orleans Rock and Roll band is not only a bunch of folks that I have loved since the very first time I heard them, they are the band that brought me though the sadness, struggle, lostness and turmoil of post-Katrina living with songs like Home and Avenue.

Now... with a new album called Fearless... they're coming to this current Home of mine with new music like I Believe and a rip roaring show that I am insanely excited about.

I'm feeling like a kid in a candy store.. and it seems to me that's exactly how Cowboy Mouth would like me to feel... because I AM glad to be ALIVE.

---

They play San Francisco's Slims tomorrow night... so hey... GO!

The World Has Truly Changed!

Sweet Release!

I had nothing on this blog yesterday to celebrate the transformation of everything we know because I woke up yesterday morning with some strange illness that barely even let me lift my head up from the pillow. Increasingly, over the last eight years, and most especially over the last several weeks, I've been holding my hopes, dreams, longings, and desires like holding my breath to duck dive under Ocean Beach waves. When the polls in California closed Tuesday night, I knew we - as individuals, as people, as a nation - had indeed overcome.

Underneath it all, I think my body knew that, for the moment at least, it could rest.... by Wednesday morning it had collapsed.

I lay in bed all day listening to the radio, attempting to watch television, falling asleep, waking up, strangely disconnected and constantly weeping.

What an amazing moment. What a wonderful day.

Say it IS so Joe!!!

I started baseball season this year with my first opening day with Joe Blanton pitching (but of course not hitting) for the American League Oakland As.

I got the chance to see him pitch one other time before he got sent to the (NAtional League) Philadelphia Phillies, and when they made it to the World Series with him pitching... well, despite the fact that everyone else I know is rooting for Tampa Bay... I just had to go with my guy!

To be honest though... I also have a hard time - the pirate or no pirate - rooting for anything from Tampa Bay! Besides... my mom was born in Philadelphia so I've got plenty of cred here.

Last night... as Karen and I were just getting home from a day of gorgeous fall weather, good eats, and soft leisurely time, we turned on the TV just as Joe was stepping up to bat.

To everyone's surprise, he whacks that baby outta the park!

His first major league home run (his career batting record includes 33 at-bats, 22 strikeouts and just two hits, both singles) turns out to be the first world series home run from a pitcher in 34 years! Even Karen, who's busy rooting for TB, had to give him his props!

Then of course, the Phillies (led out in pitching by Good Ol' Joe) went on to clobber The Rays 10 - 2.

Now THAT was the way to end my first real season as a baseball fan.

THIS is MY President!

I am perpetually challenged for the fact that I wear flip flops (or "go aheads" or whatever else you wanna call them) pretty much all year round.

I grew up in Florida and Arizona... and I live in California... They ARE my footwear.

Barrack's from Hawaii and he's got the right shoes on his feet!

Yes WE Carve!

Gonna have a pumpkin carving on Thursday night and this awfully cool video just came down over the internets to inspire me even more.

You can see more pumpkins and even get stencils at YesWeCarve.com.

JUST BARELY A WEEK TO GO!!!!

CHANGE is coming soon!

Opie We Hardly Knew Ye!

I've been hearing about this for days, but I hadn't seen it until this morning. If this doesn't make you vote for Barack... well... you're just wr.... wr.... wr.... you know.

Miracles... Eventually

A little over a year ago, I wrote a blog about the then new Annie Lennox album "Songs of Mass Destruction." In that blog I mentioned the campaign that she had helped to launch to more fully address AIDS issues in South Africa, and the song that was created as that campaign's theme song.

Despite years of benighted thinking and little action (not too terribly different from the actions of Ronald Reagan's administration twenty years ago), last week a miracle occurred when recently appointed health minister, Barbara Hogan turned South African AIDS policy off it's head and right side up.

Ms. Hogan, who as a South African white woman joined the African National Congress 30 years ago, was arrested, imprisoned and tortured, and has stood up for truth on both sides of the South African color barrier, is someone who shows what it means to be truthful, intentional, and human under some of the most frustrating, discouraging, and inhuman of circumstances.

This is where the world CAN go... Stories like these prove that, despite numbskulls everywhere, humans ARE EVOLVING... WE ARE getting better.

Too Obvious To Comment...

If... like me... you haven't watched this since you were a kid, do yourself a favor and take the eight minutes to do it now.

THE SCUM RISES TO THE TOP

I've been trying very hard for the last several days (ever since the news fast I wrote about last week at 40 Days To Life) to remain upbeat and positive about all the news rampaging through the mediascape. But the last few days have truly been too much to bear.

Yesterday I got very excited about the fact that McCain's direct connection to the Savings and Loan Crisis of the late 80s, and his direct involvement in The Keating 5, finally made some news. The man claiming he has the solution to the banking and securities crisis is one of the central figures that got us here in the first place! I write more about it at George Washington's Cousin so please go there (and send your friends)!

Then... the campaign has decided to raise the spectre of Bill Ayers "the terrorist" as one of Barack's friends and supporters. McCain even had the audacity to get all hot and bothered about Bill Ayers "targeting innocent people." This man, whose much touted time as a POW was caused because he was shot down over North Vietnam doing that very thing... "BOMBING INNOCENT PEOPLE" Not only is the accusation false, deceptive fear mongering, it's also so massively hypocritical I can barely breathe. Most of it is being propagated by little Miss Sunshine, Pentecostal "Christian" Sarah Palin... I'm not sure what she's thinking about Commandment #9 (Exodus 20:1-17) there on that list that she and her Republican friends are always so interested in putting up in governement buildings. "Do not bear false witness" seems pretty damned clear to me! I'm thinking that she should give it some thought.

Funny how the whole bunch can be so worried about OTHER PEOPLE obeying "The Bible" while they choose to play fast and loose with it themselves.

I'm working on a piece about all that and I hope to have it finished before the debate tonight. It will also be at George Washington's Cousin, so please check it out.

I really am seeking a more centered peaceful, loving place... I am really TRYING to "be the change" I want to see in the world, but it's just so damned hard with such complete scumbags trying to take over the country.

O'Boss For Obama!

To my way of thinking, Bruce Springsteen is THE consummate American musical artist of my lifetime. For more than 30 years he has told the particularly American story of Big Dreams met with Big Disappointments, while at the same time showing the possibility of keeping hope, joy, engagement, and rock & roll alive, thriving, and supporting the basic life of that dream and the lives of the people in his stories. He is the second coming of Woody Guthrie AND Johnny Cash, with a little bit of Billy Sunday and George M. Cohen thrown in for good measure.

There are plenty of people who don't share my perspective on The Boss. A lot of people, like Ronald Reagan, have not and do not understand the basic social realities at the root of even his most popular, most anthemic, songs (like Born In The USA).

This weekend, he once again spoke, sang, and showed his true colors at a rally for Barack in Philly.

You can read the text of his speech (before he sings The Rising) here.

Serendipity after Disappointment

So I was reading the usual suspects this morning to see what people thought about the disappointing and worrisome debate last night. Disappointing because it wasn't the blood bath I and a lot of other people had hoped for(even pacifists want blood and circuses sometimes), worrisome because the fact that Palin didn't totally wash out makes me fear she might be taken seriously.

Well... too my surprise, my day was changed by an advertisement. At the side of one of the Palin articles on Huffington Post I saw this interesting little ad for the new movie The Soloist. WIth Jamie Foxx and Robert Downie Jr. I had to click the button (you should too!)

NOW... just because of this brief moment on computer I am sitting here in my apartment with tears on my face and hope for better things in my heart.

That debate last night... doesn't matter. THIS kind of stuff does.

Here's the movie website... the trailer's pretty darn good too.

Happy Birthday Elizabeth

I began this post a couple of weeks ago after I missed the opportunity to attend the ordination to retirement ceremony for one of my best friends. I worked hard on it coming up to yesterday in the hope of getting it up in time for her birthday, but it tends to be one of those writing experiences where despite my desire to be, and my feeling that on a good day I am, "good with words," the words run away from me like a skittish bunny that is unsure of my intentions.

Elizabeth is one of three people I consider my "best" friend. She has been in my life for the last 26 years - nearly half of my life - and despite the fact that I am incredibly inept at being a steadfast and dependable friend to her, she is, and has always been that to me.

We first met, very briefly, in Seattle at a meeting of the Evangelical Women's Caucus when I was both a new seminary graduate and a new father, carting my kid around in a denim blue snuggly (something that I can't even find a Google link to in this age of modern pram/land speed vehicle high end strollers) and smiling in self-congratulatory smugness at my "feminist husband" act. The fact of the matter was that I didn't have a clue what I was doing, with my life, my marriage, my supposed calling, or for that matter, my new baby girl. Elizabeth, and her husband John, on the other hand gave me a sense that maybe there was something more grounded and honest in all this political/ theological posturing. From the very beginning I sensed a centeredness, a humaness, and a genuineness that drew me like a warm fire.

Over the next few years, with their visits to San Francisco and my visits to Los Angeles, we gradually became closer and closer friends. The glow of warmth that emanated from their lives and their home even made me love Los Angeles (a real stretch for an inveterate and unshakable NoCal boy like me). On my first visit to their house I tasted lox and bagels for the first time on a Sunday morning. Lox and bagels remain one of my central food cravings and weekend rituals. I even have fond memories of an afternoon spent in the sunshine with Elizabeth eating ceviche at Gladstones 4 Fish; an afternoon that turned into an evening of food poisoning misery, but which makes me smile now as I write about it.

At the time I thought of myself as a hotshot forward thinking progressive with a tiny little record company that I was hoping to turn into the next Geffen Records, allowing me to make millions of dollars while also changing the world. In reality I was pretty much like I am now: a wild eyed dreamer with little discipline, minimal resources, a whole lot of intellectual chauvinism, and so much hopeful idealism that I should have been given a handicapped pass. Elizabeth, even in the midst of less than fulfilling professional circumstances, was a solid rock and a light hearted fairy who could simultaneously make me laugh and think and hope. She knocked the air out of my windbag bullshit without knocking the hope from my heart in the process. She was serious, and solid, and spiritual, and fun. On several occasions I shared meals, wine and words with Elizabeth and John (and family) and those experiences have forever colored my concept of heaven and my underlying expectations for most other human interactions.

A few years later, when Elizabeth started making regular trips to the Bay Area for work on her Doctorate of Ministry, we each made time to eat well, drink a lot, talk more, and take in the loveliness of living where we live. The only moments in that time of my life that equaled those moments were the times I spent with my daughter. During those years, these were literally my best times; they were, repeatedly, Perfect Moments.

There was a definite sense in which Elizabeth saved my life. In the years since, she has remained an amazing delight at each and every moment. If I catch her note at the end of a blog, or a phone message saying she's coming to town, I am affected with a tunnel vision that momentarily blocks all else from my consciousness.

As I write this now I find myself experiencing those moments again, as if they happened yesterday, or this morning. The memories transform this otherwise mundane moment, and the task of cobbling these words together, into it's own Perfect Moment. I find myself loaded on joy and memory as if on psychedelics carrying me into a place of effervescent time and space. There is a joy in the memories from the last 26 years so solid and bright and real that it forces the majority of my other experiences into the shadows.

I believe that the only way any of us REALLY experiences The God/Goddess is in the body and blood of other human beings. I believe that THIS is the heart of the Christian myth of God and Jesus... A choice by the Divine to BECOME a flesh and blood person; a choice to live with joy and sorrow, abundance and want, pain and ecstasy. I believe there is no other God but us.

Elizabeth IS the face of The God/Goddess to me.

She is also my friend.

Happy (Belated) Birthday E. I am VERY glad you were born.

A Lighter Shade of Pale

McCain dumps on Letterman and Dave returns the favor. This is SO great!

Blast from the recent past...

It's been nearly six months since Jen and Andy got married and their photographer Chung Nguyen has recently put up this little video reminder of what a great day it was.

It makes me smile... it makes me cry... It reminds me of what life is REALLY about.

My Tree... Helen's House

This is the view out one of my apartment windows. It's the largest live oak tree in Petaluma and it (like so many trees in my life during the last three years) serves as a source of spiritual piece and psychological respite. It is also the centerpiece setting for one of the most beautiful historic homes in Petaluma and will be featured in this weekend's Historic Homes Tour.

My little apartment isn't part of the show, and I will likely not be here while the masses tour the beautiful home that I am lucky enough to live so near.

There is a sense that this is a magical house. Helen Putnam was both a council member and a mayor in Petaluma long before that woman from Alaska came along to despoil the image of small town mayors, and she had a love for people and a care for the outdoors that was so deep that this little town has named both a downtown plaza and a beautiful regional park (just up the street and over the hill from me ) after her.

If you click on the above link to the Press Democrat story about the house, you will find a whole collection of photos of the truly lovely renovation job that my landlords and newfound friends have worked for ten years to complete. My little loft apartment is a bit more modest than the grandiosity of Helen's House... but it suits me just fine.

And then of course... there's the tree.

More... More... More

New stuff up this morning at Bleeding Daylight and at 40 Days... Check it out.

More to come, so check back too!

Remember!

There has been so much stupid negativity over the last two weeks (conveniently, ever since the Republcan Convention) and I will admit that I have been a part of it.

But so has Barack and his team. What started, in the primaries, as a call to action and the lead out of an inspirational juggernaut has, in the weeks since his great speech at the convention, turned into standard Democratic rudderless campaign meandering.

NO!!!!! It was the inspiration that moved us. The call to BE a people, not just expect MORE of Government. To Ask Not... but...

We still need THAT inspiration... we still need THAT leader. We still need THAT HOPE.

¡SI SE PUEDE! YES... WE... CAN!

What Would Jesus Do?

This story, my storypeople story of the day, brings up an excellent point.

What WOULD Jesus Do... not just in his circumstances meandering about Palestine 2,000 years ago, but right here today, under THESE circumstances, with THESE conditions, and THIS world? That's a reasonably interesting question. One of the first, and one of my favorite, things I learned in seminary was the principle of reading and grappling with scripture here and now, living with it in present reality and not simply accepting the stories for their ancient, and temporally-bound, content.

When you ask the question what would Jesus (or whomever you choose to emulate) do in my circumstances, you are indeed likely to come up with a new answer like the one posed above. The next question is, of course, does "NO" mean he would do the same thing he did before, or that he would do the same thing as you?

What does YOUR "magic religious 8 ball" say? Hmmmmm?

A Sneak Preview of Things To Come

My post at George Washington's Cousin which I mention below has recently been altered.

The Sarah Palin video, which includes large chunks of images and information regarding the fanatical and incendiary group of right wing "christians" that she belongs to has been removed from You Tube and is no longer available. Instead I went to the filmmaker's website and was able to find the piece hosted on another server, so I have subsequently changed the link.

This kind of thing is pretty typical procedure for Google (which owns You Tube.. AND Blogspot). It has also been increasingly typical behavior in the U.S. during these "Bush League" years.

I REALLY hate getting into these fear-mongering perspectives and propagating the kind of negativity that seems to be flying about, BUT... I am afraid that it is only a small example of what is likely to come if we do not defend our precious liberty and prevent McCain/Palin and their cadre of revisionist neo non-thinkers from taking over the government.

"Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety." ~Benjamin Franklin

Women Against Sarah Palin

THIS needs no explanation and it's damn good reading. I offer it as my last word on the new candidate for Vice Pretender in Chief (who has already received FAR more attention than she deserves). These women are much more eloquent on the matter than I can even hope to be (duh!).

Here is the initial post (you'll find it, as usual, at the very bottom of the site scroll).

Read the rest for yourself! Then pass it on!

OUR ORIGINAL CALL TO ACTION
Friends and compatriots,

We are writing to you because of the fury and dread we have felt since the announcement of Sarah Palin as the Vice-Presidential candidate for the Republican Party. We believe that this terrible decision has surpassed mere partisanship, and that it is a dangerous farce-on the part of a pandering and rudderless Presidential candidate-that has a real possibility of becoming fact.

Perhaps like us, as American women, you share the fear of what Ms. Palin and her professed beliefs and proven record could lead to for ourselves and for our present or future daughters. To date, she is against sex education, the pro-choice platform, environmental protection, alternative energy development, freedom of speech (as mayor she wanted to ban books and attempted to fire the librarian who stood against her), gun control, the separation of church and state, and polar bears. To say nothing of her complete lack of real preparation to become the second-most-powerful person on the planet.

We want to clarify that we are not against Sarah Palin as a woman, a mother, or, for that matter, a parent of a pregnant teenager, but solely as a rash, incompetent, and all together devastating choice for Vice President. Ms. Palin's political views are in every way a slap in the face to the accomplishments that our mothers and grandmothers so fiercely fought for, and that we've so demonstrably benefited from.

First and foremost, Ms. Palin does not represent us. She does not demonstrate or uphold our interests as American women. It is presumed that the inclusion of a woman on the Republican ticket could win over women voters. We want to disagree, publicly.

Therefore, we invite you to reply here with a short, succinct message about why you, as a woman living in this country, do not support this candidate as second-in-command for our nation.

Please include your name (last initial is fine), age, and place of residence.

We will post your responses on a blog called "Women Against Sarah
Palin," which we intend to publicize as widely as possible. Please
send us your reply at your earliest convenience-the greater the volume of responses we receive, the stronger our message will be.

Thank you for your time and action.

VIVA!

Sincerely,

Quinn L. and Lyra K.
New York, NY
womensaynopalin@gmail.com

**PLEASE FORWARD WIDELY! If you send this to 20 women in the next hour, you could be blessed with a country that takes your concerns seriously. Stranger things have happened.

Be AFRAID...

I've posted a video and discussion regarding Sarah Palin's churches and her connections to The American Taliban at my George Washington's Cousin website because people need to know what this woman is, and those behind her are, all about. I am not a fear monger, and I believe in the political process, but we are truly through the looking glass here and we need to be paying attention.

Someone said about politicians that "It's not who you vote for, but who they bring with them." This has been especially true in the last eight years and if, by some absurd possibility, the country elects McCain/Palin the folks THEY bring with em will be a disaster.

40 Days To Life

For several years now (all the way back to when I was in New Orleans at the time of Katrina) I have tried to create a "change your life" program that runs for something around 6 weeks. I've tried different approaches, different lengths of time... I've tried pretty much everything and it has never worked.

So... with motivation I picked up at Glide Church yesterday morning (more on that later) I'm starting again. This time I'm going to blog it in the hope that the practice of publicly journaling my thoughts, feelings, experiences, and work in this arena will help me stick with it, and provide me with some sort of insight into my psyche that I might not have otherwise.

If you're feeling curious, or just particularly voyeuristic, you can read along at 40 Days To Life.

Just About The Only Thing That REALLY Matters

This song just kills me. The video takes me to another place altogether...
Right now I really need this inspiration.

Right now I need THIS to be what my life is really about.

It's not about Obama... It's about life counting for something... really.

Taking Cover... Round Two

Ike is working up a head for destruction and an intention for New Orleans. Already a Cat 4, it's bearing down on Cuba's eastern side, and that is already not a good thing.

When Ike pushes over Cuba, the storm will lose some power, but then it heads into an overheated Gulf of Mexico, already hopped up and ripe for the increase in force that the Gulf's high 80s temperatures is almost assuredly going to add.

Folks just getting back to their jobs in New Orleans on Monday are likely to find that they have to retreat again on Tuesday.

It's mind boggling... it's frustrating... it's scary.

It makes the overwrought issues of my life feel COMPLETELY inconsequential.

All I've got to say, is that I'll be prayin'... again.

Amnesia Central

The Republicans spent most of the last week and ALL of last night trying to pretend that THEY haven't been the ones in charge of the country for the last eight years.

They tried to pretend:

1) That it wasn't on THEIR watch that 9/11 took place. As they have for the last 7 years, they ignored the arrogant, ignorant, self-aggrandizing attitude of the incoming Bush administration that ignored the warnings they were given. They tried to pretend that Bush and Company didn't ignore security briefings and detailed reports exploring the possibility of the very thing that happened, and happened while Bush was just coming back from vacation.

2) That it wasn't on THEIR watch that we entered a quagmire of a war built up on the basis of lies by all involved, with an enemy that was set up by the VERY SAME PEOPLE who chose to fight it, for reasons that had nothing to do with a threat to the U.S. or even retribution for attacks against us, and with the sacrifice of men and women who were not properly prepared, supported, or equipped (and not by a Democratic controlled Congress, by the way... but by a REPUBLICAN controlled Congress).

3) As recently as last night, they tried to avoid the fact that it was a Republican administration that established us in Iran after setting up the Shah (a man at least as bad as our other "friend" Saddam), and that it was their beloved Ronald Reagan (along with George Bush Senior... the former director of the CIA) who treasonously engineered the continued capture of American hostages and then finally their release on Reagan's inauguration day. A deal brokered with arms for Iran, provided by business cronies of the Reagan administration and used to subvert Congress. an entire - and ongoing - process that has us EXACTLY where we are today.

4) That we are "hated" for our freedom, when the clear evidence is that we are "hated" for our reckless, insidious, and violent abuse of OTHER'S freedom.

5) That it wasn't on their watch that Bush and McCain laughed and joked and ate cake, while New Orleans (the second largest port in the U.S.) went under, and stayed under, water.

6) That it wasn't on their watch that the largest budget surplus in U.S. history was turned into the largest budget deficit in just 8 years through the haphazard policies of a renegade president, a thieving vice-president, and a complicit Republican controlled Congress.

7) That it's "Morning In America" and the Reagan Republicans have come back to save us from the Democrat's Debacle.

This debacle belongs to The Republican Party... and it belongs to John McCain. He not only has inherited it - a fact he spent the week (and the night) trying to avoid - McCain helped to create it!

It IS Morning in America... and THIS IS YOUR BRAIN ON HOPE!

So long John... Don't let the door hit ya on the way out!

Busy Making Other Plans

I've been having an interesting experience over the last few weeks. Actually this experience has been playing out for me over the last year. It just happens that because of certain significant events in my life, the focus of this tends to become extremely sharp during the last of August and first of September.

Whether it's fretfully watching the progress of Gustav (or now Ike) approaching, in, and through the Gulf of Mexico, or alternately laughing hysterically and biting my nails over election events, busting my chops to drive in new work and new business, or filling my mind with grandiose ambitions for hopeful personal futures, I am fully aware that LIFE is happening on a whole other level.

This was especially the case with my Bubble Day last Monday, but it was also the case this weekend as we simply threw up our hands and glided our way into Dry Creek for Bella Winery's Labor Day Weekend celebration, a laid back, easy to take, day on the grass with good wine and Mitch Woods at the keyboard. This was followed by a friendly party at a friend's house down the street, and then yesterday, an invitation to take the last of the afternoon off and join some friends for tasting and touring at Petaluma's own, Lagunitas Brewery.

The plans are still there... the fretting, the conniving, the hoping and dreaming... but life keeps going on anyway, and at times like this, in late summer wine country, I find it very hard not to echo the sentiment of a friend of mine in Sonoma, who once last fall made the observation that we "live like kings!"

Values, Voting and Vetos

The above graphic from Salon shows Governor Sarah Palin's use of line item veto to cut $1,100,000 of funding (more than 20%) for Covenant House, a home for teen mothers.

I thought about that for a while, in light of Sarah's new status of Vice President/Grandmother in waiting, and decided to write about it over at George Washington's Cousin.

Adrift in the Home of the Free Part Deux

I'm not a major fan of Amy Goodman's Democracy Now program. While on the one hand it always seems to me they do good work, and they have a history of paying attention to the things that matter, they also come off amateurish, overwrought and ineffective.

NEVERTHELESS... Amy Goodman and the folks that work with her serve a VERY important purpose in the ongoing reportage of incidents, material, and secrets that would not otherwise see the light of day (even if the daylight they see is extremely limited). In the midst of their reporting they regularly enter the fray of the controversies and protests that they are covering (as far back as 26 years ago, Pacifica reporters were broadcasting from jail when I was arrested with several thousand other protesters at Lawrence Livermore Labs).

Yesterday two producers from Democracy Now, and later Amy Goodman - who was working to get them released - was arrested as well. The above video shows her personal citizen/authority interaction.

This is the general nature of police forces under such circumstances, and particularly the case under present circumstances, present legal convolutions, and the present administration.

As of this writing, Amy, et al have been released, but are still under indictment.

This is not America!

Short Attention Span Theater

The Republican's are already getting all self-congratulatory over how they've handled the catastrophe of Gustav three years after Bush and McCain served up birthday cake while New Orleans drowned.

Everybody's breathing a sigh or relief and patting each other on the back for doing a better job this time around (so far...) as if that excuses them from the travesty of Katrina three years ago and the ongoing incompetence, callousness and irresponsibility that has continued to plague relief efforts to this day.

This time George, who likely was looking for a way to get out of a disastrous speech to close out his horror of an administration anyway, got served up a reprieve. Instead he wound up in Texas looking as bored and dull-witted as he did when he attended Kermit Ruffins concert at the White House and reminded him to "...make sure you pick up the trash when it's over.".

So far, the best thing about Gustav is that we won't have to suffer through Dick Cheney's speech, while the "Maverick" tries to make us forget that gargoyle of a Vice President by soft-peddling us Little Mary Sunshine. McCain and Ms. Lightweight headed off to Mississippi to make sure they were seen looking concerned about storm damage rather than shoving pieces of birthday cake into each other's mouths like fawning teenage newlyweds.

SPEAKING OF WHICH... Mama Palin and her family offered us up an interesting thought on the office when she acknowledged that her 17 year old daughter is pregnant. I seem to remember a moment in Barack's speech the other night when he said "...regardless of whether or not we agree on abortion we can all agree on the need to reduce the number of unwanted pregnancies." I'm guessing this isn't going to be a major focus of the McCain/Palin campaign over the next two months.

And the beat goes on... Happy Labor Day!

Just Too F&!#'n Funny

On a lighter note... This is the kind of thing I was just talking about... THIS is what happens to you when you watch too much You Tube (though I actually found this in the most recent issue of Rolling Stone).

In honor of the 10th Anniversary of The Greatest Story Ever Told, here's 2 minutes of Fantastically Funny Freaking Filmwork.

To quote The Cowboy (and a number of my personal friends)... "Do you have to use so many cuss words?"

[Note: Not for family (or office) consumption.]

Adrift In The Home Of The Free

I was checking on the Gustav blogs that Enigma4ever has at Watergate Summer and found a link to a really beautiful version of Randy Newman's Louisiana 1927, a song that always made me cry BEFORE Katrina, but which now days I can barely make it through without breaking down into sobs. In that sense it's alot like an Anders Osborne song (sung here by Jesse Moore) that really has come to be the Katrina anthem to me, and a lot of others.

All of that is actually by way of saying that the song above has nothing to do with that (well even that's not really true, but you'll have to watch the video to see what I mean). I found the song above in one of the You Tube synapses that almost always happens when you go to You Tube for one thing and emerge four hours later, glassy eyed and confused.

In any case... with Gustav bearing down on The Crescent City, and The Republican Convention bearing down on The Twin Cities (at the opposite end of the country), I offer the above video as honor, memory, and wistful longing for an America that might have been (and with ANY luck at all, might yet still be).

You're Kidding... Right?

So John McCain has decided that the way to go after a dream ticket like Obama/Biden is to pretend like Sarah Palin is somehow the equivalent of Hillary Rodham Clinton.

To quote a line from Firesign Theater, "It's an interesting approach... but it isn't us."

On Wednesday night Senator Clinton brought her historic campaign to a close when she came to the floor of the Democratic Convention, took her name out of nomination and asked that the delegates nominate Barack Obama by acclamation. It was an amazing political moment, a classy act, and shrewd politics. It was the act of someone who knows what she's doing and has been doing it for most of her life.

To the contrary, John McCain has just chosen a woman whose entire political career consists of being the mayor of a town of less than 10,000 and being Governor, for all of eighteen months, of Alaska, a state with a population (670,000) smaller than most large cities in the U.S. THIS is her entire experience, and THIS is who John McCain puts up as some sort of equivalent to Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and Joe Biden.

There are plenty of people who I am sure will fall for this ruse, but please, let us not fall into the stupid argument that there's anything about Sarah Palin that makes her the political equal of anyone on the Democratic ticket. The campaign that has been ranting about Barack's inexperience to govern has just provided us with a candidate for Vice President who could not be LESS suited to high office. It's too bad that John couldn't have tapped the small though significant list of far more qualified Republican women... But those women likely would have been too much for him.

Nice try John... and it IS indeed nice to see the Republicans nominate a woman for the nation's second highest office.

Next time, could you maybe nominate someone actually CAPABLE of holding it?

Between A Rock and A Wet Place

Because of my experience 3 years ago today when, at pretty much the last minute I grabbed my landlord's dog and my landlord's van and beat it (very very SLOOOOWLY) north to Hattiesburg MS to ride out Katrina, and because of my care for and concern for so many people still in The Crescent City, I worry A LOT about what goes on during hurricane season.

This morning however, checking to see the status of Gustav, I caught this image from the National Hurricane Center and thought... YOW! My sister, aunts, cousins and friends on the east coast of Florida, The Pirate and his family on the west coast of Florida and even some new friends I just met the other day in wine country, are sitting smack dab in the middle of a tropical onslaught that's going to be ugly no matter how you look at it. Folks from Cuba and the Caribbean and pretty much all points north are looking at a one two punch like nobody's seen in quite some time. This is what life in the tropics during the late summer is really all about.

Our Lady of Prompt SuccorHasten to Help Us...

I got a call last night from New Orleans. My friend Mary had called to ask me to go to the website of Our Lady of Prompt Succor, the patron of New Orleans, and to pray... and to KEEP PRAYING. Knowing me, and my rather dubious spirituality, she wasn't 100% serious... she was only 99.97% serious.

Mary already had much of her stuff packed and was preparing to get things, like risers for her bed, if and when the flooding comes. Mary knows the drill. She lost her house three years ago when The Thing took us out last time.

Yesterday, Louisiana Governor (and possible McCain running mate) Bobby Jindal made statement trying to reassure everyone that plans were well in hand and that comes as soon as Thursday, the state might start "activating bus contracts" with contraflow escape routes starting as early as sometime Saturday. Of course, during this time, a week away from probable landfall, C. Ray Nay-gone has yet to utter a word (at least any word that I can find) and Governor Jindal is probably feeling pretty pissed that he might have to miss the Republican Convention.

So here we go again. Gustav has already killed 11 in Haiti and will no doubt cause even more havoc in Cuba when it blasts that little island sometime tomorrow. The fact of the matter is that wherever this storm goes, it's likely to be massive. I have friends on the West Coast of Florida that could get hit if it heads East, and friends in Mississippi that will get hit if it heads down the middle, and lots and lots of dear folks in New Orleans (who I expect will get the hell outta Dodge pretty quickly), if it stays on the track the weather service is now predicting.

So... I'm heeding Mary's request and taking the prayer to Our Lady of Prompt Succor out to the backyard where I can pray it in front of the statue of The Virgin that my landlord has in my little "Garden of Good Graces." Care to join me?

Happy Bubble Day!

Yesterday was my birthday and in an ongoing change of lifestyle that has been rolling out ever since last year at this time, I actually TOOK THE DAY OFF!

What did I do instead of spending the majority of my waking hours staring at the screen of my Mac? Well... to read about that go over to FoodFetish and take a look. It mostly has to do with Karen and I heading out in search of bubbles... many many bubbles.

For me this birthday felt like the culmination of a process that began for me a year ago when I finally put to bed some of the deepest struggle, lostness and pain that came out of the summer of 2005 when I first moved to - and then away from - New Orleans, before, during and after Katrina. For me it's been a year of truly rebuilding my life; finding new love, of finding a new place to be, seeing my daughter get married and enter a whole new life of her own, finding new people, new work, new enjoyments (and renewed old enjoyments), new pastimes, and new hope.

We ended the day in another BUBBLY FASHION, when we made it home in time to catch Ted Kennedy at the convention.

Watching his speech felt like a significant part of my birthday, for it ended a truly perfect day with the up note of positivity, hope for the future (even in the face of brain cancer) and the idea that a change really just might be around the corner.

It was a very good day. Indeed... it was a BEAUTIFUL day.

I'm Sorry E...

I can't not write this blog today.

The Olympics, which I love... always... and which I think are, and should be, mostly apolitical are ending tonight in Beijing.

Because yesterday I was accidentally (in that internet sorta way) directed toward a new site with very interesting and informed connections, I have been fully confronted with a reality I was very aware of, a reality I was having a problem with, and a reality that disturbs me on many many levels.

19 years ago this summer I stood in the living room of my home in Sonoma, watching a black blank TV tuned to CNN as reporters screamed news about an unbelievable event happening at that very moment. I was stunned. My mouth open, my mind astonished. There was a real revolution happening right before our ears and the juxtaposition of voyeurism and compassion was nearly impossible to stand.

These moments were then followed by one of the most astonishing images to ever cross a media screen. The single image of one man, staring down a line of tanks.


Since that time there have been many changes in China... changes theoretically for the good, and changes theoretically for the better.

One of the main changes is that in the 19 years since Tiananmen Square the Chinese government has come to own a massive percentage of our Dubya created debt. They also are creating an ubelievable market economy that, as usual, ignores, and even exploits, the reality of the lower classes in the rural areas.

There is of course the question of the issues with Tibet and ongoing human rights violations

But the most compelling question with regard to China still comes back to those days 19 years ago when first students, and then the general population stood up to say STOP. There is an amazing documentary on the event and on the inspiration of "Tank Man" which takes 90 minutes to watch, but is completely available on You Tube. Most importantly, this documentary looks at how the west has chosen to accommodate the Chinese government and it's abuses for the simple fact that there is profit... LOTS of profit... to be made there.

At the same time that we as a government, and individuals, sell ourselves out hook, line and sinker to the authoritarian government of China, we are closing in on 50 years of embargo against a little tiny island 90 miles from our shores. Because both sides of our government cowtow to the Gusanos in Miami, in search of the ever present dollar and the ever elusive chad, our government permanently (at least in my life time) exists within a reality between selling out to a set of big time "communists" on one continent and big time greed heads on our own, while pretending that "Amerkkka" stands for freedom.

I'm 54 years old tomorrow, and I don't think I can remember when we have ever REALLY stood for freedom, despite our rhetoric and despite what I want to believe. I am pretty sure, on this evening before my anniversaire, that I don't want to live life in any way that ignores any longer the basics of what really matters. But I've struggled with that reality for my whole life (literally my WHOLE life) and I still don't have a decent answer regarding how to both exist in a life that is lovely to live, AND a life that matters.

Somewhere about 22 years ago (more or less) I was visiting new friends in LA, when one of those new friends made a comment that transformed my life. Sitting around the middle of his living room, drinking wine and pontificating about what mattered in the world, a whole collection of us waxed eloquent about the way things ought to be in the age of Reagan. At that time, I had just come back from the first Witness for Peace trip to Nicaragua, and my business partner and I were developing a gospel album that chose to truly take on the ongoing story of American militarism that included, Iran, Iraq, Guatemala, Nicaragua and more (the fact that one of the songs being worked on at that very moment could have been written yesterday is for another blog at another time). My friend stopped the conversation (and stopped my heart, my brain and forever my ongoing sense of what matters) with the comment, "Plato said that three things matter; Justice, Truth, and Beauty, and I'm ready for a little beauty." We were very big on justice and truth in those days, and I thought his advocacy of beauty was vitally important.

Right now, at nearly twice the age I was when we had that conversation, I am once again looking for truth and justice, but with the added hope that maybe we could include beauty as well. I've never been able to really pull this off, and I am forever, and rather unsuccessfully, searching for it.

But these days... I seem to have a bit more hope, and on this birthday eve I really am hoping that we might get there this time.It is indeed MY AMERICAN PRAYER.

Let's Go Joe!

Okay... so the suspense is over. I didn't get my promised text message last night though. Several weeks ago the Obama campaign txt messaged (can that REALLY be a verb!?!?) me stating that Barack would be announcing his VP choice by txt message in the coming weeks so all us lucky millions of minions should stand by our phones.

Well... I did. Don't ask me why. It's not like I didn't have plenty of other things to do besides checking my cell phone, but there I was all day yesterday, checking and rechecking the little silver Motorola in my pocket every time I felt a stray buzz or heard a faraway beep. Other people got the call, but not me.

So this morning I get up and turn on CNN only to find out that John King has scooped me! Joe Biden is the VP selection, and while it left me feeling a bit jilted, I have to say that this really is MY Dream Ticket.

I have admired Joe Biden since I was in college and he was a freshman senator during the Watergate hearings. I have never ceased to be impressed by him ever since. There have been many times when he felt a little too conservative for my most leftward leanings, and other times when his straight talk, down the line, dog with a bone questioning in Senate hearings has made me smile and made me proud. He's always been one of those people that makes me feel glad about being American. He's given me a lot of those "see what humans can do" kind of moments.

Joe Biden is, as one commentator I heard described him this morning, a "happy warrior." He is perpetually smiling while at the same time you get the sense that the man is about as grounded as it's possible to be. It's going to be tough for the McCain campaign to weasel in on Joe. He provides the stability that people keep trying to claim is lacking in Barack (I don't agree with those people by the way, but that's for another blog).

Besides all that... he's a real snappy dresser!

Right now though, I wanna know how come I didn't get that 3 am phone call.

Down the Rabbit Hole

It's been nearly a month since I actually wrote a blog. It's not that I haven't been writing (au contrare) it's just that focusing on BLOG writing, or even taking the time to put some of the things I have written for blog consumption ON LINE has been completely unavailable. I've tried to address that a little bit by starting a "mini blog" at Twitter, which you can find here, but in general it's just been a little bit like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride over the last few weeks.

About three months ago I volunteered to co-chair the Petaluma Sesquicentennial River Fest committee. I thought, hey... it'll be fun; it will get me more connected with the town (something that hasn't happened since I moved to New Orleans three years ago) it won't take that much time, I'll be working with people with whom I enjoy interacting, it's far enough down the line that most of the critical stuff has been taken care of. Well... I couldn't have been more wrong, except for the people part. Most of the people I've worked with on this have been fantastic and have made it truly a worthwhile experience despite the insanity). What I never counted on (and I should have because, hell... I used to be in the CHURCH) was the way literally every waking moment would be sucked into the black hole of this exciting, though poorly planned and poorly executed adventure. Pretty much ALL of my assumptions about what had been done, needed to be done, and the time it would take were wrong. By the time I learned this it was indeed too late. That's pretty much the way such things go in general, and like I said, I should have known that.

What I'm glad about is that I have indeed found my way into deeper connection with the town where I live at present and in another way altogether, a deeper connection with myself in that way that only doing things outside your comfort level, and for others around you, can do.

It's going to be a GREAT event! If you're in Northern California this weekend you should stop by P-Town on Sunday and check it out for yourself. As for me... I'm going to be REALLY GLAD for this week to end so I can get back to WORK.

There Is No Fifth Destination

I moved to San Francisco 31 years ago next month. I was soon to be 23 (4 days after arrival), married for a year and a half, and about to become a seminary student at the Baptist seminary at the edge of the known world. I had been told by many folks back in Arizona that I should not let "sin city" turn me around and that I should be very careful that what they taught me in seminary didn't somehow destroy my pure beliefs. Of course, most of the people that provided that advice didn't realize that, even then, my beliefs weren't even close to pure (hence the reason I was moving to San Francisco rather than Dallas).

Despite the fact that we lived on the seminary campus in Mill Valley for the first three years of residence, I never felt like anything other than a citizen of San Francisco. My wife almost immediately got a job in the city. We went to a a wonderful very liberal, very political church in the city. I first volunteered and then was hired at a youth center in the Fillmore... We were San Franciscans in waiting, and upon my seminary graduation in 1980 we made it official. A couple of years later our daughter was born in San Francisco, where she still lives as a proud "San Francisco Native."

It was during this time that I stumbled upon Armisted Maupin's "Tales of The City." First, as a column in the Chronicle and later as the first book in this now 7 (a perfect number?) series.

From the first paragraph of the first story, I felt like I was a part of the Barbary Lane crowd. Sometimes I felt like one character, then at other times I felt like another. Most of the time I felt like I knew every one of the people (they were never characters) in the book and most of them were my friends. The ones I didn't fully know (for example, I didn't yet know anyone like Anna Madrigal) I came to love anyway and to look for them in the environment like someone searching for a unicorn or a magical wizard. I found them all soon enough.

When the series ended back in the 90s, I was overcome with a sadness much akin to the feeling you get when good friends - very good friends - move away, or otherwise disappear from your life. This happened at a time in my personal life (again a feeling of solidarity with the folks on the Lane) when I was a losing a lot of my personal flesh and blood friends. Losing them to AIDS, losing them to moves (both theirs and mine) out of The City, losing them through stupid disagreements, or simple relational laziness.

When the stories stopped coming, it was like my best friends had walked out on me and left me alone and dazed.

It was just about a year ago that I walked into Copperfields Books in Petaluma to be greeted by a new book display with the three word proclamation, "Michael Tolliver Lives!"

It stopped me dead in my tracks.

Armistead Maupin had done it again. While I had thought that my friends were gone forever. I was surprised to find out that, just like me, they had been continuing with their lives. Growing better... different... older. Here's Michael - whose inevitable and eventual demise I had come to sadly accept in the same way I accepted the deaths of so many flesh and blood people - alive, reasonably well, and strolling the streets of The Castro. My personal reaction was much akin to that of a character on the first page of the new book. "Hey, you're supposed to be dead."

It took me a year to get up the courage to finally purchase the book and begin to dig into the lives of these people I had lost. And it took me all of three days (it would have been one, but I had work to do) to tear my way through the book, laughing, crying, gasping, and cheering all the way.

These are my friends! And despite the fact that we lost track of each other for so long, they've come back and I am discovering how deeply I missed them. I spoke about this with a friend the other day and she had the exact same reaction... "Michael's ALIVE!?!?"

Yeah... Michael's alive... and he's my age, and the day after the clerk at the grocery store gave me the "senior discount" upon checkout, Michael gets it from a waitress in Florida. His reaction was much the same as mine.

Anna makes me smile softly with her understanding and her peace. These days she reminds me of several folks I know and love. Brian's daughter Shawna (and Michael's daughter as well, really) reminds me of my daughter; in attitude, and humor, and dress. The City is still The City, no matter what they do to change her.

I've really missed these people. This really IS my life...

There IS No Fifth Destination.