This photo is from 2006. The KKK was marching downtown, and it drew a crowd. I stumbled across some pictures I took from that rally yesterday and was slightly stunned at the contemporariness of the images. Obama would be elected president in 2008. How many lifetimes ago was that?
It seems that Trump has been president forever. We thought it was bad living under a Nixon presidency. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, he seems practically benign now.
My art/travel buddy brought over a Biden/Harris sign to put in the yard yesterday with a warning: the campaign workers said to take the sign in at night. Trumpers have been taking them down.
I sent this picture to my friend, a former colleague and boss from the factory, a black woman who grew up in the rural south.
I included the warning my buddy had sent. She replied: "You're worried about them stealing your sign at night?!?!?! They're trying to steal the whole election in broad daylight!!!!"
Well, I guess that's right.
The kids in that Obama pic would be in their twenties now. They are old enough to vote. I wish I could know which way they will go. I put the Biden sign in my yard knowing it served no purpose other than to piss off some of my neighbors. Nobody is going to drive by, see the sign, and think, "Oh, yea. . . I should vote for Biden. The hippie who lives there is right." My efforts would be better served by going door to door campaigning for Trump on his "Legalize Heroin and Abortion" platform. Even then, I think, Trump supporters would just nod their heads and say, "Right on." Or whatever it is that Trump supporters say. They don't give a shit as long as its Trump.
I think you should post twice a day.
ReplyDeleteMy family has left - the sun sets early. I need some wholesome activity to carry me through the end of the day.
:)
Well. I was up at 6 ish. Listened to some nice sounds and a little song. Crossword puzzle. Coffee. Dog walk.
I got stoned early last night and decided to just repose and let my mind wander - all it wanted.
Somehow I ended up at the Lake Hiawatha Elementary School Library and AV Room - which was a tiny little room up the the stairs inside the library - stuffed with file cabinets and other teaching stuff - but also the filmstrips and the film strip players.
I read every important book there was to read in the Library - some of them twice. I may have at least touched and removed from the shelf and glanced through every book.
Then, suddenly, we were allowed access to film strips. I had, somehow, forgotten how incredibly special that time was - tucked and locked away with that little machine. You had to learn how to load it. And we had to take turns. Boys liked the filmstrips for sure.
They got to be AV specialists.
I got to work on putting new books into the card catalog file using the Dewey Decimal System.
Then I decided it was time to watch Mr. Gunn. I get all crazy when they make out - and all I can think of is - making out.
I'm wholesome.
Turkey bacon is about the dumbest food I've encountered lately. It was buy one get one - so I did cause Ma uses it. WTF. It is horrible.
I must tell you though - I made smashed potatoes the other night for the dinner party. Wow everyone seemed to love them. Well the nice people in attendance did. I had one guest who was so - so - cranky looking and dour. She seemed to loath everything - especially if it had to do with me in anyway. Anyway.
Small red potatoes - any small potatoes - rolled them in olive oil and salt, pepper and some garlic - roasted them at 400 degrees - about half way through - take them out and smash them down with a fork - so you get some of the inside to show. I left them out while I cooked the rest of the meal on the grill - then I poured butter over the top - and put them back in to crisp up - ending with a light broil.
So good. I just used what was left - in an omelette. Along with onion and some colby jack cheese. Fuck the turkey bacon tho.
Yesterday, I found a pair of blue suede ankle boots in my size at the Thrifty. They are electric blue. With an old fashioned heel. I have been sterilizing them so I can wear them this week. They were 4.99. Great with skirts, dresses or pants. Well, I think.
I also did a bad thing. I bought perfume that costed a lot of money. It has been my signature scent and I have not had it for a long time. It arrived in the mail and I ripped open the box and sprayed some on. Oh it is delicious. I have never received more compliments about a perfume in my life. I've been wearing it about 10 years now. More when I was rolling in the estate sale dough. Now I rely on gifts at Christmas (Hannah). But being a newly employed Working Girl - I thought it might be okay to splurge.
ReplyDeleteI felt a tad guilty about it all day so I kept sniffing the bottle.
Well. I'm going to be heading down to the Trinket Shop soon. I didn't find too much yesterday - a few little things to add to the display. I need to clean them and ticket them.
And so, that is my report.
I did get a good poem from Poetry Daily yesterday. Well I do like Czleslaw Milosz a lot already. He is editor of one of my poem books that has a taped together binding (the Anchor Book of Chinese poetry as well - a few more).
And another good one today - from Haas. I'll post the Haas one, I guess today. I think you will want to edit it etc. But I just let it wash over me. And it felt good.
Meditation at Lagunitas
BY ROBERT HASS
All the new thinking is about loss.
In this it resembles all the old thinking.
The idea, for example, that each particular erases
the luminous clarity of a general idea. That the clown-
faced woodpecker probing the dead sculpted trunk
of that black birch is, by his presence,
some tragic falling off from a first world
of undivided light. Or the other notion that,
because there is in this world no one thing
to which the bramble of blackberry corresponds,
a word is elegy to what it signifies.
We talked about it late last night and in the voice
of my friend, there was a thin wire of grief, a tone
almost querulous. After a while I understood that,
talking this way, everything dissolves: justice,
pine, hair, woman, you and I. There was a woman
I made love to and I remembered how, holding
her small shoulders in my hands sometimes,
I felt a violent wonder at her presence
like a thirst for salt, for my childhood river
with its island willows, silly music from the pleasure boat,
muddy places where we caught the little orange-silver fish
called pumpkinseed. It hardly had to do with her.
Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances. I must have been the same to her.
But I remember so much, the way her hands dismantled bread,
the thing her father said that hurt her, what
she dreamed. There are moments when the body is as numinous
as words, days that are the good flesh continuing.
Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings,
saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry.
Filmstrips. Yes. I hadn't thought of them in years. They came with records that made a beeping sound when you were to move forward to the next slide. Funny, that.
ReplyDelete