My Weighty Thoughts on a Dreary, Rainy morning....

We have lost the ability to discern fact from fiction because of an obsession with people who are not worth looking up to, not worth knowing their names.  Yet, everyone knows who the Kardashian's are, everyone knows more athletes names than historians, everyone knows countless names of pop stars, yet not one current historian doing groundbreaking work, or one current author doing more to transform our understanding of life, dignity, and humanity is on peoples lips.

Reverence for humanity should be the common goal of a just society, a just world.  History shows us countless examples of the complete failure to succeed, yet history also shows countless examples of striving for success.  The struggle for success is the journey forward.

Reverence for humanity should be in every humans heart, yet there are countless examples of cold, calculating heartless humans gaining power and using every means to suppress humanities nature which should be the goal of every faith.  Yet, we continue to allow faith to be used to suppress humanity and spit in the face of what we know to be the intention of belief or faith.  Faith is something to be cherished, revered, and held tightly, given to those that represent the highest, humblest, quest for its awesome burden.

Anger can be useful if used wisely to squash tireless attempts at deluding truth with murky whataboutisms.  Anger, personified, can cloud judgement, can focus on rage and create destruction of the soul's ability to see clearly, compassionately.  This journey is murky and difficult, peppered with tremendous pitfalls in a perfectionist world.  Yet, we strive for humanities touch and grace.

When compassion, love, respect, and humility are considered weaknesses, you have a society devoid of growth, hardened by coldness and tribalism that seeks conformity to set norms of hierarchy that devour those not deemed strong enough.  Mocked, spit on, kicked while screaming for them to try harder to rise up to the privileged status of those within the tribal confines, cloaked in blood soaked mercenary suppression while claiming freedom's graceful opulence.

First Iraq War, CNN, and the death of the protected reporter

To this day I have a strong remembrance of where I was, how I felt, and that I was experiencing something special in news coverage in 1990.  That was watching day after day, hour after hour of CNN reporters in Iraq.  Groundbreaking is an understatement as this was the first time and the last time we have ever seen 24 hour coverage of war as it was happening, unfiltered day after day.

War correspondent Peter Arnett began his career in Vietnam pre war 1960 for the Associated Press in Saigon. I had no idea, but he was in the very city my wife was born in close to the end of the war.  I love the serendipity of lives passing in the night.  CNN's hiring of Arnett and Christiane Amanpoor became history in the making.  We see Amanpoor often today, but scarcely discuss the great Peter Arnett who is 83.

Arnett and Amanpoor became household names transforming journalism from the coveted control room seat on the 3 major networks of CBS, NBC, and ABC, where those before aspired to land, to the death defying frontlines in your living room tv. I felt I new Arnett and Amanpoor personally.  I still feel warmth and respect everytime I see Amanpoor on TV, like my aunt just walked into the room.  We could take heed by her words in 1996 about whataboutism/bothsideism today.

"There are some situations one simply cannot be neutral about, because when you are neutral you are an accomplice. Objectivity doesn't mean treating all sides equally. It means giving each side a hearing."
NY Times "Five Years Later, the Gulf War Story is Still Being Told", May 12, 1996.


Not enough is said about the women behind the mostly male war zone reporter.  And there were several.  A Private War just coming to theaters is a good start.  We should support this movie and the sanctity of journalism.  Our fabric will tear if we do not.

I believe this pivotal time changed the landscape for reporters. The government today, under Trump, has struck back hard against this wonderful progression of truth.  Historically, the government of the United States always had a rein on what information was deemed necessary for public consumption to a point, with the occasional leak that never quite rocked the boat hard enough immediately, and gave time to establish a collective response.

The first gulf war changed that dialog between news media and governmental control, that involved a level of mutual respect and a code of honor about the safety of reporters.  We saw George W. Bush change that when he refused to allow/restrict/protect reporters in the second gulf war.  Slowly, that erosion has had devastating consequences today.

We are now desensitized as we are separated from war's scurvy. The government is separated from the devastation they create by a comfy war "room" with buttons pushed and videos of detonations far removed from any emotion connection.  Fast forward to 2018 with the right's attack on the media they deem "fake news" and you see how the world has been turned upside down.

"Fake news" was the byproduct of a populous fed on just that for a couple of decades plastered in front of you at the checkout lines of grocery stores.  Syndicated non-stop programs of the worst of human behavior and deception from morning till late night, saturating the minds of tired overworked people who just wanted to be able to escape for a few hours.   Escape they did, and continue to do, without discernible care about reality or truth.  The drama is more important to fed the addiction of apathy.

It's no surprise that the death of variety shows saw the birth of flash entertainment news such as Entertainment Tonight, etc. The birth of endless channels and endless news gave way to lots of mindless nothing.  Critical news took a second seat to Entertainment and delusion of truth with mags like the National Enquirer.  What was truth anyway, right?

Today we have reached the head of the pimple because of untethered access to information on social media which is being attacked vigorously.  We have a chance at grasping that CNN groundbreaking dialog between worlds.  Interesting how CNN is Trump's nemesis.

It's no surprise we are seeing the birth of dictatorships, totalitarianism, and fascism.  This is about control in an uncontrollable world.  We can't let that happen.

Clearly, I don't have the answers, but knowing where we came from helps us learn from the past, correct course, and build, with reverence and humility, a world worth living in and fighting for.

So say we all.....Adama

A Career destroyed? A Movement diluted? What can we learn....

This is all a hot mess, but I find stories like Joseph M. Pierce's authenticate the harm being 

done by rigidity within populations that should embrace the complexities of heritage and 

identity, especially to the vast population who are products of non traditional relationships 

that carry a heavy burden, stigma of legitimacy of worth as human. I was told recently 

that I should shut up because I'm not a "practicing native".  No one cares what I have to 

say.  It's amazing how people will use a culture to culture shame another person. Hmmmm...

We need to be careful who we drag along with Elizabeth Warren's condemnation besides 

her, which is unacceptable and vicious, in my view. Discovering MORE about the past, 

who we are, what courses through our blood is important for many reasons regardless of 

whether "you" personally care or not. Many people don't care about the past and that's 

ok, but it is not ok to condemn others that do and not realize it is why we have historical 

dialog in the first place.  It also represents a white dominate past that many cannot see, 

viewed through white eyes, as anything but racist, with a valid point.

Yes, there are reasons to fight this past, but it is there and cannot be erased.  I am not 

a racist purely decided because I have predominantly Irish and British heritage, BUT 

there are many things I have been allowed to be oblivious of because of my whiteness 

and privilege. There were many white people much more privileged than I as well.  

My immigrants were poor Irish, Scottish, not so poor-not so rich British, German, Swiss, etc...

Many families, including mine and my wife's were a huge melting pot of culture, and 

suppressed culture.  My step-dad from the age of 6 on was Mexican, my twin sisters 

1/2 Mexican, my wife 1/2 Vietnamese, born in Vietnam. My nephews 1/2 black, 1/4 

Vietnamese.  Who the hell are we all??  Does my embrace of bloodline discoveries 

demonize other "legitimate" populations?  Why?  These are valid questions that don't 

have definitive answers.

You can judge me on my authenticity more by my actions and ability to change. You 

will get nowhere by telling me my whiteness means I don't have a clue before you know 

anything about me.  Who is the judge and jury?  No one seems to care that what is genuine 

is Elizabeth Warren's family story.  She distances herself from tribal councils probably 

because it will be viewed as her attempt to claim something she doesn't want to do 

because how it will look.  What the hell is she supposed to do when everyone has a 

different opinion about what is the right thing to do?

What defines families for better or worse through many generations is what we are talking 

about.  It's a huge mucky mess, but we should talk about it.  As a genealogist it's a 

double edged sword.  Oral histories are wonderful starting points that many times turn out 

to be not what they seem.  Misconstrued information by just common error, or downright 

made up to hide other unpleasant events, or a variety of scenarios many times leading 

to having to change the "oral history" documentation to match real documents.  This 

doesn't mean there is not a purpose for oral history, without it the indigenous population is 

left with a scarce history. 

Sally Hemmings had children with Thomas Jefferson proven through extensive research, 

AND DNA. That is important to history. Documentation aided by DNA testing can be very 

important tools.  Diluting this by trying to say her descendants can't claim blackness or 

whiteness is a silly argument. Elizabeth Warren will probably be able to find the exact 

grandfather or mother, in time, who was full blood indigenous, it may prove to be 

Mexican indigenous, Cherokee indigenous or many of the other tribes that were forced 

into Oklahoma by white settlers, but not all whites. It's a messed up stew to make huge 

generalities.  What is White?  That term is a slippery slop.

How much blood is enough? DNA is a starting point to lead to more documentation, 

not a diffinitive test like all the testing sites claim it to be.  They were in the business of 

selling kits with bad marketing ideas. We are all paying for this greed.

How much blood is enough can never be answered, but yet we all seem to have an opinion 

on that. Why is the Dawes Roll, which was a government controlled census, used to 

determine authentic Cherokee admittance to the Cherokee Nation when history tells 

us how many people rejected this "white man's" census and were not counted? Why 

is this the gauge for purity? How do we all understand and parcel out heritage and culture?  

Are they definitively separate and un-mutable?  Much of this is taken out of historical 

context.  Much of this is about helping a deeply depressed population have access to 

more opportunities.

How do we meld all the good intentions together without demagoguing individuals with 

good intentions?  I have lots of questions, while everyone around me seems to have 

deep opinions that don't answer these questions.  At least, not in ways that speak to a large 

swath of the population that is trying to understand this and not loose more connections to 

people.

I understand we are dealing with a hugely, enormous problem with a disparaged indigenous 

population that is on reservations. We are also dealing with people who want to use ethnic 

cleansing using this info for harm. I'm not going to say "so and so" is an expert on all of this,

 because quite frankly it could not be more complicated for experts as well.  But, we do 

need to listen.  All we have that is genuine and human is intent. Does a person intend 

harm with claiming a heritage ever so distant?  We can call a person on their mistakes 

and ask for a dialog about what this brings up. BUT, what has happened here is the 

ugliest form of tribalism from all sides. I hate joining clubs, religions, social groups.

I have many reasons based on "heritage" to belong to soldier groups from the most prestigious 

to common ones among big wars.  I come from a long line of warrior patriots that were very 

white.  I don't need to join an exclusive club to honor them because they had other attributes 

I'm not so proud of.  BUT, that is not why I don't join.  It's a huge complicated mess 

for me that causes me anxiety. I'm uncomfortable with people wanting to join the 

Mayflower Society.  But, I don't see why people can't celebrate this heritage, 

even though it is white, represents people who clashed with the native population. 

I think people would join the Iroquois Confederacy Society if they could prove lineage, 

and it existed.  You can honor the past and see it's horrors as well.  It's when used as 

a weapon to suppress people that we have an issue.  BUT, for some damn reason we 

can't seem to parcel out the differences.  We judge...it's our damn nature.

What we need is MORE space to be authentic to our experiences, not less.

Thank you, Joseph, for sharing your experiences.  I'm hoping to spread your authenticity 

a little further.  Cheers!

Joseph M. Pierce"In the end, I am writing this to attempt to be authentic 

to my experience of self in the face of this unknowing but also this new

knowledge. It seems to me that to deny this legacy, this heritage, however 

distant and bureaucratic it has been, is to participate in the erasure of the 

Indian populations of the Americas. It is to continue to silence that history. 

It is inauthentic. My choice is not to do that. So I do say now that I am 

Indian. But I say those words with humility. I say those words knowing that 

they are part of a circuitous path toward Indigeneity. I say those words 

knowing that I do not speak Cherokee, knowing that I do not know so 

much about what it means to be Cherokee. But I also say those words 

knowing that not having access to our oral history is an authentic 

Indian experience."

Man's treatment of Women. NEVERMORE

Chivara Orrin gives amazing testimony in the linked article. Chivara's Facebook post that struck me
Truth will not take a back seat anymore. The more stories of strength through insurmountable obstacles MUST be told and honored. Only then can we remove major obstacles that bolster Trump and his followers lustful egos. Their definition of "Winning" is always connected to domination, money, and life as a competitive sport. The bully mentality is breed through laughter, and lack of empathy.

If Trump's ego is not fed he has no status. Starvation of behavior must come from within. Men need to stand up in the locker room, on the job site, at the home, on the street and say "Nevermore!" You will be called out for not being able to take "a joke", "you're too serious, lighten up". Other men will ostracize you. If you're a man, you will learn to step up. If not, you have chosen the comfort of your privilege as a man, and don't want anything to change. Why should you? You have the world as your playground. Why should you share? Said every child before learning self responsibility.

The shear number of women coming forward with their stories of aggression by men is earth shattering. We need to step back and say a collective "my heart is breaking because of my blindness to this travesty". We are right now turning our backs on women. That is a stain that will be hard to recover from. It's no longer hidden...we should take a huge world pause and realize we can never pretend we didn't just get jolted into a place of never going back. You can't erase what you know now, please don't try.

I apologize for my extended rant, but I am devastated by the realization of what we have done to women, and most of all, with the knowledge we now have, we are doing nothing concrete to shine a light on the cockroaches. I re-imaged one of my favorite poems by Edgar Allan Poe.

I love a good joke, but never at the expense of having to be funny off someone else's back. I love to lighten up, when it's the right time. Now is not the time to back off and let it all go. We men have done that for too many years now, mostly to be one of the guys. I don't want to be "one of the guys" anymore if that involves demeaning women, demeaning the poor, demeaning those that don't follow archaic norms of the past. PC is the term conservatives rant against as a blanket generalization. Oh, how damn inconvenient that I have to watch what I say all the time. PC = respectfulness. No one said you had to be perfect, just that you try. Resentment against "just trying" is huge, overwhelmingly white and male. "Let them eat cake!" by Marie Antoinette (she may not have really said this) is a great example of how people can be oblivious to others lives. When you cannot get outside your own skin and imagine or try to understand you brothers and sisters, you have lost your way. You are not in a position to be given power of any type. You are an infant that needs to step back, observe live, and learn.

We are at an extraordinary time of dysfunction because the infantile have control of our country. They are not capable of learning anything, they take great pride in not seeing any world except their own and those that see their world in a similar way. They are not the majority and when the unhinged minority have power you have instability that ripples through the universe, especially if you are a large dominant country.


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door—
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.


I have a new interpretation for this famous Poe poem that most view as a representation of the loss of his wife. We need to hear women rapping at the door, we need to hear her stories, we need to morn our oblivious nature to her struggles and triumphs without our own egos saying "what about me?". The door is open, the darkness pleads for us to awaken and say "Nevermore", she is rapping at your door.

Can Elizabeth Warren escape condemnation from the people she serves best?

So..democrats are going to make Elizabeth Warren's good, yet probably flawed, intentions be the deciding factor of her viability for office, while we have ZERO viable candidates below 70's in age and progressive representation with anywhere near her credentials coming forward for this office? 

We need to be making vital decisions about how to win against the worst attack on our country's well-being. Democrats have always been best at harming themselves while Republicans watch, mock, and marvel at the ability for the left to shoot itself in the foot. Can we stop splitting hairs, look at intent, and the fallibility of humans? Give them opportunity to show worth before condemnation? 

I am mostly white, I also have Native blood, 7 generations back which gives me a small percentage in the DNA.  Yet two, probably three of my 7th, 8th, and 9th  great, grandfathers were Chiefs, proven in historical documents. That really doesn't mean crap...but how much is enough to allow me to honor that heritage, study it, and learn without being accused of diluting the indigenous movement? That discovery for me was definitive in my pursuit of historical study, of historical connections to the past, of trips to the tribal area in Virginia to stand on the land. Why doesn't this not serve the indigenous population?  I also have a very small trace of West African. This should show us how diverse and "one" that we all are than not.  I don't want to claim tribal affiliation.  I don't want to tell my Black friends I'm one of them.  But, I do believe the discovery is a great tool for learning and understanding connections, NOT differences, if we chose respect.

People that want to know their DNA want to embrace heritage. I believe that is a wonderful thing and only helps all of the diversity and connections to Indigenous, Black, and Hispanic lineages, cultures, and distinctions. It's extremely rare for anyone to take a DNA test to prove tribal membership, thus, why many tribes do not recognize DNA as a test of proven tribal connection. It's VERY complicated and I am both critical and understanding of both stances. Who decides the line in the sand? How much is enough blood? Why do we draw such exclusionary lines in the sand if tribal membership is not the goal? Why do we have such a need to belong to a group? 

Native sovereignty is crucial right now, thus the urgency to defend and protect. But, these are valid questions that many have no immediate answers, but are contemplative in nature, which can get us better answers, better human interaction, better movement forward....

We have no evidence that Elizabeth Warren has done anything intentionally malicious, yet she is being skewered as such. I believe she's damned if she does, damned if she doesn't here. ALL while we have a definitive person who is malicious, calculating, and damaging to our country beyond anything that has ever happened in our US history. 

PLEASE, let's not go on this divisive divide that will do more harm than good. Native American, Black American, Hispanic American, Gender non-conforming American, and women's rights are our biggest issues right now for good reason. The US population is getting very near the best melting pot of representation than ever before. But, these growing pains are happening while racism, bigotry, misogyny, and hate of "un-whiteness" is at a peak. The stew is a boiling and we have a lot on our plate. I want to let the Warren thing go. She took the test, she has native DNA just like many of us do going far back. Warren has asked for the million dollar bet to go to helping a Native charity. I believe this was about the best she could do...

The important part of this issue is her being a woman and being attacked by Trump. The context is important. If she is to run for President, she had to address it. Trump and his minions would not let it go. 

Take all the information in...do we chuck out Elizabeth Warren and hold her to a higher standard than anyone else on the table?  Is this a killer for her history of efforts on our citizens behalf which she has a terrific record for service especially going up against big money? I was not happy with many things she didn't do last go around.  I'm not campaigning for her, but I'm campaigning for "US" to get Donald Trump, Mitch McConnell, Paul Ryan, Jeff Sessions, Lindsay Graham, Chuck Grassley, Nut Gingrich, Sarah Palin, Kirstjen Nielsen, Betsy DeVos, Brett Kavanaugh, etc, etc, etc...as far away from our government as possible. 

Can we achieve this by using the same tactics of division, lack of unity, that got us Trump in the first place?  As liberal people how do we learn to defeat the tribalism of the right, move forward with more inclusively, know what we will be asked to compromise on, and pick our battles carefully, yet justly?

"Eye on the Prize" could not be more vital than it is today. There is too much at stake right now. These are pivotal historic times that will literally shape the future for better of worse. We have worse. It's time to try "better"....

None of us will be allowed to be complacent. 

My $.02

My Voice

To everyone who has been drained by the energy vampires trying to exhaust you with arguments over the Kavanaugh appointment. 

You may find you cannot engage with conservatives, period. They are taking an event that should be a turning point in our understanding of how women are treated, a moment we can all grow from and saying it doesn’t matter, it isn’t real. Or, at best, it might be real, but  there’s no proof, so it’s just sad confusion, and...well..just boys being boys. Slap!  Not going to let anything change, matter of fact, they’re going to reverse any progress.  You feel defeated.  They can smell your blood.

The past and the future could not be more at odds. Engagement is volatile. If you use logical points, any energy vampire knows how to manipulate and push buttons. They are rallying and using the same talking points.  They will try to ridicule you for qualities they find weak. A laugh emoji is not an argument, but a tool to insight anger, so they can drain your blood.

They are energized because they were at a point where defending Trump was getting difficult.  Now they have a new rallying call, and the energy vampires are coming out in droves, like cockroaches. Their favorite attack is emotion. Why?  

We are at an unusual time in history, that I am thoroughly convinced, is the same experience citizens under extremist regimes have been through.  

Because of this experience I find it imperative to study and find ways to understand and cope with what is before us. 

I know more about how drained and confused the German populous must have been during Hitler’s time, and how the poor, starving populous of Russia in the early 20th century felt.  We have an opportunity to really learn from a study of emotional thought and reaction during key times in history and change the outcome, hopefully, for the better.  That is what historical study is about at the core.

We need to see that what is “just” in your heart is being mocked by those that are fighting for a past they believed was glorious because they benefited from it. That is a form of hoarding, greed. Who are they if you are telling them what they cherish was really a lie. 

You will not change their minds, and at this point you shouldn’t try. Why?  Because of motive.  Because of their protectionism.  

There’s a pattern. All of my conservative friends, family, and acquaintances disappear from discussions on social media when they feel outnumbered.  Yet, when events like the Kavanaugh hearing results validate them, they return like they haven’t missed a beat. The hibernation is over and they’re seeking new blood sucking sources.

They are motivated by exhausting you.  Liberals have ALWAYS had a “too nice” problem. Bullies, energy vampires breed off of this niceness.  I’m not suggesting we all abandon niceties completely, I’m suggesting this isn’t a time to be all that nice.  I know...shocking.

We who seek equality and justice in a cruel world are emotional for good reason. That rare quality is the most valuable resource a soul has. The vampires will use that to call you weak.  Look at patterns, recognize diversion tactics, but most of all don’t feel you have to feed their blood sucking lust which is the hardest part. 

Facts are mutable to them.  So, no matter how hard you try, your spinning your wheels.  They will stick to their talking points and ignore you pointing out logic, facts, or anything that clarifies what they want murky.  Don’t waste yourself on people that are unreachable.  They will say they just like debate.  That’s a lie.  I don’t like closing off doors, but sometimes other priorities are more important.  How is your energy best spent?  Mine will be seeking life as it should be, not as it is.

 “When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness To surrender dreams - -this may be madness; to seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness! And maddest of all - to see life as it is and not as it should be!”  Miguel de Cervantes

There are rare times in life when Art meets life’s stark reality.  I’m in the midst of performing in a show that crashes with current events.  It’s about chivalry, honor, the harsh realities of life, gang rape and the subtleties of power and powerlessness, and mostly how women should be treated.  It intersects with my own life experiences, and special people. It’s a tremendous rollercoaster that energizes and drains you beyond your capabilities at times.  

When you realize you have been propelled into a belief system that has matured beyond what you have been able to tolerate in the past, that is tremendous growth. Events pile up on your back, string up a burden you struggle to manage, that is growth.

So, my hope is we are all capable of following our heart into the battle for our souls.  We are able to know when to retreat to self care, and when we are desperately needed to step up, speak up, and not yield.

People are desperate for heroes.  Maybe we are all being asked to be heroes. We are capable and strong with "emotional" integrity as our sword of penetrating light. 

While the Kavanaugh nomination has brought out how distructive our current government is, it is a time to avoid Trumpian talking points that delude truth and stay focused on action. 

Above all else, our beacon is the fact of how and why our Constitution was drafted, it’s flaws and strengths.  What Democracy means.  How we have been a country of popular vote electing officials that serve the MAJORITY populous regardless of their own personal biases. While history has shown us inept in many areas, the key has been our progression, our attempts to learn and grow.

That is NOT the government we have right now.  That is not the minority Trump populous we have now.  They care for nothing but self service.

To address this, left leaning and progressive voices have to be willing to be activist in small ways, and support those who can work in bigger ways.  Our youth is a big part of this picture.  We need to identify leaders, not “A” leader, that can work cohesively for the greater good of a large populous.  None of these leaders will have everything to offer alone, but if a group works together as a wall serving the majority populous we cannot be stopped.  Truth, honor, and nobility have never and will never be easy paths.  We must chose this burden.

We already live in mild tyranny on it’s way to fascist totalitarian dictatorship.  Those that will vote again for Trump are not interested in democracy.  Why?  They do not recognize THEIR “values” in the majority populous anymore.  They would rather see the country burn to the ground than support progress that doesn’t line up with their white male role models of the past.  They are an angry mob fighting to maintain their fear of change.  Don’t attempt to use facts or logic with them. They are energy vampires.

Our President has the lowest popularity ever, our Republican leaders in the House and Senate do not serve their populous, nor do they care to listen.  They fear town Hall meetings where they have to face the people they were elected to serve.  They push through unpopular agendas to feed their addiction to power and money. This is NOT a democracy.  We have been made vulnerable to this by greed on both sides, but clearly the difference is the left is seeing the mistakes.  The right has no time to ever admit error, thus they do things in the darkness of night.  They distract you with the Kavanaugh hearing and give another tax windfall to the rich, heaped on our already burdened backs.  Laughing down at us while they mount a higher hill of soot and filth for us to drown under. 

I will not yield......

Shattering Boy’s will be Boys

“But....but...there are no witnesses.”  Conservative mantra for centuries.  As a researcher/writer, when there are no primary documents you build a case based on collection of secondary information such as these distinct patterns.  That’s to prove a case.  What is before us is not to prove the case, but to decide a persons background of impartiality to serve as a judge in the highest court.  The evidence provided by Brett Kavanaugh, himself, at his last hearing is overwhelmingly against his capability to do the job. 

All men need to re-evaluate the behavior you feel forced to ignore, go along with, and at worst participate with.  Men/boys do things in numbers they would never do individually.  Why?  That unspoken need to fit in, that unspoken clan behavior that is out of control focused on doing nothing good that, unleashed, will focus on the non-participant if they don’t go along. Too many men fear for their egos damage at best or their lives at worst, in these situations.

We don’t discuss this enough to change the behavior.  It begins innocently with macho talk, sports, boosting, etc. escalating to areas unknown until it may be too late to escape.  This is the mantra of the gang.

I don’t engage anymore with anything that resembles this behavior very early on.  I walk away knowing I will be ostracized, yet learn to cherish my ability to self select who is worthy of my time and effort.  

We men need to do more to teach our boys how to navigate this mine field of pressure.

Opinion Piece: Flake and the Republican Grandstand

While the confrontation with Senator Flake was powerful, we must not forget, IF this was a democrat who had been accused of the same charges as Brett Kavanaugh, they would have been gone long ago, reputation tarnished forever. Kavanaugh is outraged that the democrats DARE to attempt to do this to him.  He doesn't give a shit about poor Dr. Ford.  Of course he doesn't remember doing any of this.  We all had brewskis...a lot of brewskis.  She's obviously confused and he is struggling not to walk over and pat her on the head.  His cute daughter told him, she will pray for her.  Sending our thoughts and prayers....

Gary Hart, Howard Dean, John Edwards...gone in the blink of an eye, not because of the Republican standard, which attacked these men, NO because they were democrats.  Gary Hart and John Edwards had affairs.  Howard Dean yelled too loudly.  Bill Clinton had affairs and was on trial for Impeachment for far less than our current President is guilty of, but again the only difference is the game of political stupidity we all suffer under.  Bipartisan is a word that has no meaning anymore. The word is used aggressively, accusing others of using it while wallowing in the filth of its very essence.

None of the affairs are acceptable behavior for high offices, but in reality they are distractions.  We should not condone any of it.  We should decide across the board and stop holding Democrats to a higher standard while Republicans pretend to have moral fiber, laughable, if we weren't being strangled by it's hypocrisy. Brett Kavanaugh is not on trial.  Our democracy is, and women are still continually left out of the conversation.  Who saved the day yesterday?  A woman, a hispanic woman!  Representing everyone that is left out of the conversations about how we run this country.  Look at us!  We have male domination in our government and they're outraged we dare to attack their behavior.

Republican's try to claim high moral ground, but I would argue time has shown they have NEVER had a moral ground, just a dog and pony show to dupe us into thinking they cared about anything except power.  An invisibility cloak handed to them by Franklin Graham!  We have seen the antithesis of their game reach a level of male ego that makes the earth shutter and choke from the hand covering her mouth.

THEIR morality presented careful, while they hide under that cloak of invisibility, allowing them to roam amongst us violating the core of our system of justice and equality.  They laugh at us with their stale beer breath, revealing their lust for sexual conquest, hidden in their vulnerable reality of low self esteem.  

The Republican Party has become an old male fraternity where they choose the women that can stand beside them, adoringly praising their steadfast heroes into battle against the feared enemy... "She's attractive".  The old men, in control of this very important milestone hearing, are struggling to condemn a man who represents the behavior they have been guilty of mirroring.  Right up to the attempted rape, they see their reflection in the Kavanaugh mirror.  White America...Manifest Destiny....join our club where the order is preordained by the word of the Bible. We are humble servants of righteousness and purity....hurry, put on that cloak so we can hide.

  

This Republican Party today is a horrible stain on the parchment of our Constitution. They have shown us what they are capable of and it is shattering. The level of change is too great for these people to fathom.  They must hunker down and fight showing no fear, while the little boy is frightened to death.  

We are looking for adults with a willingness to admit error and change. But, humility is not in their dictionary. They have only shown us the lengths they will go to avoid humility, and the cost will be our country.

The Quest of Courage

 Thank you, Dr. Ford for your courage and dedication to honor and truth today!

 To dream the impossible dream 
 To fight the unbeatable foe 
 To bear with unbearable sorrow 
 To run where the brave dare not go 

 To right the unrightable wrong 
 To love pure and chaste from afar 
 To try when your arms are too weary
 To reach the unreachable star 

 This is my quest 
 To follow that star 
 No matter how hopeless 
 No matter how far 

 To fight for the right 
 Without question or pause 
 To be willing to march into Hell 
 For a heavenly cause 
 And I know if I'll only be true 
 To this glorious quest 
 That my heart will lie peaceful and calm 
 When I'm laid to my rest 

 And the world will be better for this 
 That one woman, scorned and covered with scars 
 Still strove with her last ounce of courage 
 To reach the unreachable star

Lyrics from To Dream the Impossible Dream (altered to reflect the dignity of the woman's quest that is undeniably equal to that of any man)

Atonement

When men heap a heavy woolen sweater of shame onto a woman’s back, turn up the heat, then assume her guilt when see perspires, you have a perfect visual for centuries of past behavior. 

We should remove the coat, atone for our lens of superiority by cleansing her feet in our shame.

This is a REVOLUTION!!

It’s 11:30pm on September 16, 2018 and I have to get up at 5:30am, but I have just read the Atlantic article “Hillary Clinton:  American Democracy is in Crisis”written by Hillary Clinton.

This is groundbreaking for the best of reasons.  I am constantly accused of not liking Hillary Clinton because I have consistently criticized her for not doing enough, not saying enough, not standing up enough.  I have always had very high expectations of Hillary Clinton.  She is and was in a position to be groundbreaking and she wasn’t quite ready for that on my time table.  I was frustrated with her because she was mute when I wanted to know exactly how she felt, what she was going to do, and why she was so aligned with corporate money. I couldn’t support her until she met those expectations.  We should get no less from a Presidential candidate.

I just witnessed the birth of the real Hillary Clinton and I see in this article the growth I had desperately wanted from her.  I wrote to her on twitter, a few days after July 4^thto say just how much we needed to have her step up and speak out.  I was met with harsh criticism for “attacking” her from her followers.  I was not attacking her.  I was frustrated that she was not living up to my expectations.  I know…. who am I?  Why should she answer to me?  I’m America and I needed her strength and embrace.  

I really, really think we need a woman to lead this country NOW!  It sounds horrible sappy and spiritual, but the world is dying from a lack of a warm embrace.  I don’t mean that in any gendered biased way, but men have given us enough anger and fear. We long for embrace as a breathing planet that’s immune system is dying, no more so than here in the United States of America.  

Tonight, is monumental. Hillary Clinton has probably felt that she is no longer wanted, and what we were presented with, in the past, may have led us to that conclusion.  Tonight, she showed her leadership, strength and finally her conviction.  She has now made a presidential stand, with a list of grievances against our democracy, and she has a PLAN.  This is who I desperately wanted to see.  I know there are those that want to believe she was perfect before, but I will not yield on that.  She was not, she was silent and conservative.  This new Hillary is emboldened.

She will be hit from both sides, but most violently from the Trump camp.  I know who these people are.  They are the ones who don’t pay attention to anything, they don’t really care about anything.  Anything! They have no knowledge of history or politics, yet have strong opinions, very few facts, and only care about the fight. The divisiveness gets them high, and they love practicing their bully behavior where it counts the most, where they can hide, on social media.

So, tonight is a pivotal movement from someone we have needed to take the reins and led this country. Trump may have needed to happen for us to get here.  Trump may have needed to happen to Hillary Clinton for us to see what she is made of. And, oh…. tonight, she is magnificent. 

I will follow this Hillary and I am a strong socialist.  I’m for a strong worker’s party.  I’m a socialist that believes in the principles of community lifting our brothers and sisters, so we can all walk together and share this difficult journey together, with dignity and hard work.  There is no place for people that breed venom in this new path and they know it.  We will falter, we will fail, but we will prevail. I think we need to stress our common goals and work on our differences.

But, now, we have to figure out how to annul this presidency.  Yes, annul.  It is possible and doable although there is no precedent.  There was no precedent when those outnumbered, under supplied, green, patriots decided to make the leap to freedom against all odds.  That was us and we can do it again.  We’ll establish new morays, new amendments like our soon to be restored President Clinton has started to declare.  This is new territory and I am excited at the possibilities before us. Let’s do this, shall we?  If we are so emboldened, I have no doubt we will be cheered from the rafters of the world stage.  Let’s not lose this opportunity.  I fear this may be a dream……I hope this is the new Hillary Clinton.

A Life with a View

Sometimes something as simple as watching a movie jars you back to what makes your life profound.  Yes, profound is a word people rarely use when talking about themselves.  I've spent the majority of my life feeling profoundly "less than" and I'm tired.  We are at a precipice on this planet.  We are in the process of eradicating passion, emotion, and feeling.  Matter of fact, as a man, I've been told countless times these traits are weak, avoid them at all costs.  We are seeing the absolute personification of this by those in power in our country, and I'm tired....

We are all leading profound lives.  If anyone tells you otherwise they are helplessly trying to suck up your vapor.  Stop letting them.  You are profound.

This article will, hopefully, be a line of others that will be my soul purging, so...stick with me, if you are interested, through my unorganized goo of thought.  My hope is that dialog resonates in us all and we can become better for considering what humanity and personhood means.....I believe we are all tired....I believe we desperately need to connect.  There will always be vapor suckers.  I'm sure there will be many who I will make very uncomfortable or downright mad.  Today we see a tremendous amount of lashing out, demonizing, belittling, and bullying with very little contemplation.  I'm not interested in insensitive bullying and name calling because you have nothing concrete to contribute. I'm tired....


Recently,  I watched a movie called "Mudbound" with a bunch of historians while we twittered away.  I knew it would not be an uplifting movie, thus I had avoided it. I didn't know it would take me back to the first 25 years of my life of turmoil, pain, and anger that has led me to today...contemplation.  I grew up in the south, and two years were spent in Mississippi at a pivotal time in my young adult life.  So, this movie hit me square in the face. My family never discussed lynching, ever.  We really never discussed anything other than sports and republican politics.  I'm tired...

I don't have the space or time for a thorough history of life as I've lived it, so I just want to focus on a mirror into some experiences that came up.  I grew up in a racial and conservative south that did and will always deny racism. Yes, for the majority, all the people around me were "very good" people, many with families that were much less racial than mine, some with families that were worse.  As I aged, things that permeated what and who I interacted with began to itch my skin.  At the time it remained a subtle itch that has become a dire eczema eating away.  My family became a battle ground between two progressive women who I loved dearly.  My Mom and my Sister (biological aunt) were fighters, but life beat them down.  I watched them struggle for room to breath in our home without any real cognizant understanding for what was happening at the time.  My grandmother told me on her death bed, when I asked the question "what did you want to do, but were never allowed to do?"  She told me she really wanted to go to college because she adored learning.  She was the product of the depression and that was never a possibility as a poor woman.  She was an A student in Latin, yes, they taught Latin in very small schools everywhere. But, girls got married and had kids, it was what was expected.  I'm tired...

Dealing with my own personal issues distracted me, saved me, but ultimately allowed me to put off my understanding of what was around me and escape.  How could I justify being surrounded by "good people" and criticize the underbelly of racial, devaluing of women, and an economic divide that was not acknowledged?  There were constant reasons of denial before me.  While my family was broken in so many ways, it was more important for us to fit into a sense of normality, white middle class normality than anything else.  Souls were sold to make room for the endeavor of being a normal middle class, "white family".  It was the ultimate status symbol of my era, my family existence. I still believe this was more indicative of budding middle class white families.  I saw more black/white familial interactions in the very poor white families. I also grew up believing that my graduating class of 597 was void of any LGBTIA folks, because I was told so.  There were no spaces that you didn't have to create for yourself, if you didn't fit in nice tiny boxes.  Suppression of any feelings that didn't "fit" was the norm.  Hmmmm... I'm tired...

I'm glad I lived in the "South" believe it or not.  Ultimately, my lens was opened and refined by what I experienced.  I ran from the South to Boston, heartland of Northern sensibilities, my freedom!, or so I surmised.  Let me explain a few things about growing up in a small southern town that might go unnoticed by northern born individuals.  We lived with racism, and we also lived with blacks as neighbors, schoolmates, and playmates.  A crazy stew of difficult to understand complexities.  Yet, we lived together, yet separated by race.  In the "North", I would find much more segregation than I could have ever expected.  It seemed easy for people to claim racial equality when it wasn't a real part of their everyday lives.  That's complicated, I know, but I'm talking percentages.  There is always isolated exceptions to rules.  I would find it would be rare to have a black or Hispanic neighbor. I'm sure you can say this for large swaths of the Midwest as well.  In the south, being exposed to a hispanic family just rarely happened, except in mine.  I'm tired...

I hit Boston right before the Stewart killing incident. Do you know about this stain on northern sensibilities?  Racism was displayed in a blatantly horrible scenario.  Charles Stewart, a "white very good upper crust guy" murdered his pregnant wife and pinned it on...you guessed it... a black guy.  No one including police questioned his story early on.  After all he was a white guy with a nice job and a pregnant wife. A "good guy".  What hit me so hard was the police went through the black neighborhoods lining up "black men", fitting any general description, and treating them like criminals. Not on a one at a time basis in their living rooms or at the police station, but right there on the street in front of their neighbors and peers.  The message was clear.  A racial line in the sand was drawn.  It was a wow moment of racism being set back generations.  We didn't have the Internet in 1990, so our white eyes only heard about it in the Boston Globe front page.  When Stewart's story began to show some holes, he wasn't arrested, he jumped off a bridge and committed suicide.  No one barged into his living room, through him to the ground, and shot him.  We need to see how very far we have NOT come.  I'm tired....

Boiling Stew....

A few years later I was playing a Catholic wedding in Newton, MA and a quite unusual thing happened.  I've played hundreds upon hundreds of weddings.  This was different.  I usually always get my pay check either from the organist or a member of the bride's family before or directly after the wedding.  The organist sheepishly told me.  "Our priest collects all the checks personally and you have to go see him after the ceremony to get your check."  This is unusual, but also annoying as I sometimes have another wedding right after to get to in a hurry.  So...I go back to get my check and the Father asks me into his office, closes the door...my radar is hitting red about now...has my check in his hand and proceeds to shake my hand.  No biggy...he would not let go.  Awkward silence...I slowly started to pull very hard to get my hand back and starred him right in the face with my "get your hands off me" look, thanked him sheepishly and left as fast as my feet could go.  Later, I tried to convince myself that my creeped out meter was wrong.  Why would I be so ready to think something ill of this man.  This man was Father Paul Shanley, later convicted of child molestation in the Boston scandal.  I saw his picture on the news and threw up.

Before all this I had two run ins with Cardinal Bernard Law in Boston. The man clearly in a position to have stopped all of these men, but chose to rehabilitate Geoghan and Shanley at a church facility in Hartford, CT in secret.  Look up the timeline on all of this or watch the movie "Spotlight".

The first incident was literary I "ran into Law coming around a circular hallway in a hotel where I was performing.  I apologized...and felt guilty...he didn't even hear me as he shoved past me on his way to something important.  No big deal, but he clearly did not meet my expectations of a holy man.  My second run in with him was not really his responsibility completely.  I was hired to play for him to enter, with a trumpet fanfare, at Emmanuel College chapel for a very important event.  The organist had hired me. I was new to the area, and did it for a pretty low fee. The loft with the organ when I arrived was packed and I was relegated to the back as the organist had brought his flute playing daughter, who wasn't at the rehearsal, to the service to play as well.  She was up front and there was no room for me.  So, I suggested the organist let me know when I was to play and I would shove my way through.  This was a horrible scenario and I knew it.  So, of course, Cardinal Law decided to march in without giving the cue guy notice, as far as I could ascertain, and we missed the fanfare.  I was told a check would be sent in the mail....you guessed it.  Never arrived.  I called the organist who swore it would be in the mail soon...Never arrived....After about the 3rd go around and being consistently lied to, I did what any good Catholic would do.  I left it alone, even though I really needed the money, chalked it up to my tithing.  I'm tired....

I tried many religious endeavors.  I was raised in a Methodist church, even though when I ask my grandmother "why Methodist" she responded, "because there are no Presbyterian Churches in town". Her side of the family comes from a very long line of Presbyterians, a founder of Princeton, connects to the American Colonization Society, and several preachers, one prominent in the Revolutionary War, with children involved deeply with the ACS.  They were pillars of their communities, but not abolitionist.  They believed slavery was immoral, but they also believed they should return to Africa. My grandmother never knew anything about her family except they were everyday working class farmers.  She was very wrong.  But, that's another big story.  I'm tired...

I tried being as good as I could as a child. We weren't really a religious family.  My grandfather never stepped foot in a church for any reason except if someone died or got married, even then begrudgingly.  He was a complicated man, read the bible but didn't believe in organized religion, was not an open racist, but proudly displayed his George Wallace pin.  I prayed all the time.  My grandmother took us kids to church ever Sunday, to vacation bible school, and we played on the church softball team.  I was clearly not worthy.  Drawn to religious faith, now I understand more as a study of, than a participation, would permeate my entire life.  I took a religion course in college and realize how pivotal that class was for me.  It was taught by a brilliant professor who was an atheist.  That blew my mind.  How the hell did he get to teach religion?  This was the beginning of an open door of thought for me.  I didn't know I could open the door.  I tried every form of religion...Methodist, baptist...evangelical...even converted to Catholic and taught RCIA at a parish attached to a University campus.  What I did know is everyone I meet,who was deeply ingrained in evangelicalism was very messed up.  So much so one ended up trying to pay someone to kill off his wife so he could marry another woman, with whom he was having an affair.  Ever since knowing this guy in college he lied obsessively.  He was engaged in college to someone at another college and cheated on her like she didn't even exist, all while drinking, partying...and going to church and weekend retreats.  Another was clearly gay or bi who swore he was born again to save himself from the wrongful lust.  Luckily, these two examples keep me at a distance with faith even though I desired to believe in something.  I'm tired...


As a child, one of my earliest memories was being traumatized leaving home on a bus to go to kindergarten, literally 1/2 a mile away.  It stuck with me because I was shy and confused about my own family issues. I was born in Kentucky, lived as a newborn in a shack that didn't have running water or heat, moved to Oklahoma at 1 with my Mom and grandfather.  Once settled in Oklahoma my grandfather had a ruptured aorta and died instantly at the age of 47.  My mom and I returned to Kentucky and I was given to my grandparents.  This was just the beginning of repeated upheaval in my life.  It would continue unabated for the majority of my life.  Too much chaos would haunt me to this day.  Much later in life I would learn I suffer from anxiety (probably PTSD) around over-stimulus caused, I believe, by several other traumatic events in my life. Someday I hope to have the courage to talk about, but now it's not that important a detail.  I'm tired....

In kindergarten we took naps and there were white and black kids in my class.  One black girl would choose to be next to me and pinch me.  I was too traumatized to tell the teacher, but I told her repeatedly to stop.  Eventually she did, and I would later have white girls that would do the same.  The difference for me started there, because I kept tabs on people that connected to my life, even if I didn't understand why.  This young black girl and another that I later found an attraction to, didn't have it easy and I didn't understand why, yet.  I didn't understand how they were the same, yet different.  I would learn very fast as I got older and developed quite the skills in basketball.  I would spend every waking hour on the hoops at the school yard where my friends would challenge me to be better.  They were black boys and it never dawned on me that there was a problem.  Until my grandmother made it perfectly clear I could never play with them again.  So, began my life of lying and deception...I'm tired...

When I was in junior high and early high school my mother and twin sisters lived in a trailer right across the street from a black baptist church.  Many a night in the summer I would hear clapping and singing like I'd never heard in a white church.  I would sneak out at dark, make my way to the open windows and sit below listening.  This was my first experience of community that I didn't feel in my all white protestant church that had music and community.  It was stiff, and I never felt like I belonged.  I still can't explain why I felt like I would have belonged in that all black church.  It sounds ludicrous.  God only knows, but what I did know was the feeling of a shared experience I yearned to have deep in my soul.  I still had yet to understand the history behind the beautiful unaccompanied spirituals that touched my love of music, that would lead me to make music my life.  I don't have white sympathy for the black experience anymore.  I don't want to exist on that side of the line. I will never belong in their spaces completely, and they will never belong in mine completely, but I've learned what we do share is personhood.  I cannot be Black or Hispanic any more than they can be White.  When we learn and honor each others experiences, give each other space, and know how to respect paths we become "persons" instead of races or sexes.  I don't know if that is possible to achieve, but I do believe it's worth striving for.  I'm tired...

In early college summers I worked at a horse racing track as a cashier at a beer stand.  I worked at the stand that sold generic brands like bud, miller, stroh's, etc, outdoors but with a huge roof and concrete floors.  Next to me was the beer on tap, the cheap stuff, running all over the floors between wooden blanks..... Who served this beer, walking on planks that dripped, froth overflowing onto their hands were the black ladies.  I would come to adore these women.  They were all older and worn from life and they talked to me, why?  Because I choose to talk to them.  I was the white youngster surrounded by black old ladies, and it was sublime.  One woman who I would develop such fondness for was, I surmise, in her 60's at the time.  All of these women stood on their feet all day while I sat on a pedestal ringing up the beer.  They weren't allowed to handle the money other than to hand it to the cashier.  I felt so guilty....I needed the job and the money to be able to get back to school each year.  I wanted to scream and I knew other whites that hated it too, but we were all poor and young and afraid to speak. I was underage so I couldn't change places with them even if I wanted.  I'm tired....

From the age of 6, Ernie Armendariz was my step-father.  It was complicated because my parents were really my grandmother and step-grandfather.  If you ask me today who was really a father to me I would not hesitate to say my step-grandfather.  But, Ernie, who I really don't think anyone every really knew, including himself, was good to me.  He took me fishing all the time, so ironically, I probably spent more time with him alone than anyone except my mom who had a turbulent relationship with him that involved massive drinking.  My twin sisters suffered the most from this relationship, that I could visit and then go back home to safety, for the most part.

I grew up listening to Motown with my mom who could dance anyone off the floor...Redbone, Jose Feliciano would round out Ernie's pics. To this day, I really believe my extensive study of music came about because of this musical stew I was able to have within this conservative, republican home.  Ernie was kind of accepted, but I knew my grandparents weren't that happy he was a part of our lives.  Their grandchildren, possibly another story, to a point.  I was taken in by them to raise, my 1/2 Hispanic sisters were not.  My grandmother begged, but my grandfather said no.  So, off to California my 1/2 sisters went with a alcoholic drifter who would not know how to be an adult for this rest of his life.  I'm tired...

Mississippi in the mid 80's was an eye opening experience on so many levels.  I went to college there for two years in southern Mississippi.  I began my journey by driving from Kentucky to southern Mississippi for 14 hours all in one day.  What I saw driving through the Memphis area, close to Graceland, then Mississippi was a swath of poverty I had never experienced. It was segregated levels of poverty, with black people on the bottom.  And...oh that bottom...shacks like you see in movies that you never really believed existed, no electricity, no water.  That wasn't supposed to be happening in the 80's, maybe the 1880's.  Yet, right there, in front of your face in the moment was a walk back in a time machine.  My skin begin to itch terribly.  I'm tired....

After I'd been there less than a year a celebration was afoot.  The annual Confederate Memorial Day and Confederacy History Month was ablaze with spiffy confederate uniformed, white male students lining the streets to start the parade.  This was weird...I was raised in Kentucky and we never did anything like this..well...Kentucky was a bit less convinced during the Civil War about slavery, so maybe that's why.  I wasn't prepared for this.  I noticed there were very few black faces around a normally large black populated campus.  The faces I did see were, in my impression, shamed.  How else could I explain none of them making eye contact, many just looking at the ground and walking away to...somewhere...anywhere.  I felt like I had accidentally stepped into Peabody and Sherman's "wayback" machine.  I'm tired....

I saw the movie Purple Rain in the main auditorium on campus with a musician friend.  We seemed to be of the very few white people in the audience.  The experience was electrifying.  If you're white and you have not shared a movie with a large black crowd you have no idea what I'm talking about.  It's a community experience where you know you're in a position of minority.  You know you should be shunned and ridiculed for even thinking you should be in their space.  But, you get the opposite...no..you get a sense of community of closeness that I have never experienced in white spaces.  It's different.  Being white is a lot of uptight, self inflicted pressure.  You have no idea it's there until you are in an environment that doesn't feed off of it like a foggy, soggy presence.  Things were made very clear when we walked into the auditorium.  There were still black and white painted, old signs that said "colored" with an arrow pointing up, meaning upstairs only.  It was "history" why would I dare think TAKE IT DOWN.  But, for that time, it served a purpose for me.  It was a glaring reminder of place in the world, and how much we have avoided doing to right the ship.  You know....it's fucking time to right the SHIP!  Distasteful reminders of the past should be reconstructed, but I think the statues, signs, etc..can serve a purpose in a museum, least future generations forget.  I'm tired...

I consider myself an observer of life.  There are so many things around us to be outraged about. I've been outraged my entire life.  For others, these experiences don't affect them.  I'm not sure where the happy medium should be.  We are feed a scenario that is impossible to life up to about a perfect world that has never existed, yet we have collectively shoved history into what we want, not what we see. When I get outraged, like above, I remind myself of EVERYONE who came before me, and are living today, that have lived what I can only observe and feel in a secondary sense. Life is PROFOUND now, then, and tomorrow.  My life of observance is a pittance of obligation to truth.  All I can do is bear witness...write...feel...love.  I know no other way.  And..yes...I need a good editor, but that's not what a blog is all about.

I had a lot to say, apparently.....