I started out early. My voicemail had a message. Since I do not get many calls, there's a always a good chance that something happened to Mother. She is 95, I am 65, and my son is 35 (that's how I remember it).
This time it was just an automated phone survey from my insurance provider.
Mother said my cousin P. had visited her in the nursing home. Apparently, he has a job interviewing residents. Mother and P. conducted a ten-minute formal interview. Although they recognized each other, they stayed in character throughout the interview, until P. left. Mother wasn't sure what it was about. Nevertheless, it is good that she was amused.
Back in Time
M. was not going to have time to make dinner, so I was supposed to bring takeout home. She wanted her hamburger well-done. I put the order in, -- M. was supposed to have the hamburger with bacon, mine with all the normal toppings. There was something else she wanted but it didn't make sense, so I ... forgot about it.
A change in kitchen staff caused the order to be lost.
I reordered. After about ten minutes, it seemed as though the order was lost again. I tried to ask the worker, who was busy tackling some other problem. Eventually, another cook came back and said, "Let's see...You had this hamburger, right? " handing me a small bun with a tiny greasy hamburger in it, that looked like it had been returned by another customer.
Frightened that it was getting late, I abandoned this order, jumped back into the car and decided to call an order in ahead to the next food stop. I still had another hour on the road, so this made sense, regardless of any other disharmonic circumstances.
Ever get tired of worrying about endless wars, economic decline, and the rise of demagogues in the United States?
Take a trip to Blueberry Park, in Tacoma, WA, where anyone can pick free blueberries.
It was an overcast morning, nice cool weather for picking when I took a bike ride there today. There are a few hundred blueberry bushes -- many the size of trees --, as well as wild blackberry sources nearby, and probably other things I don't know about.
This place is probably as cosmopolitan as Niagara Falls, Canada: I could hear multiple languages, including Russian, German, Spanish, and some others I couldn't make out. Not being much of a conversationalist myself, I stayed pretty much out of people's way and just minded my own business.
That's easy to do when you've got bushes to hide in. I did talk to one stranger briefly, but then we drifted out of sight, and I just enjoyed the company of my own thoughts as I looked for the bluer specimens. A man passed by pushing a baby carriage, and the rider peered out at me curiously.
Sometimes it's hard to see whether a particular berry is really blue until it's too late and I've picked it off the bush. But if I throw it away, Nature is probably going to make use of it somehow anyway.
On the ride back, I noticed on someone's front yard a beautiful bush that had probably benefited from last night's generous rainfall.
Someone said a while ago that he visited my "blog", and there was "nothing there ". Actually, I think the question is, does this blog exist if no one comes here.
While walking about Seattle, we passed a store with beautiful vintage artprints for sale. On the back wall, our guest spotted a poster that resembled the one I have pictured here. No one in our group could translate the words at the top.
Our guest said he believed they were in a Catalonian dialect of Spain. This was apparently because the spelling of the word "Cataloghi" looked to him like "Catalonian" (??).
Having had one semester of Italian, I thought the words looked Italian even if I could not remember what they meant. As it turns out, the language is Italian, and the phrase roughly translates to "Sold Also in Installments Catalogs Free"
They say that "art is the silent music." Is this an example?
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I. Craziness Defined I was reading the syndicated column of Pulitzer-prize winner Leonard Pitts, recently on the topic of the notorious slip-up that ended her career. Pitts had been an admirer of Ms. Thomas, but he could not give her a pass on this remark. Also, he realized that his past admiration has been less than critical: "Besides, we are told by Thomas' peers in the White House press corps that there is nothing new about the anti-Semitism she displayed. To the contrary, it was apparently very well known to her colleagues. As Jonah Goldberg of the National Review Online told Washington Post media critic Howard Kurtz, ``She's always said crazy stuff.' ' "
Jonah Goldberg, who wrote and published a bizarro history book called "Liberal Fascism", with a funny Hitler mustache on it??? A good judge of craziness? He might be familiar with it. |
II. Reflections on July 4th
The Gulf disaster is "free enterprise." Corporate types know how to set up a profit center, often with the help of heavy government subsidies (even as they argue against entitlements for "people".) But ecological disaster is outside of their focus.
The same negligence, if repeated by the nuclear power industry, will be exponentially worse, -- if that can be fathomed. Right now, corporations and their pocketed politicians are moving to loosen safety restrictions on nuclear power development, with the fawning media dutifully following down this non-garden path. Only recently, an economist interviewed by NPR stated that the damage in Chernobyl amounted to nothing more than the loss of a few fire engines. Where does NPR find these people?
In discussions of nuclear power issues, scientists seem to be under-represented. Maybe that's a carry-over from the Bush years. Most assuredly, once the new generation of "fail-safe" nuclear installations are built, and the unthinkable happens, the developers, investors, and their handmaiden economists will then prove as powerless as British Petroleum.
The shadow government of corporate influence reaches its tentacles into the military sphere. Bloated military budgets, rationalized by "national security", are music to a politician's ear. Here, the highest cost will be paid by civilians. This is borne out by any statistic since the Civil War.
As we struggle in a quagmire of never-ending war, military scientists and contractors will design greater and greater havoc. And who will help us?
Am I crazy? Yes, because I believed America had ideals.
It was a beautiful day and Mary and I set out in the sparkling sun for Fox Island, where some pipers and I helped to celebrate a wedding in a place called the "Chapel on Echo Bay". The pipes could not have found a more lovely setting than at this ceremony here on the water's edge.
These pipers were very skillful, and one of them played the pennywhistle as well.
I told them that my daughter had used bagpipes at her wedding, -- that she originally had wanted drums also, but that the piper had not been comfortable using a drummer.
Hiring a drummer, they agreed, can be problematic. A drummer who keeps time, and stays out of the way, would be a good drummer.
I was given a shady spot by the wall which shielded me from the sun. There was no breeze, but I felt comfortable.
The pipers played until all guests were seated, and the groom and officiant were in their places. Then I played "Over the Rainbow" on solo violin for the procession of the wedding party.
For recessional music, I chose Charpentier, and Rejouissance (Handel). After a few more baroque violin solos, it was time to turn it back over to the pipers, who were now setting up in the parking lot.
Everyone seemed pleased with the ceremony, -- especially the bride.
I wanted to get into a more artistic frame of mind, and drawing exercises often help to lead me in that direction.
These drawings were a reprise of previous efforts to draw from photographs. It's a lot different from actual life, and one reason I think is that I see with both eyes, whereas the camera sees with only one. But that is a real simplistic analysis and I'm sure others are available.
The ink drawing was made with a typical office rolling ball pen. The pen was not as responsive as I had hoped. Anyway, illustrating in ink was a very rigid experience for me, as I had to get everything right the first time and there were no second chances.
I had the first drawing around and displayed on the wall a couple of weeks before I undertook to try the next one. I have to admit that even though the picture does not do justice to the subject, I found it somehow comforting and reassuring to have this image on display. Maybe it has some art value beyond mere illustration. Or maybe it's just a facet of my relationship to the subject. Or both. Or neither.
I am fairly happy with what I have accomplished in a relatively short time. And thanks to a relative's framing request, I am learning to mat things using free equipment in the community art studio. And yes, this drawing exercise has helped me to see more esthetically. The weather's getting nicer too.

The second drawing is in charcoal. Whatever you may say about these drawings, you have to admit that it is obvious who the subject is.
My next step may be to attend local painting classes, as long as I don't have to pay a huge tuition.
So I welcome any comments. After all, you are here at this website staring at this blog, so why not tell me what's on your mind?
Winter in America: Democracy Gone Rogue
by: Henry A. Giroux,
t r u t h o u t | Op-Ed
March 4, 2010
The absolute ... spells doom to everyone when it is introduced into the political realm.- Hannah Arendt [1]
Democracy in the United States is experiencing both a crisis of meaning and a legitimation crisis. As the promise of an aspiring democracy is sacrificed more and more to corporate and military interests, democratic spheres have largely been commercialized and democratic practices have been reduced to market relations, stripped of their worth and subject to the narrow logics of commodification and profit making. Empowerment has little to do with providing people with the knowledge, skills, and power to shape the forces and institutions that bear down on their lives and is now largely defined as under the rubric of being a savvy consumer. When not equated with the free market capitalism, democracy is reduced to the empty rituals of elections largely shaped by corporate money and indifferent to relations of power that make a mockery out of equality, democratic participation and collective deliberation.
As the technology becomes more advanced, the drones will be mounted with taser guns, rubber bullets and other non-lethal weaponry in order to contain allegedly unruly individuals and crowds.[12] High-tech weapons have already been used on American protests and as the state relies more and more on military values, money and influence to shape its most basic institutions, the use of organized violence against civilians will become more commonplace. For instance, at the 2009 G20 summit of world leaders, democracy took a hit as the Pittsburgh police used sonic canons against protesters.[13] These high-tech weapons were used previously by the US military against Somali pirates and Iraqi insurgents and create sounds loud enough to damage eardrums and potentially produce fatal aneurysms. In public schools, surveillance has become so widespread that one school in Rosemont, Pennsylvania, issued over 1,800 laptops to high school students and then used the Webcams fitted on the computers to spy on students. The mainstream media hardly blinked and the public yawned.A little while ago, I was drinking from a glass of water, and noticed a small speck of something floating in it that looked much as a piece of cracker would look if it were that small.
Sts. Peter and Paul is a Polish parish in Tacoma, WA. I went to a mass last Sunday. I am not catholic, or Polish, or even religious, but I did want to check out the cultural values and traditions at this site, and see the insides of the church.
The English mass is at 9:00 and the Polish mass is at 11:00. I went to the Polish mass, because I want to practice hearing Polish. I studied Polish in the Army Language School back in the 60's, to become a language "specialist", even though I never became a super-linguist. I can read a Polish newspaper or simple book, and I can pronounce pretty well, but understanding spoken Polish on the spot is more challenging for me.
This church is well cared for. Once inside, the first thing I admired were the stained-glass windows. I'm guessing that maybe these windows predate the existing building, and were originally in some other structure, e.g., the old building nearby which apparently serves as a church-hall. (That building still has the original cornerstones, proving that this is a long-standing Polish community.)
It seemed like the mass was very traditional. It proceeded very formally and no-nonsense, though, predictably, I could not understand much of what was said. Only a couple of times I heard the words "na wieki", and a few numbers that were apparently dates that the priest was citing in announcements. Other than that, you could have told me it was English spoken backwards and I would have believed you. I'm so gullible.
There were no books in the pews to follow the liturgy, but there were hymnals provided, with the words only, so I did my best to sing along with the hymns. My vocal powers in this scenario are pretty weak. I have played in Polish masses and concerts back in Buffalo, and I have especially good memories of playing concerts of Polish and other European choral music under the baton of Tom Witakowski, a professor of music at Buffalo State College. So it's embarrassing that I can't sing very well.
Once the parishioners departed I was able to take some pictures as mementos. It was serendipitous that the weather brightened up just as the mass ended. In fact, it was a balmy 56 degrees outside and when the sun is shining in Tacoma this feels warm.
The hills in Tacoma are high, like San Francisco. Outside the church and up a short block, the street ends, and there is a old cement staircase rising up a high hill, which looks to me like it should lead to some outdoor shrine. But once at the top, there is only an abandoned school building.
A Digression
Although I am not religious, I am aware that the Polish Catholic church played a significant role in ending Communist domination in Poland. And I remember also that Catholic priests and nuns in Latin America gave their lives for the cause of social justice.
That is why I am particularly disturbed by the spread of right-wing extremism in the Catholic church.
For decades, the Catholic Campaign for Human Development (CCHD) has worked to empower people in low-income communities. Despite CCHD's successes, the Catholic Right is now trying to discredit the program and take away its funding. Just last week, a coalition of anti-social justice groups launched a petition campaign calling on the U.S. Catholic Bishops to suspend all national CCHD grants.
Right-wing propaganda is spreading lies at an alarming rate, and not just within the Catholic Church. Recently, I learned of an upcoming "History Channel" show on the Kennedys that grossly distorts history with the intent of trashing the Kennedys and their Catholic faith.
Words matter, and so does history. It is this type of media hate-mongering that lead to the slaughter in Rwanda, and it can happen in this country too.