Tuesday, January 20, 2009
On This Day
A few memories have popped to the surface today:
I was embarassed when our cocker-spaniel would consistently bark at a black person.
An evening, when my parents were out to dinner, when I turned on all the lights in the house and hid under the coffee table because the TV was reporting that blacks were marching into white neighborhoods and rioting.
A Thanksgiving dinner when I was mad because my grandparent's black maid, Murphy, had to eat her Thanksgiving dinner alone in the kitchen.
"Whites Only" signs above water fountains.
Being horrified watching news reports of blacks being beaten by police and sprayed by the forceful water from fire trucks.
The first two black students to be allowed to go to my high school.
The first black family to move into our neighborhood - and the stir it caused.
The only black student my freshman year in college.
I remember coming to understand that the way things were was wrong, and believing that it just couldn't stay that way. That, ultimately, people had to be better than that.
These thoughts are swimming in my head as I try to put today's Presidential inauguration in perspective.
Earlier today I got a little frustrated. There are those who aren't pleased that Barack Obama is now our president and, with the ability to publicly voice one's opinion no further away than a keyboard, are very vocal via forums such as Twitter and Facebook.
As my memories of a time of egregious inequality, hatred, and fear bubbled to the surface, I became increasingly annoyed by those who do not seem to be able to set cynicism aside for a moment - just a relatively tiny moment - and allow this historic day to sink in.
I told them to shut-the-fuck up.
They didn't.
I won't hold it against them. After all, we have the right to express opinion in this country - along with the right to disagree. I can't help but observe, though, those who are being so negatively vocal today were born and have come of age in a time when the signs above the water fountains are no longer there; their schoolmates were a salad of different races and cultures; and Martin Luther King, Jr. means an extra day off work.
They are fortunate, indeed.
Will President Barack Hussein Obama be the leader our country so desperately needs right now? There is time to debate that - another day than today. On this day, I choose to be idealistic and hopeful. To let the weight of this historic moment sink in.
Tomorrow - we get to work.
I was embarassed when our cocker-spaniel would consistently bark at a black person.
An evening, when my parents were out to dinner, when I turned on all the lights in the house and hid under the coffee table because the TV was reporting that blacks were marching into white neighborhoods and rioting.
A Thanksgiving dinner when I was mad because my grandparent's black maid, Murphy, had to eat her Thanksgiving dinner alone in the kitchen.
"Whites Only" signs above water fountains.
Being horrified watching news reports of blacks being beaten by police and sprayed by the forceful water from fire trucks.
The first two black students to be allowed to go to my high school.
The first black family to move into our neighborhood - and the stir it caused.
The only black student my freshman year in college.
I remember coming to understand that the way things were was wrong, and believing that it just couldn't stay that way. That, ultimately, people had to be better than that.
These thoughts are swimming in my head as I try to put today's Presidential inauguration in perspective.
Earlier today I got a little frustrated. There are those who aren't pleased that Barack Obama is now our president and, with the ability to publicly voice one's opinion no further away than a keyboard, are very vocal via forums such as Twitter and Facebook.
As my memories of a time of egregious inequality, hatred, and fear bubbled to the surface, I became increasingly annoyed by those who do not seem to be able to set cynicism aside for a moment - just a relatively tiny moment - and allow this historic day to sink in.
I told them to shut-the-fuck up.
They didn't.
I won't hold it against them. After all, we have the right to express opinion in this country - along with the right to disagree. I can't help but observe, though, those who are being so negatively vocal today were born and have come of age in a time when the signs above the water fountains are no longer there; their schoolmates were a salad of different races and cultures; and Martin Luther King, Jr. means an extra day off work.
They are fortunate, indeed.
Will President Barack Hussein Obama be the leader our country so desperately needs right now? There is time to debate that - another day than today. On this day, I choose to be idealistic and hopeful. To let the weight of this historic moment sink in.
Tomorrow - we get to work.
Labels: Obama
Posted at 1:41 PM | |
Monday, January 5, 2009
Auld Lang Syne
Ah. Well. Here I sit - and have been for a couple of minutes while listening to the first couple of spins off the last.fm wheel of fortune: John Hammond - Buzz Federline segued into Ludovico Einaudi - Fuori dalla notte... I don't think there's a better illustration of the flaky layers of my psyche...
The joke was on me this morning when I rushed out the door and to school only to discover school does not start until tomorrow. My two week hiatus had a bonus day. And with that bonus day went any further excuse for avoiding this space and picking the lint out of my navel.
So here I am. Pecking away at the the keyboard trying to figure out how I can summarize the last few months without wallowing in a slough of murky self pity...
It's a funny thing about depression. It's depressing.
Since typing that last sentence, Norah Jones, Eliza Gilykson, Eric Clapton, Johnny Lang and Jarvis Cocker have serenaded me.
I don't seem to be able to wallow. Doggonit...
Doc Watson just sang to me:
That does a good job of summing up. No need to provide details.
This is a hard bicycle to get going... I've long been out of the habit and discipline ofwriting (can I really call it writing? I think not - to do so insults those who have that talent and gift - let's scratch that and say, instead) scribbling. It may take me a few pushes to get back up on the wheels...
I think I will leave it at that and, for the time being, point you to a few folks who provide barrels of inspiration for me as Donna the Buffalo reminds me to "wake up and light the tree that you're on" - truer words... I expect to be back here more often now. Hope you'll join me.
The following blogs are consistent must reads for me. I know two of the authors personally - two guys on opposite ends of the life pole who, but for a common passion, might never have met and become comrades at arms.
One channels Hunter S. Thompson and is living life on the razor's edge, honestly and with no apology. He splashes his life onto the canvas with abandon and color and when he gets it - he gets it. Raw and uncensored.
The other uncannily and consistently gets inside my head - he is journalist, writer, photographer, family man, with a rogue-ish side, who lives a private life in a public way.
All four authors have that gift with their writing that elevates their personal experiences to a level of reflection that is universal and relatable. We share their lives through their words and are rewarded with insights into our own. Have a read or two or three while I do a little housecleaning. I'll be back.
The joke was on me this morning when I rushed out the door and to school only to discover school does not start until tomorrow. My two week hiatus had a bonus day. And with that bonus day went any further excuse for avoiding this space and picking the lint out of my navel.
So here I am. Pecking away at the the keyboard trying to figure out how I can summarize the last few months without wallowing in a slough of murky self pity...
It's a funny thing about depression. It's depressing.
Since typing that last sentence, Norah Jones, Eliza Gilykson, Eric Clapton, Johnny Lang and Jarvis Cocker have serenaded me.
I don't seem to be able to wallow. Doggonit...
Doc Watson just sang to me:
...for I thought myself lucky to be alive.
That does a good job of summing up. No need to provide details.
This is a hard bicycle to get going... I've long been out of the habit and discipline of
I think I will leave it at that and, for the time being, point you to a few folks who provide barrels of inspiration for me as Donna the Buffalo reminds me to "wake up and light the tree that you're on" - truer words... I expect to be back here more often now. Hope you'll join me.
The following blogs are consistent must reads for me. I know two of the authors personally - two guys on opposite ends of the life pole who, but for a common passion, might never have met and become comrades at arms.
One channels Hunter S. Thompson and is living life on the razor's edge, honestly and with no apology. He splashes his life onto the canvas with abandon and color and when he gets it - he gets it. Raw and uncensored.
The other uncannily and consistently gets inside my head - he is journalist, writer, photographer, family man, with a rogue-ish side, who lives a private life in a public way.
All four authors have that gift with their writing that elevates their personal experiences to a level of reflection that is universal and relatable. We share their lives through their words and are rewarded with insights into our own. Have a read or two or three while I do a little housecleaning. I'll be back.
Rapid Eye Reality
Tao of Pauly
Waiter Rant
Anthony Bourdain
Labels: Life
Posted at 10:41 AM | |
