And so it was that when I was about 13 I went to see Adelaide the psychic whose name my family had been passing around for a while and she told me two things which stuck with me all the way through until that time when I was trying to make the decision whether to break my engagement with Chris and be with James or listen to my mom and stay the course through the uncertainty and into a marriage which by now of course would have already ended. The first thing Adelaide told me was that one day I’d be writing a book, and the second thing she told me is that one day a man with blue eyes would say goodbye to me and I might never stop crying. As fortune would have it, I looked for that blue-eyed boy for many years, hoping for a love that was so deep I’d cry forever at its loss, thinking
And sometimes it’s true that the things you believe you need in order to be joyous aren’t the right things at all, and so it is that I’m standing in Einstein bagels this morning getting breakfast for my kids experiencing an epiphanic moment. Because in my former life, I was a married, stay-at-home mom—whose hobby basically amounted to filling up her spare time with activities–and I can remember standing in line at Einstein bagels during that life with a “gettin’ ‘er done” attitude, as if getting my kids bagels was just the prep for the bigger parenting moments yet to come; as if standing in line, waiting for my nova lox on plain, crossing “nutritious breakfast” off my to-do list, was devoid of meaning unless accompanied by the million things I was reciting in my head that I’d obviously still need to do in order to be a good parent. But ten years out, I’m now experiencing a life in
[706 words; 3 min. 31 sec; Janis Joplin, nonconformity, changing the world with your story]
Sometimes I think it happens that Time becomes a weird entity, mashing together events of totally different origins and reconvening them as if they were occurring together, right then, into a singular story, clear in connection, real and provable. Maybe it’s a Tune in,
[521 words, 2 min 36 sec; 9/11]
Fifteen years ago to the day, my ex and I were in Reno. We’d driven the 8 hours with our then-2 year and 10 month old daughters, Julia and Livy, to combine James’ business trip with a visit with my mom, who’d driven from California to meet us. Courtesy of my
And the Dead played this song at that concert in 1992, and even though some fans said they were sellouts since the song was so mainstream, we all danced to it that night anyways because even then we knew labeling a song like that was really our own mind trapping itself in a mind-control of its own judgment plus the LSD had kicked in and nothing brings about the feeling of soul-family, never-ending unity and freakshow-dancing faster than small squares of drug-laced paper. My mom had done her part to keep me off psychedelics by repeatedly relaying the story about the time that guy spiked her Coca Cola with acid (she went psychotic, and tried to escape out the half-window of an old Studebaker). But in 1992, I had already been under the influence of Dr. Tart at UC Davis studying altered states of consciousness’s–taking part in his intro course which was basically a 3-month long hit-piece against mainstream psychology AND
Bernie Sanders is a great man who fought for justice in our nation for 30 years (only to then be cheated out of it with regards to justice for himself), and — even after the now-admitted corruption by the DNC — some Dems in the resulting anti-Trump panic are referring to his angry, protesting supporters as “inappropriate”, “classless”, and “overly emotional,” (not to mention the classic “ridiculous”) and condescending to our grief as if they alone can tend to the faint and flickering pulse of our nation, so I jotted down a few things in case it could help clarify the mindset of Sanders’ supporters through all of the armchair psychology and utterly-useless “calm down”’s I keep seeing:
In the course of human history, significant changes in the flow of society haven’t occurred when its individual participants have “calmed down” or conformed to the societal demands of etiquette; societal change has happened because large groups of individuals have somehow collectively come to similar realizations simultaneously, and while this can be an uncomfortable sight for those not also experiencing those realizations, I feel certain that it doesn’t benefit a society to allow conformity to dictate the broader direction it moves in, for I’m sure there were many who thought the participants of the civil rights movement and Vietnam war protests were overly emotional, and that the impolite tactics often instituted during major reforms deemed distasteful and inappropriate; a godforsaken slope that led to such things as slaves being beaten in the barn out of sight of the houseguests it might upset. For even this recent American history tells us that sometimes “passion” looks like “emotionality” to those on the outside of a movement looking in, and some could even make the argument that it is the lack of emotionality in the form of malaise that more quickly leads to the moral and ethical downfall of a civilization.
In the big scheme of things when you look at these people who you’re describing as overly emotional, it doesn’t actually matter if you understand why they act that way, why they’re emotional; it doesn’t matter if you agree or disagree with their feelings; the fact of the matter is is that this is the way they feel. Period. Whether you personally feel the same or understand it at all is not the point. Because the bigger picture is why any of this is happening at all, and the questions that should be asked when 13 million of your fellow citizens fuel a presidential campaign with their own time and money, is this: Are they all just fucking nuts, or is there something legitimately upsetting going on that is making them fight so hard for a common cause?, and if at any point you find yourself trying to answer the former, then welcome to “Societal Anesthetization.” For sitting in your chair acting like Dr. Spock talking to Captain Kirk doesn’t help, and the reality right now — whether you like it or not — is that the Dems are going to need a huge portion of Bernie’s demographics in order to beat back the almost-certainly certifiable Republican candidate so please go-ahead and take your dose of “shut the fuck up” right now. Because you’re going to need it to get through the next 99 days.
Because Bernie Sanders has taught us that you can be strong in the face of a society which isn’t quite “there” yet if only you hold to the broader goal of reducing the suffering you see in the world, and, in the end, your derision and condescension mean little except as an admission of your own sedation, and take it from us Berners: if you can’t allow yourself anger in the face of admitted corruption and injustice, then you are basically allowing yourself to cower in the corner and die the enormous soul-death that comes when you give up striving for what’s right. So forgive me the fuck ever if I take a pass on that, and stand up and fight and embarrass your “polite society” by being what is — in your opinion — an overly emotional asshole.
[Postscript, for complete clarity:
I’m not crazy and would vote for Clinton if I wasn’t in a deep red state which will most likely go to Johnson (it could be a toss-up though actually–the Mormons hate Trump–so I have to revisit this topic periodically; don’t want to inadvertently give my vote to Trump).
This isn’t about Hillary personally (for me, at least): it’s about the insulation that the elite/the system have been afforded for too long at the expense of broader society, including extremely vulnerable populations which literally grow by double digit percentages every year. This year, for example, the Salt Lake City homeless shelter served as many people by May 26, 2016 as it did for the entire year of 2015. Students are coming to school hungry and traumatized because our lifestyles are on the razors edge, and I’ve personally seen parents repeatedly pick up their kids up totally high and in clear sight and awareness of school admin and nothing is done because there is no one to call to help these addicted parents and no beds anywhere for getting them mental health assistance. And people aren’t recognizing it or are blaming the vulnerable for character defects that usually aren’t there or blame Republicans for their inability to be reasonable when really this is a problem with the system wherein money is being hoarded and populations held at bay with excuses and justifications. And society can’t go on like this.
There will be a tipping point; I already see that we are getting close to it. And it is scary. When people have nothing to lose and when inequality becomes normalized, they take their frustrations out in ways which harm the stability of our society as well as our own mental health (insidiously, so as we don’t even realize) and there has to be a better way than what we’re doing now. Because mowing people down with firearms has now become de rigueur, and when a Donald Trump is the figurehead for millions of angry citizens, we have to acknowledge that we are clearly living within a failed system.
Anyways, don’t worry: Hill will get my vote should it come to that. You aren’t privy to my Facebook posts which outline my views on this situation but I go into the fact that Trump is clearly dangerous, and a third party vote pointless so, in spite of my rage at the lawlessness that our democracy has become, I know where my truth lies.]
[450 words, 2 min.15 sec.; current events, politics]
Just read an article on Slate where the author added snarky captions to pictures of last night’s crying Bernie delegates, some of whom looked so young that they certainly have never known a day without the struggles brought on by daily gun violence, 9/11, and the great recession.
[512 words; 2 min.33 sec. America, nostalgia, current events]
I’ve been listening to this song all day and thinking about America.
I remember sitting in a car with my mother circa 1993, and being called on to defend my ex-husbands adopted Korean sisters because to mom all Asians were forever tainted by Pearl Harbor,
[414 words; 2 minutes; American pride, nostalgia, what being American means]
Worked (all felines: Izzy, Jack, Piper, Clark, Lucy, Darko, Todd, Burt, Mica—love them all); Graham and Lauren, Ellen and Julia, Ellen’s friend ending his Ramadan today; kittens; hard lemonade, shitty Malbec, salsa, chips, guacamole, ohdeargodwhydidIeatsomuch;
[855 wirdsl 4 min 15 sec.; humor; allergies]
Seven years ago, I caught a cold that wouldn’t go away. The runny nose left me dehydrated and exhausted and was accompanied by sneezes so powerful that my eyes would explode like volcanos of hot, mascara’ed saltiness while twin rivers of black gook…