Crossed Paths (Travel Tales circa 1980's) - PROSE

Friends made and lost

Twenty something
non-American citizen
back-packing in Europe
recollections relegated to flashes of memory
a few names remembered, most long forgotten
images captured in notes and slide photos
or held in grey matter

recently graduated law students from Denver and Bologna
spoke of the uncertainty of what's next

the helpful ferry conductor in Bruges
who lived in San Francisco
made being detained at the frontier
more than passable

a retiree met at the front of the church of our lady
Michelangelo's Madonna
sole sculpture outside of Italy
can be found and spoken of
with so few words

a young dentist from Bern encountered in Madrid
Puerto Rican writer on the train
sharing Fundador, speaking on the promise of America
two boys from Porto met in Carcasonne
along with Gerd of Hamburg and Pascal from Paris
breaking bread and sharing my first screw top bottle of wine
it seemed newly minted men from University were on the road

an office worker from Tokyo
a soldier from Israel happened upon on the Grand Canal
while we walk spoke of the Doge, the Piazza
Byzantine architecture and their rule
Julian of Johannesburg
in Munich, the Olympiad and Dachau became our destination

Near the Vatican, a Filipino family touring with their daughter
who lived in Zurich
during my visit enroute to kin in W Germany
words on paper prose for a tree
written while sitting in her kitchen

travel memories seep in
uninvited and welcomed
stoking heart memories

©det

KC MO (Travel Tales)

New to me and notable: Did you know Hallmark the purveyor of greeting cards is based in Kansas City MO (KC MO)? Complete with its Museum housing all the TV commercials hawking its products, a city’s tourist destination. Coming into Downtown, the trains lined up pointing in the direction of the central business district (perhaps to off load/on load the State’s agricultural products including cattle) with the train tracks running parallel to a major traffic artery, an interstate along the Missouri River is distinct. Then one passes the Folgers Coffee roasting facility, and Garmin’s headquarters are footnotes. A newly opened Opera building, contemporary in design, looks like a giant electric turbine (harnessing the water’s energy, akin to WPA projects of past) is striking across the horizon. Such is the cityscape.

Looking at a US map, it appears KC MO is the center or “middle” of the country. The metropolitan area is populated with 2 million people. This place is noted for Kansas style BBQ (wrongly attributed to other side of the river) and jazz as its major contribution to American life. Though after a few days visit one still does not feel there is a there “there.”

Locals with whom I’ve struck conversations say life is easy, affordable, and KC suffers from an inferiority complex. Locals speak of the giant cow, the city’s mascot, signaling it still is a cow town. On exit, one cannot fail to notice the Hereford Association building, trumpeting cattle is raised here.

The newest proposed urban redevelopment project will be the conversion of the one-time Hyatt Regency into a Sheraton, and another of its property the Westin at the end of the “Link” will be rehabbed and upgraded. Both are showing their age and wear. 70’s architecture of concrete, glass and steel made to look like Eastern European proletarian structures. Why not tear it down and start over again?

The Hyatt Regency is noted for the internal collapse of its walk way/passage spanning the residential tower and its meeting/convention space. The fourth floor “gang plank” dropped onto the 2nd and down onto the ground floor. It is said this was the most tragic incident in KC MO history. http://ethics.tamu.edu/ethics/hyatt/hyatt1.htm

The reader might ask, what were you doing in KC MO? I was a speaker at a conference in mid July on Gambling Addiction and Substance Abuse, allowing me to stop in on this American city.

A Filipino in New Orleans

During my most recent visit to NOLA and strolling in the Quarters (French Market, Bourbon St), on numerous occasions I ran across the Philippine flag's color as backdrop to the recognizable 3 Fleur de Lis emblem of New Orleans. These flags/banners were flown by merchants in the fronts of their businesses. I wondered if these sightings are associated to comments made in past visits when people whom I met and chatted with, upon learning I am Filipino warmly volunteered “someone in my family” is Filipino (by marriage).

Reflecting on these incidences potential meaning, I read up on Filipinos in New Orleans. There is a written reference in Harper's Weekly during late 1800's (cited in Wikipedia) discussing the Manilamen along the shores. I remembered a librarian from the University of New Orleans giving a talk (during my undergraduate years) on the same topic Manilamen and their settlements near and around the Orleans Parish. These were Filipino men who off-boarded from the Spanish galleon fleet, near what we now recognize as New Orleans. My fellow countrymen settled in St. Malo, Jefferson, St. Bernard, and Plaquemines Parishes.

What does this mean for me? Beyond, I feel comfortable here. A contributing source to these feeling can be attributed to A, a dear and old friend who resettled here, and fostered my many discoveries. My first memory of New Orleans centers in waiting for her and the U-Haul’s arrival, the year before Katrina. I volunteered to drive down from Boston with her, and we agreed instead I would help her unload her belongings into her home (previously her grandmother’s) in the seventh ward. New Orleans struck me as welcoming and vaguely familiar.

Back in my stroll, I begin to wonder if the range of skin tones contributed to feelings of somehow belonging, or whether others related to my facial features, marking me as a possible inhabitant/resident past or current. Musings of a traveler who experience a sense of place like nowhere else I’ve been. Having been in many cities in the US and abroad, I find myself drawn to this place, a most ‘not American city” in the country.

Separately, I observe the relative ease in how people live their lives. Whether during the heat of summer, the temperate fall and early winter and during the holidays I’ve found myself celebrating with A, often I see families with young children and elders together. And it is not uncommon for folks to greet one another in the streets, or stores, pulling over their car and inquiring about family and kin.

On this recent trip, A and I visited many of her local haunts, including shrimp and crab palaces/shacks below the Interstate; Bullits a local dive bar where neighborhood “Creole men” can often be found; Bywater (near the Industrial Canal and old Miss river) where many local migrants resettled since it was not affected by the floods of Katrina. Changes in the immediate neighborhoods of the 7th ward are becoming apparent, more people, more street lights are lit, and roads are being repaved.

Among my cherished memories in this last visit is the taste of “Creole Tamale,” where the vendor instead of corn husk used parchment paper. Throughout my food adventures the subtle but richly spiced New Orleans style was front and center in my palate. Spicy different from hot, associated to the pepper heat, familiar to us who enjoy Mexican, Vietnamese, Indian or sometimes Thai food. Nawhlins cooking is a richly blended flavor giving the food both complexity and heat. A case in point, on the 4th, on our way to the airport, we stopped at a coworker and friend of Ginger’s for a BBQ. We sat outside, had a pile of “memorable” bbq’d chicken and pork. It was savory, sweetened by the tomato based sauce, managing to taste smoky and peppery. I chowed down as A described, noting my finger licking action, the mound of red beans and rice, and potato salad which complimented the meal.

As a traveler, I find ways to better understand inchoate impressions adding to my sense of the place. Of all the cities in the US I've seen through work and wanderings, Nawhlins stands out. Is the magic special to this place, its notable practice of Voodoo, entered my conscientiousness?

Single and the Dating Life: More Tips for the Dating again Set

A (mental) list maker, thought to expand an earlier Dating (again) Tips.

Grooming habits for the man who does not see himself as “metro sexual” (personal hygiene, manscaping or man-tainance); a bath seems to be something men rarely do. Missing out on the restorative value of a bath with Epsom salt (magnesium sulfate), known amongst many as a curative and a relaxant. Being relaxed at a first date is essential. The meeting is already laden with anticipation, unspoken expectations, and a pull to simply have a good time. Why not start out in a calm state. Go for it, draw a warm bath, add Epsom salt, bubbles and bring your rubber ducky –let it be fun.

During the prep phase, consider exfoliating by use of salt scrub, face scrub or mask. Gently get rid of the old skin, you will achieve a natural glow. You will be surprise how black heads and other "face" related concerns can be soothed away. The intention is to feel your best and you will look your best. Secondarily, help yourself maintain a more youthful look.

I do not mean for grooming to be a compulsive habit, but a practice that gives you an added boost of self-confidence. It also marks for you, a date's importance in your social life.

A friend commented after reading an earlier post; speak to "how do you get into the dating pool." For those reticent to simply dive in head first, what can you do after exhausting your friend and family network?

For some, signing on to OKcupid and match dot com are their first inclination, online dating services are just one of a few options for a busy working person.

There are many greet and meet whilst participating in favored activities sponsored by various organizations i.e. scrabble and board game players, tennis and other sports, hiking and walking groups, wine and dine. Give a call, sign up for an activity, and meet new people.

Another is the classic "water dispense/coffee maker" chat among other singles or recently married coworkers. They are not necessarily your friend per se, but they may have ideas on what to do, and where to go meet other singles. Those recalling/ relishing their more recent memories of single-hood may have places that come to mind faster than your roommate.

Something about dating rules, are in order. In the age of post sexual revolution, information age, transitory work/home life, what are good standards to abide by? When both sexes can asks someone out, going Dutch (paying your own way) is a real option, who calls and who plans? It doesn't matter. If the other person does not know you are interested, there will be no next step.

Be first, ask. Let the other person know of your interest in getting to know them etc... If it’s coffee or Happy Hour (HH), no harm done in making a move and getting it started. Can I call you again? I sense anxiety among readers rising, avoiding rejection, temper it with the pluses. You had the courage of your conviction; if the answer is yes, you have an opportunity to explore the infatuation you have held or the spark of interest which caught your attention at the start. As they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained. In our mid-years, no is simply a no. Try not to pile on your baggage.

Before I close, another friend commented on text-ing to ask someone out. She considered it cowardly, though you may not agree; your voice comes across as a human being interested in meeting another person. You may think yourself clever with a one-liner on a device, but its chicken poop.

Stay tuned for another edition of dating (again) tips.

Where is Daniel? NOLA for the 4th

Need I say, I heart Nawhlins... It is humid with triple digit temperatures in the day time. The vibe easy and life is --slower. In Porgy and Bess, "summertime, when the livin is easy" obliquely refers to Southern hemisphere summers, where all effort is about exerting as little effort as necessary. I digress.

ESSENCE the biggest "Black" festival is happening in the most Not-American City in the US. There are many family reunions, celebrations, and folk coming to town and enjoy the newly minted traditional weekend. The 17th Essence Festival, music in the Superdome main stage and in the super lounge, the workshops and vendors in the Convention Center, and people along the river. The lead up was apparent at LAX, while having a pizza and Caesar’s much chatter about the Fest can be overheard. The flight to Louis Armstrong Airport was full, not surprisingly the majority are African Americans.

The Quarters (Vieux Carré) and Bourbon Street are ready associations with NOLA; more recently the lower 9th ward and Katrina; among food and jazz enthusiast the Crescent City probably have few challengers; and for Freshman's what may bring them is the open bottle "poured into a cup" policy in the Quarters.

NOLA has many neighborhoods, the (French) Quarters, Garden District, Bywater or Marigny, Uptown, and small enclaves within the wards. I favor the 7th, the dividing line and a major road is Esplanade stretching from City Park to the River. Tree lined, Creole mansions and homes stand attending to the street more gracious than the better publicize Garden District. The 6th and 7th Ward has no trolley cars, popularized by Tennessee Williams play, which served the Garden District and the French Quarters. Elysian Field however, is a familiar track, since I travel this way from my friend’s home one block from the 3rd pump house.

Fortier Park (Esplanade, Grande Rue St. John and Mystery), where the 6th and 7th ward converge, is a shady patch of grass. On Thursday's at 6pm a drumming class for local kids and adults are given. I got to experience it on Friday, since my friends who teach the class had a pre-Essence gig in the Quarters. After the drumming, we sipped wine at our once often frequented local wine bar and chatted with others in our tribe. Earlier that afternoon, A and I drove into City Park, learning many of the old Oak Trees I wanted to visit were taken down after the last Hurricane season. The park more manicured, lost the fabled "old plantation" grounds feel to the place.

Change is coming slowly into New Orleans neighborhoods, with exceptions for the insured areas in the city. The rest still hold lingering reminders of Katrina’s devastation.

June and PRIDE 2011

June 2011 is a peculiar month. It began with marking the 30th year of HIV/AIDS being in our midst and will end with Pride Festivals and Parade in NYC, SF, NOLA, Minneapolis, Chi town, SEA, OKC, Wichita, and Harlem. The convergence of both markers in my in American life is queer (pun intended). The 4th Sunday of June is most often attributed to the Stonewall Protest/Riot, when a group of drag queens along with other same sex loving people launched the present day gay movement in the US. Pride became a celebration of an uprising, to be no longer subject to police brutality, being treated as an outcast or social pariah.

I recall attending NYC Pride in ‘94 when many in the LGBT community marked 25 years post Stonewall, and coinciding with the anniversary was the Gay Games. What struck me, as the march snaked through Mid-town --the mass of participants appeared like a walking Gap Ad. Most wore the uniform of khaki shorts, faded T’s, baseball caps and not surprisingly made up mainly of mainstream/dominant culture homosexuals and their friends. Though I walked with the Filipino contingent, made up largely of New Yorkers and their visitors, a handful in Drag; the absence of transvestites, transsexuals, Drag Queens and “fringe” members of the broader gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community was noticeable. Most stark was the closing ceremony of the Games, held at Yankee Stadium, as attendees packed trains in the Subway ride to the Bronx, the irony of a ballpark filled with affluent white men did not escape me.

A few years later at Toronto Pride, I was less surprised and anticipated the majority of celebrants being members of the dominant culture/class. Canadians do not strike me as having a conflicted identity around privilege. Different in that encounter was how wide the range of self-expression that were being cultivated. Punks, walked with leather men, mixed with fairies, bears, and transvestites. Float contingents were gender mixed, as well as the pedestrian only areas off Church Street. I capped this trip with a 4th of July celebration with a friend’s family in Jamestown, NY. She and I ventured to Toronto, mainly not wanting to be in San Francisco for Pride festivities, and secondly visit with her parents for the American holiday.

Peculiar and mix are the sentiments I have about this month. Odd in having lived and worked in ground zero of the US side of the Global pandemic; yet still observing the integrative challenges of a movement largely defined by moneyed and powerful men; and perceiving race, class, gender, nationality, in an increasingly divided society will never cease to be the fly in the ointment. HIV and AIDS can be characterized as a disease of disparity.

Wondering aloud, if there is reason for Pride festivals? Do we celebrate our inordinate self-importance, achievements, and advantages when many others are denied their dignity? If however, we mark the 4th Sunday of this month as a community of people who value in ourselves and others self-respect and esteem, use it as building blocks towards a less divided nation, then I can see my mixed feelings as merely passing.

The color Orange

It's summer in our hemisphere.

The light of day lasts through 8:30 in the evening of late
Skies greyed by morning fog and auto fumes,
less an ocean breeze
blows it inland
Sunset drama play

The fruit orange
(Clementine, Mandarin, Tangerine, Satsumas, Kumquats, Tangelos, Bergamot, Oranges, Persimmon)
evoke eternal summer and signaling fall.

The flower orange
California poppy, Nasturtium, Sunflower, Asiatic Lilies
all-presence, gentle invaders
in our ecozone

Color of fall and harvest
pumpkins, gourds

Its combination of red's energy and the happiness of yellow,
the sun's color in our mind
signaling joy and balmy tropics.

Orange as a color
identified with visibility
safety
midpoint between yellow and red

Red-orange hot ember
conjures passion, pleasure and thirst for action.

Saffron robe and alms-giving.
Sacred dress for Hindus and Buddhist

Amber, burning stone
musky resin
preservative

Gold, precious metal
pliable at twenty-four,
ever present as fourteen,
gilded Vermeil.
©det
Do you have other associations to the color Orange?

Tips for the First Date

For a lighter read on these gray days in the Bay Area, thought to add tips as subject matter. As many of you know, back in the dating world, roaming and ranging.

Imbedded will be more than one tip in this blurb. Tip(s) for first time (again) daters.

Groom to your hoped for standard. It's time. Have you noticed the secondary gender/sex characteristics making its appearance? Hair where none grew before! or more hair where none are needed (clue: ear hair, Einstein eyebrows, or free roaming beard hair). Shape via professional or trim judiciously (in the comfort of your home). Some of us refer to it as part of manscaping, I much prefer man-tainance.

It is said, a standard for not showing your age is the lack of wrinkles in your face, translated to liberal use of well blended sunscreen. But, have you considered the condition of your hands? For me, a tell-tale sign of aging and somewhat little regard for the importance of a hand shake as part of a first impression. A manicure maybe in order!

Glean your wardrobe, combine casual comfort and “in season” style. A positive impression can be made, by not looking like a much needed redux from an earlier non-vintage ensemble. In San Francisco, irony is expressed in many ways.

If you feel good, you look great. Do what is needed for you. Remember celebrities and the well-heeled have stylist and assistant’s, many of us do not --so plan ahead and put it together. It will be noticed.

Conundrum

Tis a puzzlement. A grown man, in middle age, who has a history of achievement respective to his career; having multiple love interest throughout his life; a few long term relationships which ended amicably with one maintained as a close friend, now finds himself stepping into the dating world.

First, naively, one doesn't conceive of being unattached again at this age. Second, to participate in the rituals of courtship, referenced and informed by an earlier time, feels arcane. Third, is there a point?

Naive by way of Mr. Wells oft paraphrase “we live alone and we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone.” Romantic love seems momentary in the larger scheme of one's life, and there are times when the desire for love is based on an illusion. To befriend someone, as lifelong commitment, may or may not materialize.

Dating in the information age, how do you connect? Online dating sites abound, each championing a formula for finding the "perfect" match, while others limit themselves as hook up venues. Social circles are now peopled by married, partnered, co-parenting, or defining loving and committed relationships and have few single friends to whom you can be introduced. Family takes a pass in keeping an eye out for you, since you are no longer in the market, so to speak. What options do you have for meeting others with whom one can find the illusive spark of possibility?

Is there a point? Can one truly be honest with one self to say, you fear the possibility of growing old alone. What does the fear embody?

Age old questions about selves as evolving creatures. One question or an experience can give rise to more questions, not out of uncertainty, mostly a drive to "know."

Midlle Age - A man's new venture

Middle-age for many suggests a settling into a life course. For some, it is their first experience with solitude possibly resulting from divorce or the end of a long romantic involvement dating back to High School or College days.

While others anticipate and navigate it with aplomb, throwing parties involving people from the decades lived, taking a sabbatical to delve into a question long held their fascination, or plumb inner selves.

Carved paths include: raising a family, coming to full stride in their small family business, climbing within the corporate hierarchy, or retreating to memories of what was their youth. Experiences and emotions run the gamut.

What if you skewed these well-worn paths? How do you measure your accomplishments? How do you speak of your worth? Recalling early ruminations on what will be my legacy (prose written and read on this very topic).

Trite sayings, marching to a different drummer; literary reference taking the road less traveled were mantras of earlier generations. It is a new chapter, moving towards s'aging with grace.

Context - being single

As the introductory post to the re-booted blog, the salient points of single hood for a middle aged, unattached, achieving and self-propelled among us maybe of interest to the reader.

The day to day of single-dom is unlike how it is conceived by many friends who are partnered, with children, or those responsible for their aging parents or other family members.

Primarily, they envision all the pluses: solitude, social and cultural life peopled by "interesting" habitué, dining and enjoying what the city offers, determined by a time going beyond the mere 24 hour day, and lack of tether. Bound only by how far you wish to exercise a sense of freedom.

The un-single perhaps may not grasp, flying solo also means: meals for one, which by all accounts implies plenty of reheated leftovers or cereal and oatmeal constituting sustenance. Or when waking in the dead of night, from a bad dream, in screaming out, and there is no one there to hear your cry or to shake you back to your senses. Then there are those times, when one is casting about your apartment (puttering) trying to figure out where something is, and no one yelling "you left it at that drawer by the sink." Such are some of the actualities for a single man.

The blog is not to recast notions of what single life is, simply to expand how it is dreamed of.

BLOG REBOOT

I've been considering re-engaging with the chronicle. Something along the lines of less frequency in posting, yet, articulates learning, insights and the joy and challenges of living.

In my head, I hear:
-- write about something you know about
-- allow for a range of feelings to come across
-- use the medium as a creative outlet
-- mirror/reflect on what is around you and affects your day

Mid May 2011

Months have passed since I last visited with my blog spot.

An eventful year so far: took on a full time work gig as Project Director of 2 five year prevention grants back in February; writing articles for peer reviewed journals from project data collected prior to September 2010; the end of a three year relationship; and accept the inevitable change likely to happen with my current housing which can mean another relocation.

Transitions seem constant, change manifesting itself, the principal plot in life's narrative.

The current iteration of my home, in place for the November apres Turkey dinner, is the most aesthetically suited to my current sensibility. The studio is open and also discreetly private. The artifacts, stories revolving around past friends, lovers, and folks who have an intimate sense of the evolving me.

Get Off Obama's Back ...second thoughts from Michael Moore

October 10th, 2009 6:01 PM

Get Off Obama's Back ...second thoughts from Michael Moore

Friends,

Last night my wife asked me if I thought I was a little too hard on Obama in my letter yesterday congratulating him on his Nobel Prize. "No, I don't think so," I replied. I thought it was important to remind him he's now conducting the two wars he's inherited. "Yeah," she said, "but to tell him, 'Now earn it!'? Give the guy a break -- this is a great day for him and for all of us."

I went back and re-read what I had written. And I listened for far too long yesterday to the right wing hate machine who did what they could to crap all over Barack's big day. Did I -- and others on the left -- do the same?

We are weary, weary of war. The trillions that will have gone to these two wars have helped to bankrupt us as a nation -- financially and morally. To think of all the good we could have done with all that money! Two months of the War in Iraq would pay for all the wells that need to be dug in the Third World for drinking water! Obama is moving too slow for most of us -- but he needs to know we are with him and we stand beside him as he attempts to turn eight years of sheer madness around. Who could do that in nine months? Superman? Thor? Mitch McConnell?

Instead of waiting to see what the president is going to do, we all need to be pro-active and push the agenda that we want to see enacted. What keeps us from forming the same local groups we put together to get out the vote last November? C'mon! We're the majority now -- the majority by a significant margin! We call the shots -- and we need to tell this wimpy Congress to get busy and do what we say -- or else.

All I ask of those who voted for Obama is to not pile on him too quickly. Yes, make your voice heard (his phone number is 202-456-1414). But don't abandon the best hope we've had in our lifetime for change. And for God's sake, don't head to bummerville if he says or does something we don't like. Do you ever see Republicans behave that way? I mean, the Right had 20 years of Republican presidents and they still couldn't get prayer in the public schools, or outlaw abortion, or initiate a flat tax or put our Social Security into the stock market. They did a lot of damage, no doubt about that, but on the key issues that the Christian Right fought for, they came up nearly empty handed. No wonder they've been driven crazy lately. They'll never have it as good again as they've had it since Reagan took office.

But -- do you ever see them looking all gloomy and defeated? No! They keep on fighting! Every day. Our side? At the first sign of wavering, we just pack up our toys and go home.

So, at least for this weekend, let us celebrate what people elsewhere are celebrating -- that America now has a sane and smart man in the White House, a man who truly wants a world at peace for his two daughters.

Many, for the past couple days (yes, myself included), have grumbled, "What has he done to earn this prize?" How 'bout this:

The simple fact that he was elected was reason enough for him to be the recipient of this year's Nobel Peace Prize.

Because on that day the murderous actions of the Bush/Cheney years were totally and thoroughly rebuked. One man -- a man who opposed the War in Iraq from the beginning -- offered to end the insanity. The world has stood by in utter horror for the past eight years as they watched the descendants of Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson light the fuse of our own self-destruction. We flipped off the nations on this planet by abandoning Kyoto and then proceeded to melt eight more years worth of the polar ice caps. We invaded two nations that didn't attack us, failed to find the real terrorists and, in effect, ignited our own wave of terror. People all over the world wondered if we had gone mad.

And if all that wasn't enough, the outgoing Joker presided over the worst global financial collapse since the Great Depression.

So, yeah, at precisely 11:00pm ET on November 4, 2008, Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize. And the 66 million people who voted for him won it, too. By the time he took the stage at midnight ET in the Grant Park Historic Hippie Battlefield in downtown Chicago, billions of people around the globe were already breathing a huge sigh of relief. It was as if, in that instant, one man did bring the promise of peace to the world -- and most were ready to go wherever he wanted to go to achieve that end. Never before had the election of one man made every other nation feel like they had won, too. When you've got billions of people ready, willing and able to join a cause like this, well, a prize in Oslo is the least that you deserve.

One other thought. The Peace Prize historically has been given to those who have worked to throw off the yoke of racial discrimination and segregation (Martin Luther King, Jr., Desmond Tutu). I think the Nobel committee, in awarding Obama the prize, was also rewarding the fact that something profound had happened in a nation that was founded on racial genocide, built on racist slavery, and held back for a hundred-plus years by vestiges of hateful bigotry (which can still be found on display at teabagger rallies and daily talk radio). The fact that this one man could cause this seismic historical event to occur -- and to do so with such grace and humility, never succumbing to the bait, but still not backing down (yes, he asked to be sworn in as "Barack Hussein Obama"!) -- is more than reason enough he should be in Oslo to meet the King on December 10. Maybe he could take us along with him. 'Cause I also suspect the Nobel committee was tipping its hat to all of us -- we, the American people, had conquered some of our racism and did the truly unexpected. After seeing searing images of our black fellow citizens left to drown in New Orleans -- and poor whites seeing their own treated no better than the black man they had been raised to hate -- we had all seen enough. It was time for change.
Thank you, Barack Obama, for giving us the opportunity to redeem ourselves. Now for the tasks ahead. We need you to do all that you promised to do. We need it. The world needs it.

My prediction for the future? You become the first *two-time* winner of the Nobel Peace Prize! Yeah!

Fred (that's Norwegian for "Peace"),
Michael Moore
MMFlint@aol.com
MichaelMoore.com

Keeping up the blog

It seems difficult to write on the blog during challenging and even rewarding periods of one's life. Nearly a year has passed since the short sale of the condo on the hill above the lake. It was a dream, in a way. Not heavily metaphoric -- simply to have a concrete example of California good life. There were many dinners held, sweat equity built, quite moments seemingly safe from the streets of the city.

I have much to ponder and review. How far back do you go? How detailed do you delve? Does the narrative have to be coherent?

I'd like to keep the journal alive somehow. It is my chronicle.

A preliminary thought I am considering, to post on a quarterly basis, including features, highlights, and arm chair analysis.

I'll have to check with the reader.

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Originally uploaded by onepinoy

a mad drive across the bridge, winter evening with top down. one of many phone camera shots.

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Originally uploaded by onepinoy

a bouquet from a friend...flowers man to man

Much has happened in the Studio

Painting is nearly complete, furniture were selected and put out, art is hanging on the walls.

A fundraising, Vernal Equinox event has taken place, in part to celebrate a milestone birthday and to warm the house.

Alas, the challenge for the coming months: the building is foreclosed, possibly leaving tenants vulnerable to eviction.

Pictures and tales to follow.

Walls to paint, storage to find or build = LIVING LOFT

Walls to paint, storage to find or build = LIVING LOFT

small and slow progress