Daily Blues & Views

Where will you find me as years go by?      Will you think to look in the shadow       of a mystical mountain? Named and renamed for the footprints      and feathers of those who came first, Or in the pastures that        silver seed sustains. Will I be among the laughing and smiling,      breathing in warm afternoons      or hidden among new family   along a ravaged coastline? Where will you find me as years go by?      amid the vanguard dazed by natural disaster or within the warm      wind that pushes healing and implodes the will of ancestors. Will I be hidden and forever lost,      like the poems that weave through      my leaking imagination at night. Where will you find me?      Or rather, Will you find me                       ...

I learned about two types of lava from a Hawaiian when visiting the Islands about 30 years ago.  He said that there are two words used to describe the two types.  "Ah Ah" is used when mentioning the sharp rocks you walk over with your bare feet.  "Pa hoe Hoe" is the term for the smooth lava that hardens like glass.  The words are onomatopoetic. That is, they sound like what they describe. When people walk over the rough lava they constantly exclaim "Ah Ah" because it hurts to walk on those blunt, jagged surfaces.  On "Pa Hoe Hoe" they say nothing; they just walk. This metaphor can be applied to people as well.  Take the last two presidents, which word slips off the tongue easier Obama or Trump?  Which word has an abrupt sound? It's fun to make that comparison but what does it really mean?  Do we dare judge people by the sound of their name?  Hardly.  But might there be something more here? Names do carry the baggage of connotation....

Some years ago I was part of a 4-man show about the life of Woody Guthrie.  I did spoken word selections from Woody's writings and a duo of musicians played his songs.  I'd punctuate the guitar music with harmonica occasionally as well.  Our 4th man was an old friend of Woody's named Ed Robbin.  Ed had the distinction of being the guy who first put Woody on the radio at station KFVD in Los Angeles.  A writer and activist, Ed had dabbled a bit in directing plays and drama workshops.  It was with that in mind that I once invited Ed to accompany me to a play one evening in San Francisco.  After the production concluded the director invited the audience to remain after and come down to the first few aisles and meet the cast and discuss the play. Ed nodded that he's like to stay.  I'm purposely leaving out the name of the play and any of the cast because that's not what matters.  What matters is what Ed did and said.  After taking some quest...

37 people encapsulated      under a dusty blue sky they comprise: 7 pairs of closed eyes    5 energy drinks       8 coffees,          7 hidden in hoodies,             14 pairs of ear buds,                28 small, glowing screens,                     12 backpacks                          6 tote bags,                             32 sneakers                                  10 boots,                                       2 umbrellas               ...

Today is "Giving Tuesday."  It's another in a long line of contrived commercial events that sprang from Black Friday and Cyber Monday.  Yet I, like many, seem more accepting of a day when people can choose a worthy charity or group and help raise funds for worthy causes.  The internet has been wildly successful at doing fundraising. I should have known something was up with the amount of email that came in this morning.  Seems like every group I've ever given to and any dimly related group was smiling with hands out in my inbox today.  Am I complaining? Hardly.  Like many of my friends, in recent years I've stopped giving those obligatory holiday gifts and chosen to make donations to groups that I and we support.  It's doubly satisfying because not only do we eliminate the need to get in line at the post office or have the expense of using an overnight carrier, but we no longer have to spend time in crowded shopping malls or retail districts wondering...

Maybe it was the masks.  People walking around with surgical masks over their mouths and noses do add a dystopic element to reality.  Sonoma county is usually noted for the quality of the wine it produces.  Wine that becomes exceptional because of the ideal growing conditions.  Lots of clean water and a very temperate climate.  But after spending a week in Northern California...a week breathing toxic air from the horrendous wildfires that now extend the fire season into winter, the reality we face is as topsy-turvey as ever. As Bob Dylan asked during another dystopic time in our lives "..and you know something's happening, and you don't know what it is, do you Mr. Jones?" Something is definitely happening. The fire season has lengthened, the hills are dry and dryer.  The climate is not what it once was. It's changed. To those who deny, the only response can be... It's the environment, stupid. The week piled on more bad news.  Florida is incapable...

The sun came up a larger and brighter orange this morning.  November is nearing its midpoint and ash, not snow falls from above.  New California normal. The President strangles the press openly now and the mass shootings occur on a regular basis. We slide from synagogue to night club, from school to church.  And all the while the drum beats from Is this who we are? to yes, this is...who we are.  This is what we have become. People always kid about getting their passports ready and moving to Canada. They don't want us. The time for kidding is over. The Constitution is in a vice. Two versions of the future pull at each end of the handle. Civil War takes many forms; Civility only one. The burning question is literally burning.