A Righteous Rant from my friend S

There's no place to run anymore.

The corporate fascists have taken it all.

Bin Laden is dead? So what.

Tomorrow morning I'll get up -- if I bother to go to bed to try to sleep -- and still have no health care, no job, no hope of a job -- and get ready to move to another place to either wait to die from untreated illness or to end my life when I run out of money.

How did this happen?

I let it happen.

I believed that if I worked hard, got an education, and stepped up to take care of my family all would turn out well. It didn't. Life's promise left me out -- and I'm not the only one.

Peace.

My Funny Friends

(If by funny, you mean tragically accurate)

Dear Mr. President:

If you would openly support the unions in Wisconsin, you may lose a few voters here and there, but you would gain lifelong support from many disaffected blue color workers, nurses, policemen, firemen, teachers and many, many others. Besides, the unions have been there for Democratic politicians, now it's time for Democratic politicians to be there for them.

Very truly yours,

ql



Dear ql:

He's already made some kind of milquetoast remark about New Economic Realities.

Sorry,

V4V










Peaceful Power to the People.

Burlington

Just when we hit are-we-there-yet fatigue on the five hour drive up,
we rounded a corner and saw a hot air balloon parade.

Even though we arrived late Friday evening,
we were up by five in the morning.
We wandered down to the waterfront.

The girls were watching ducks, but obliged when I asked them to turn around.

They have these lovely swings upon which to sit while watching the water.

We found North Beach by 7am, and had it all to ourselves.
I suggested we take a quick dunk in our clothes to wash the car night off of us.
It was fun!

As I was meeting my tribe, the atriots, on the steps of City Hall,
the girls made up a game of sliding.

The sign that I started at eleven thirty Thursday night turned out pretty cute.
I didn't quite finish coloring in the letter themes.
Gromit tells NTodd he must wear pants (or shorts).

Back at the beach for the day, we all spent hours in the water.
Then we camped at the campground right there.

We love Burlington.

I am enjoying reading this book

Stop Forgetting to Remember, by Peter Kuper.

When I was looking for some new graphic novels to read a while back, this book passed my thumb-through inspection in the shop, so I bought it. I didn't know what to expect, only having this book from Peter Kuper in my collection. It turns out, Stop Forgetting to Remember, is laugh-out-loud funny. At least for me. At least for now. [Full disclosure: I also find Kafka laugh-out-loud funny.]

I am completely identifying with the main character's trajectory into adulthood (though he did many more drugs than I did) and parenting. This morning, when I could barely drag myself out of bed to get the girls ready for school, I read a few pages describing his new father days, and laughed enough to get up to face the day.

These are the pages that gave me the strength to get out of bed laughing
(it was also a good place to stop, 'cause it's the end of a chapter).

I am enjoying the art, as well. I particularly like recognizing shops and buildings from my New York City days of youth.

I am also thinking of two friends from my community as I read, NTodd and AndyG, who recently became new fathers. I think of their partners, too, of course, ERG and E (yes, I think she has a blog, too, but I can't remember where). It's just that, since the main character in this book is male, the birthing and parenting scenes are from his perspective. Since I'm a single parent, I do both parts (smiley face here). The following two pages, in particular, made me think of the boys.







With all of the daily drawing I'm doing, and all of the graphic novels I've been reading, life has begun to look a lot like a comic book. Here is a little comic relief from my own life from yesterday. No, I don't always ask the girls to help me off with my boots, but I did yesterday, and they were happy to oblige.










Peace.

For sidhra

"Watermelons running through the onions? Yikes!"