Just For Fun

...and because I'm a mindless follower who would happily jump off a cliff if my other friends were jumping too -

...and because Sprawling Ramshackle Compound brings back warm, fuzzy memories of my Florida home -

...and because those of us of Irish extraction must hang together -

Please vote for Nora O'Sullivan for Spooksmodel of the Year at Fangoria! She's a doll. The kind of doll that you never ever want to find under your Christmas tree - if you expect to ring in the New Year, that is! Scroll down to her picture and vote early and often!

Update: I just heard from the lovely and talented Nora herself - she came in at third place! She's going to LA with the rest of the lucky 13, and there will be another round of voting. When that happens, I will post again, and recruit more vote-zombies!

The City that Ended Hunger

I don't usually post articles verbatim, but this one blew me away.

Belo, a city of 2.5 million people, once had 11 percent of its population living in absolute poverty, and almost 20 percent of its children going hungry. Then in 1993, a newly elected administration declared food a right of citizenship. The officials said, in effect: If you are too poor to buy food in the market—you are no less a citizen. I am still accountable to you.

The new mayor, Patrus Ananias—now leader of the federal anti-hunger effort—began by creating a city agency, which included assembling a 20-member council of citizen, labor, business, and church representatives to advise in the design and implementation of a new food system. The city already involved regular citizens directly in allocating municipal resources—the “participatory budgeting” that started in the 1970s and has since spread across Brazil. During the first six years of Belo’s food-as-a-right policy, perhaps in response to the new emphasis on food security, the number of citizens engaging in the city’s participatory budgeting process doubled to more than 31,000.

The city of Belo Horizonte puts “Direct From the Country” farmer produce stands throughout busy downtown areas. Photo by Leah Rimkus

The city agency developed dozens of innovations to assure everyone the right to food, especially by weaving together the interests of farmers and consumers. It offered local family farmers dozens of choice spots of public space on which to sell to urban consumers, essentially redistributing retailer mark-ups on produce—which often reached 100 percent—to consumers and the farmers. Farmers’ profits grew, since there was no wholesaler taking a cut. And poor people got access to fresh, healthy food.

'Food as a right'. It makes sense to me. As humans, we owe that to one another, especially when there is enough to go around. Frances Moore Lappé, the writer of this article, put it well:

"In writing Diet for a Small Planet, I learned one simple truth: Hunger is not caused by a scarcity of food but a scarcity of democracy."

Like health care, there is a minimum subsistence level that every person deserves simply by being human. If you want to call that socialism, fine by me. 'Private charity' is not the whole answer, because then it becomes dependent on personal generosity, which can fluctuate, and it can become a 'moral issue' in which a superior deigns to throw a crumb to an inferior. The donation depends upon the good will of the person doing the donating, and often entails conditions put upon the donation.

Sure, there will always be people who will 'take advantage' of public support, but I believe that, since the majority of people in need are not in need because of laziness or irresponsibility, but are in need because of circumstances beyone their control, it is unfair to deny help to those who need it because of the relatively small percentage of people who take advantage of the system. And, as the article mentions, it is beneficial to society as a whole if everyone is fed, just like it is beneficial to society when everyone is educated.

Hey, Bailout Honchos - What Is It About Working Men and Women That You Find So Offensive?

(Thanks, Teddy!)

Oh, it's a darn rotten shame that AIG is using taxpayer money to pay bonuses to the very people who have flushed these same taxpayers down the crapper. Really, it's just awful - terrible. Oh, my. But - unfortunately, these executives have contracts, you see! So, even though it makes us all mad as heck (grrr!), I'm afraid we'll just have to let them have their bonuses. We can't break their contracts, now, can we? You understand, now, don't you? Why, they might sue us if we don't let them have their bonuses! We can't take the risk of making these executives mad, now, can we? After all, we are a country of laws!

Glenn Greenwald says:

Larry Summers, Sunday, on AIG’s payment of executive bonuses:

We are a country of law. There are contracts. The government cannot just abrogate contracts. Every legal step possible to limit those bonuses is being taken by Secretary Geithner and by the Federal Reserve system.

Associated Press, February 18, 2009:

The United Auto Workers’ deal with Detroit’s three automakers limits overtime, changes work rules, cuts lump-sum cash bonuses and gets rid of cost-of-living pay raises to help reduce the companies’ labor costs, people briefed on the agreement said today.

The UAW announced Tuesday that it reached the tentative agreement with General Motors Corp., Chrysler LLC and Ford Motor Co. over contract concessions, as GM and Chrysler sent plans to the Treasury Department asking for a total of $39 billion in government financing to help them survive.

Concessions with the union are a condition of the $17.4 billion in government loans that the automakers have received so far.

Apparently, the supreme sanctity of employment contracts applies only to some types of employees but not others.

Hmmm.

Oh Larry Summers - I'm so glad to have a people's champion like you in charge of the bailouts. Good thing you're on our side! Your fierce tsk-tsk-ing and ferocious finger-wagging must have AIG just shaking in their boots.

With laughter.

Oh yes - these valuable, brilliant executives must be paid these grotesquely huge bonuses - otherwise, we'll lose them!

Heaven forbid. Who wouldn't do whatever it takes to attract and retain such stellar performers? The 'best and brightest'? Yeah - like a California wildfire. Best at what? Oh, right - best at stealing money.

I really can't find the words to say how much I despise these people.

Bree Walker for Bay Area Progressive Talk - Green 960

VOTE HERE FOR BREE!

There is an opening in the schedule at San Francisco's Green 960, in the afternoon drive-time slot, and I think my friend Bree Walker would be a perfect fit. The program director there, John Scott, likes her work, but she needs to have at least a few hundred e-mails sent to the station to even be considered for a shot at a tryout. Bree is a passionate, fiercely intelligent, informed and committed progressive voice, and a respected news professional (both TV and radio) and I think she would be just right on Green 960. She is up against some tough competition with much larger email lists and publicity tools, so if you could take a sec and send a quick e-mail or vote in the station's contest, it would be much appreciated.

Send your emails to John Scott at john@green960.com. A good subject line would be "Bree Walker for 4-7pm" or something along those lines.

Also, you can vote at the station's website - just choose Bree Walker from the list.

Thanks!

Quote of the Day

“A conservative is someone who believes the problem with our economy is that poor people have too much money.” - Bob Orben, speechwriter for Gerald Ford

In Which Another Rabble Is Roused!

A nice surprise today. I ran into my friend and co-worker John in the teachers' lounge. John is an amazing bass player and teacher - years ago we played together in a TV-show band; now I teach at the school he has been teaching at for a long time, and we run into each other occasionally between classes. John has a razor-sharp and relentlessly curious mind and is very well-informed about things most people have never even heard of. When we were gigging together, he was always telling me about something interesting he had read about or heard on public radio (which I was not especially clued into at the time, and not the least bit politically active.)

I remember one short conversation we had in passing a while back - he had read Tom "Porn-Stache" Friedman's book The World is Flat and was (understandably) a little bummed about the seeming inevitability of the race to the bottom that the powers-that-be have forced us into. It's hard not to get discouraged when the "serious" people assure us that outsourcing, low-wage living and serfdom is the only future we have to look forward to, so we might as well get used to it, quit kicking, and face reality. I was in the middle of writing The Price of Right and wished we had time to talk about it, since I was in the middle of chewing through the sixty-five political/sociological/historical/psychology books I read in the process of researching my own book. But we were both on our way to class, so there wasn't an opportunity to get into it.

When the book came out, I gave John a copy, and today I see him in the break room. He said that he liked the book, which of course I was glad to hear. But what really made me feel like I've done something worth doing is that he's mad again! He told me that he had given me a shout-out on his blog User-Is-Content - which, by the way, is a very cool and eclectic blog, and I highly recommend that you check it out. If you're interested in science, the environment, government, alternative technology and the politics of possibility - it has a Wired magazine feel to it without the forced graphical hipness - you will dig it for sure.

AM New York called me a "rabble-rouser" as if were some sort of criticism instead of a badge of honor to me. That's my real aim with this book - I want to rile up as many people as possible. Anger and outrage are exactly what is called for. And anger and outrage are constructive and lead to action, whereas apathy and withdrawal lead to paralysis. As I've said ad nauseum, I think it doesn't matter whether we can 'win' this thing or not - only that we stand up for what we believe, what we know is right. To not take action against what is wrong because it seems too difficult is the pussy way out, and if we sit on the sidelines, we deserve whatever we get, and have no right to complain.

And it's good to see someone as smart and ethical as John back in the game.

Buy Partisanship?

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

Here we go. Again. *sigh*

Sweet bleeding Christ on a corn-flake, what will it take for Dems to understand that there is a very important distinction between right and left?

The left believes that if both sides give a little, a compromise can be achieved that gives everyone something.

The right believes that to compromise is to abandon one’s principles.

This very basic distinction is at the core of the dynamic between Dems and Repubs, and it is why this scenario plays out the same way every single time.

This is one of the differences between the Strict Father frame and the Nurturant Parent frame, and one of the weaknesses of the Dem position. Because of a worldview that believes that all members of a society are entitled to having their position considered and figured into a final outcome - in other words, a democracy! - Democrats will attempt, as far as possible, to make room at the table for those who do not think like they do. And they believe that in doing so, the other side will reciprocate, and while no one will get all of what they want, everyone will get some of what they want.

And they’re always surprised and dismayed when they get cock-blocked and steamrolled by Republicans, who will fervently argue against what they fervently supported the previous month when their guy was on top. Witness Grampaw McPTSD calling the stimulus package “generational theft” - while the entire Bush administration was spent in allowing bloated, crooked corporations to rape and pillage the American taxpayer, leading to the collapse of the economy and saddling the next generation with the debt that the big fellas have no intention of paying themselves - privatizing profits and socializing losses. Or howling about being left out of the process by Dems, when their mantra while in the majority was “We won, you lost, so STFU”.

Well, duh.

How can the Dems expect anything different, when the worldview of the right insists that compromise means abandoning core principles?

You have to consider it from their viewpoint, which is black-and-white, good-vs-evil, right-vs-wrong. Remember that bumper sticker which said “God said it, I believe it, and that settles it”? To them, compromising with Dems is no different than negotiating with terrorists. If you truly, in your heart of hearts, believe that your cause is right, and others are wrong, why would you compromise? Would you say, “OK, terrorists, if you only kill 50 people a year instead of 500, we’ve got a deal”? No, you would not.

This is the view of the authoritarian follower, which largely skews Repub because the Repub point of view (might is right - he who has the gold makes the rules) speaks to this mindset in a way that reaches their need to be led by a strong father figure. One of the hallmarks of the conservative personality is discomfort with uncertainty and ambiguity, and a viewpoint that espouses strength, dominance and certainty is irresistible to them. These traits are diametrically opposed to questions, multiple points of view (especially ‘seeing it from the other guy’s perspective’) and admittance of uncertainty - all factors adults must deal with in a complex world.

And if you accept this premise - that those whose authority you embrace and accept are completely in the right, and those who do not believe are completely in the wrong - then compromise is not an option, is it? The corollary to this idea is that whatever is necessary to ensure the predominance of this point of view is acceptable, simply because their leaders are right. So it doesn’t matter what argument you use to achieve your objective, as long as you reach your goal. That’s why the Repubs can contradict themselves over and over with righteous wrath, a straight face, and a clear conscience.

This is also why ‘tolerance’, instead of being considered a positive value, is considered the Devil’s work. If other viewpoints are wrong, why ‘tolerate’ them?

Dems are up against this at every turn, yet they fail to recognize it for what it is. And when Dems (in power and out) attempt to placate Repubs by giving them concessions, they are seen as not only wrong, but weak as well. Remember how the Repubs repaid Bill Clinton for giving them the ‘welfare reform’ they demanded? They impeached him, because they have no respect for those they can dominate or intimidate. And that’s how they see compromise - as a weakness to be exploited.

I’m not sure that attempting to ‘buy partisanship’ by handing out goodies (the same ‘goodies’ that made us all sick) to Republicans from the cookie jar will do anything but embolden and unite them further. Bi-partisanship means one thing and one thing only to Republicans - Democrats giving up the booty. It’s like trying to quiet down a tantrum-throwing toddler by anxiously plying him with presents and candy - it only reinforces the idea that if he acts badly enough for long enough, he’ll get his way. The only thing Republicans respect is dominance, and I think that the only way Obama will be able to handle them is with a swat on the bottom and a seat in the corner.

Dems better wise up, rise up and start kicking a little ass, or the actions of Repubs during the Clinton years will seem like Democrat boot-licking by contrast.

Lead The Way

My friend Marisol Delevie made a really cool video for a song that her husband Mitchel and my husband David wrote called "Lead the Way". I think it's perfect for this time.

Vote, Vote, Vote! Weblog Awards 2008

Raise your liberal hand, and vote for our fine friends who are up for quite a few 2008 Weblog Awards! I was a finalist a couple of years ago, when I was much more active, but have slowed down to the point where I am a spectator and cheerleader for my pals who are still hitting it hard. It's an honor to be nominated, especially since this is a conservative-sponsored contest, so mayjah props to our lefty bloggers who are in it to win it!

Here are my picks:

Best Individual Blogger -D r i f t g l a s s
Best Humor Blog - Jon Swift
Best Comic Strip - Town Called Dobson
Best Liberal Blog - Blue Gal
Best Science Blog - Pharyngula and Bad Astronomy
Best Blog Design - Rin-Wendy.com
Best Very Large Blog - Jesus' General
Best Large Blog - skippy the bush kangaroo
Best Small Blog - Rumproast
Best Up-And-Coming Blog - Simply Left Behind

I am just tickled beyond belief that I am fortunate enough to count many of these fine bloggers among my good friends, honored to count others among my acquaintances, and all of them among my list of faves - every one of the highest quality! (My Best Blog Design pick is not a liberal or political blog, but I like it so much that I wanted to include it.)

Go Rest On That High Mountain, Delaney

When my husband and I were a new couple almost 20 years ago, Delaney Bramlett was one of the first friends of David’s that I met. David had been writing and playing with Delaney for a few years, and he took me out to the “Rock ‘n’ Roll Ranch” to visit with Delaney and his mother Mamo, who fixed us sweet tea from her bottomless pitcher. Delaney gave me a big ol’ hug and kiss, and I was a goner. He helped us move our furniture when we moved in together, and we found our first rental house down the street from Delaney’s.

When we had our first baby, Delaney couldn’t have fussed over him more if he had been Delaney’s own - and in a way, like every child he came across, he was. Delaney adored kids and kids loved Delaney. No matter how many people there were in a room, if there was a kid there, Delaney made that child his first priority – he went and got him some sugar. Kids were hugged and loved up and made a big deal over, not ignored or shunted aside while the big people talked. When you went to Delaney’s there were chickens to chase around, and Junior the horse to feed carrots to, and a yard full of dogs and cats to play with. There was a horseshoe pit, a swimming pool and a big front porch swing to swing on, and Mamo always had a warm hug and something good to eat on the stove. Delaney would show you his roses and even cut the prettiest, best-smelling ones for you to take with you. At Delaney’s, you forgot you were in Los Angeles, where ‘image’ is everything, bullshit is the language of success and style matters more than substance - you were somewhere in the back woods of Mississippi, and life was good.

When you went to visit Delaney, you drove past the white fences, and turned up the gravel road. You got out, unchained the fence (being careful so the dogs didn’t get out), opened the gate, locked it back up when you went through, then drove up the rest of the way to the house. You parked the car and walked up the drive, through the breezeway, past the studio and ‘61 Ford truck on the left. But you didn’t enter into Delaney’s house by the front door. You walked in from the back, through the kitchen. This was the heart of the home. Everything that mattered happened in the kitchen. You sat down at the kitchen table, talking and eating and laughing and cooking and singing.

All sorts of people found their way to Delaney’s. There was always a bed or couch available, and you could put your feet up on all the furniture and help yourself to whatever was in the fridge. There was always someone staying there for a little while till they got back on their feet, or a music legend just stopping by for a glass of Mamo’s sweet tea and a little pickin’.

Pickin’ was the heart and soul of life with Delaney. Singing and playing were the air he breathed, and he shared it with everyone around him. Music was in the dirt, in the flowers, in the walls and floorboards, on the roof, in the kitchen, in the bones and the very blood that ran through his veins. And everyone was welcome. The little studio in the shed on the other side of the breezeway was always packed with family, old friends, new friends, and strangers, and he loved to crowd as many people in as possible to sing the elaborate background parts that were his production signature. Music was a family affair, and everyone was family to Delaney.

When you are the spouse or the child of a person in the public eye, it can be uncomfortable and sometimes painful to have strangers lay claim to intimacy with that person based on the briefest of encounters – especially at a time of your own private grief. Delaney had a way of making each and every person he met feel special. He touched the lives of millions of people with his soulful music, raw honesty and loving spirit and as a result many people felt that they had a personal connection with him. But as much as he gave to the public, it was his family who knew him best and loved him most, and brought him the most joy.


Delaney was extraordinary. Yet, the way that he was extraordinary was how extra ordinary he was. What made him so amazing was that it wasn’t his talent, great as it was, that made him extraordinary, but his giant heart, his empathy, his understanding of life and human nature and his ability to view it with love and amusement even as it landed on him like a falling safe. What made him great - what touched every person who knew him, met him, heard him, or heard of him - was his deep humanity, the enormity of his ordinariness, his passionate love for life and living, of everything and everybody around him. He wasn’t about restraint or holding back. He did nothing half-way. He was just Delaney, and very few of us can say that we are that fully ourselves.

He was always, all the time, all about love. And when you heard him, you felt that love. And you walked around in the blanket of warmth and love that he spread over you. He loved his family madly. He adored his children, his mother, his brother, the ladies he married, and they were enclosed in his private circle of love. But the love didn’t stop there - anyone who encountered him, however briefly, was included in that love. If you needed something, he was there, no questions asked, with whatever he had at his disposal. But most of all, he gave of himself, and he gave himself. He moved furniture for me when I had barely met him. He showed up with his heart hanging out, and this is what made him a great artist. It was the fact that his heart was out there for all to see that reached us, and changed us, and opened our own hearts to him in return.

There was never a false note with Delaney - nothing that was not authentic and real. He was completely himself, warts and all, and if you didn’t like it, you could take a long walk on a short pier. His failures were as visible as his successes, and what you saw was what you got. He lived life all the way down to the bone - he fought, he yelled, he cried, he swore, he fell down and got up again. He didn’t try to impress anyone; he didn’t show one face to one person and a different face to someone else. He had integrity - in the true meaning of the word. He was firmly rooted in the good, rich earth of country, home and family, and he never abandoned those roots, but celebrated them, and they nourished him and made him who he was.

Delaney was a soulful man. He loved his Lord and was not ashamed to get down on his knees to pray. He was not ashamed to cry. He was not ashamed to kiss a grown-ass man and say, “I love you, honey.” He put everything - his pain, his tears, his joy, his passion, his fears, his dreams - into his music and shared it all with us.

There are artists, and there are artists. Some people are well-known because of their prowess on their instrument or voice; they are admired, they are amazing, they are iconic, they are impressive. But Delaney, with as much talent and accomplishment as any of them, belongs in another class. He was not above or apart or better or different - his genius was love, and his music reflected it like a still lake at sunset.


His daughter Bekka, who knew the part of Delaney that he shared only with his family, summed it up perfectly:

“My daddy was a giver. Some people have completely mastered their instruments, and they can sing any note in the world, but they’re not givers.”

Delaney Bramlett was a giver.

Delaney knew the secret. Life is about giving. Love is about giving, and about forgiving – not about being perfect, but about making your mistakes out loud and getting back up and becoming stronger because of them, and maybe being a little more understanding of others’ mistakes because you’ve been there, too. He knew the secret and we loved him because he shared that precious secret with all of us.

So, go take your rest, Delaney, and hug Mamo's neck for us. We’ll see you a little further on up the road.

Tears

We lost our very dear friend Delaney Bramlett this morning shortly before 5:00 AM. He had been fighting for his life for the last few months after a botched gall-bladder operation which cut into his intestines. We thought things were looking up, and he had moved onto the 'regular' floor of the hospital, when he took a turn for the worse, was sent back to ICU and died after an emergency surgery.

Please keep his wife and children in your thoughts and prayers.

On the Day of the Birth of the Prince of Peace

Warm wishes from our family to you and yours, and may the coming year bring a change for the better - whether it comes from the top down or the bottom up.

Love to you all - Alicia

Yes, Attaturk Said It Best!

"He dodged those things like they were 'Vietnam'"

Perfection.

But the real kicker is that he has no idea how badly he was shamed!

Ignorance is bliss.

My Blog Friends Rule Because...

...when I go to check in with them, in commenting on their posts, I get whole ideas for posts of my own - verbatim from my comments and e-mails!

So if some of these posts seem vaguely familiar, check your comments or e-mail inbox.

A Bush-Eyed View

Tengrain has a very apropos quote from His Majesty the Baby. It made me think of one of my favorite poems by the wonderful Don Marquis, from one of his Archy and Mehitabel books:




warty bliggens, the toad

By Don Marquis, in "archy and mehitabel," 1927


i met a toad
the other day by the name
of warty bliggens
he was sitting under
a toadstool
feeling contented
he explained that when the cosmos
was created
that toadstool was especially
planned for his personal
shelter from sun and rain
thought out and prepared
for him

do not tell me
said warty bliggens
that there is not a purpose
in the universe
the thought is blasphemy
a little more
conversation revealed
that warty bliggens
considers himself to be
the center of the same
universe
the earth exists
to grow toadstools for him
to sit under
the sun to give him light
by day and the moon
and wheeling constellations
to make beautiful
the night for the sake of
warty bliggens

to what act of yours
do you impute
this interest on the part
of the creator
of the universe
i asked him
why is it that you
are so greatly favored

ask rather
said warty bliggens
what the universe
has done to deserve me
if i were a
human being i would
not laugh
too complacently
at poor warty bliggens
for similar
absurdities
have only too often
lodged in the crinkles
of the human cerebrum

archy

Looking Back - Hooterville, Four Years Ago - Part 1

I started this blog four years ago.

I didn't start out thinking of myself as a writer. I left college in my first year to go on the road as a musician; I took a four-year detour to work in the circus and carnival, went back to music and that's where I've been ever since. I moved to Los Angeles in my late 20s to see where I could go with my music, and ended up finding love, marriage and children - something this old road hag did not expect to find. I also found myself as an artist, and settled into a nice groove of music and family.

I grew up with two progressive parents, and always thought of myself as liberal, but was never what you'd call politically active or even particularly politically aware. My first glimmerings of attention to the particulars of politics came when Newt Gingrich mobilized the Republican Party and began his campaign to destroy Democrats, demonize liberals and hijack the government. The 'Contract on America' I found offensive in the extreme, and the subsequent hunting of the Clintons left me slack-jawed with astonishment at the gall and hubris of the right wing. I began taking notice of the names of the players, but I still wasn't in the game.

During the 2000 campaign, I was repelled by George W. Bush. I learned all I needed to know about him when I read about the Karla Faye Tucker incident. That someone who had the power of life and death over other human beings (and flexed it more than any other governor) could laugh and joke about killing a woman who was begging for her life, (and had been 'saved' and forgiven by the same Jesus who purportedly turned Bush's life around, his sister in Christ) showed me that that this loathsome man was a sociopath as well as an ignoramus and a boor. I was shocked that quite a few of my progressive friends were considering voting for him. Yet, even as I worried about the appointment of Supreme Court justices by a conservative president, I had no idea of the damage this ne'er-do-well smirking frat-boy could inflict upon this country. Even as I was taken aback by the audacity of Dick Cheney appointing himself Vice-President, I did not have an inkling that we were about to be driven over a cliff, along with so many of the basic rights and freedoms that we had taken for granted as irrevocable.

I didn't think he had it in him. I thought he was too stupid to do much damage; that his Daddy's old friend Dick Cheney would keep him in check; that he'd be in and out so quick that we'd hardly know he was there, sort of like Gerald Ford. I did not know that I would soon not recognize my own country.

After 9/11, after the Patriot Act, after the invasion of Iraq, after "smoke 'em out", "Axis of Evil", "dead or alive", "bring 'em on" and "Mission Accomplished", I knew better. And, I thought, so did the rest of America.

But on the morning after the election of 2004, I was staggered to find that George W. Bush was still occupying the office of President of the United States. Gobsmacked might be a more apt description.

I felt as though my perception of reality had shifted. Had I landed in the Twilight Zone? Was I the only person who was outraged by the actions of this criminal and his gang? Was there something I was missing that everyone else was understanding?

I was absolutely 'dazed and confused.' I wandered through the next few days in a fog. But then, an idea came to me.

Earlier that summer, I had heard about 'blogs'. I didn't know what they were, so I Googled 'blog' and found out. I was interested, not so much from a writing standpoint as from amateur geekitude. I checked out WordPress; I wanted to see if I could make it work - it would be cool to install those little bits of code and see what happened. I got a nice-looking little site going - I was mostly interested in the aesthetics and design aspect. It was a lovely, lovely blog. All it needed was something to say.

I put up a few posts, mostly along the lines of "uh, it's eleven o'clock at night and I have no idea what I should write about." They weren't even posts; they were place-holders - lorem ipsums in English. But as I explored the blogging platform, I found myself stumbling across political blogs. I happened to be reading a Washington Post blog - have no idea who the columnist was, but the commenters intrigued me. One in particular interested me enough that I went to visit his blog, a Blogger blog called Left of Center, and we began corresponding. Although my own blog was still empty, I found more to say in my conversations with Mr. M. But I was still in no respect a real 'blogger'.

Fast-forward to the fall and my dilemma.

What about blogging?

I could rant and rave as much as I liked on a blog, and maybe it would help me pick myself up and start moving again. My WordPress blog didn't quite seem right for a political blog, though, and most of the blogs I had come across from the Left of Center blogroll were Blogger blogs. Mr. M suggested that I get a Blogger blog, a StatCounter account and a BlogRolling blogroll, and I would be on my way.

But what should I call it? As I thought about this, I realized what my feelings of disorientation and confusion reminded me of. I remembered watching an old sitcom called Green Acres as a kid, and feeling a similar sort of unease while watching poor old Mr. Douglas get played by the local yokels. It was a place where brains and good intentions were no match for corn-pone cunning and chicken-fried chicanery, and everyone was in on the racket, including his wife; a place where he was lied to, stolen from, and tricked into buying things he already owned, and where pigs held positions of prestige and influence. Green Acres, we are there!

And Hooterville it was.

Saturday - Coming Up For Air (the TMI Edition)

You are welcome to skip this post if you are looking for political commentary.

This week has been a busy one. 

This quarter at school, we've had our biggest enrollment ever, so I am working 4 days a week instead of 3. I get up at 5:30 to get the kids off to school with my husband - my son who is a senior goes to a jazz music magnet across town, so has to be at the bus stop by 6:30. The other two are at school by 8, so I start getting ready for school. I am now taking public transport most of the time, so I head off to the bus stop to get to school by 9. I'm done with school by 6 or 7, depending on the day, and usually I'm done, but this week I've been doing studio work for Richard Perry, so as soon as I get home, I hop in the car and go to the studio until 1 or 2 in the morning, and get to bed by 3 or 4 AM.

After Wednesday, the session work was done for this week (except for some take-home work) so Thursday after school, I get to stay home.  I read the littles their bedtime story (we're going through the whole Wizard of Oz series; we're on The Emerald City of Oz right now) and I fall asleep in bed with my daughter at 10:00.

I sleep until 6 AM Friday morning, get up with the kids, we get them all out the door, and at 8, I go back to bed and sleep till 4:30 in the afternoon. I'm still woozy from trying to make up the sleep deficit, but I manage to do the dishes and make the kids' favorite dinner, spaghetti - my husband has been holding down the household chores for the week. I know I should be doing some blogging or writing - I have the Second Life Virtual Book Signing at SeattleTammy's Virtual Jackson Street Books coming up tomorrow and I need to do some prep work, but I just sit in my chair like a lump and hang out at Café Wellstone for Dancing Liberally - they spin some great tunes. I watch a little bit of crap TV on my laptop and go back to sleep around 11:30.

This morning, I think I have finally made up my sleep deficit, and can maybe begin to get caught up on my life. I owe so many phone calls that it's not funny, but I'm never in a place during the week when I can make a call, because they would all end up being at least 45 minutes, which would not be possible in my work-week schedule. I have several blog post ideas started that I need to work on, since I do not even have an election post up! 

So...

Here I am, looking forward to a nice productive day! 

The Virtual Book Signing is at 2:00 PST so I'll be getting my notes together for that, and get some long-promised phone calls made. I hope to put up the audio from my interview with the Rev. Barry Lynn, which was so much fun. I hope to get around to visiting my blog friends and perhaps even leaving a comment or two, so they don't think I have forgotten them. I hope to get caught up with my school writing. I am having to write my curricula as I go along for my Keyboard Accompaniment, Finale and GarageBand classes - it's pretty much writing a textbook on the fly, but at the end of it I may be able to pull together an instructional book out of it, which would make it worthwhile. I also need to get my studio home-work done, editing some MIDI files and re-recording some piano parts that I can e-mail to the people I'm working for. 

Other than that, I'm just chilling.

AU Bloggers - Let's Start Planning For Next Year!

Sue J of Nailing Jello to the Wall (did I say that that's my new favorite blog name?), who I didn't get a chance to really talk to, got me thinking about next year.

What if we start planning now to spend a few extra days in DC and really do it up right?

That was my only complaint about the Meetup - it was too short to get to talk to everyone I wanted to get to know!

As I said to FranIAm, I suggest we start now on planning for a few extra days in Washington - maybe start a kitty for that purpose, and try to clear our work schedules (for those of us in thrall to The Man) and really have a serious blogger hang.

If we all start throwing a few bucks a week into a kitty, by next year we'll be able to afford it, and those of us who have a little extra can help out those who don't, and a good time will be had by all. We can share rooms, find cool local places to eat and drink at, and see the sights (which I never have time to do.)

Plus, we'll have time to hook up with DC bloggers, and who knows what else?

Thoughts?

On the Radio Tuesday With Rev. Barry Lynn!

Heads-up! This Tuesday, Nov. 18, I'll be doing a radio interview with the awe-inspiring Rev. Barry Lynn, executive director of Americans United for Separation of Church and State, at 1:00 PT. The show is called Culture Shocks and it can be heard on the radio live in these markets:

Los Angeles and the Inland Empire - KCAA 1050 AM
Washington, D.C. - WMET 1160 AM World Radio
Monterey, CA - KRXA AM 540
Cameron, TX - KTAE 1330 AM

and also streaming live and podcasting from Culture Shocks.

I hope you can tune in to the show live!


The call-in number is 1.866.582.9933, and I would love to hear from you.

Tuesday, Nov. 18 - 1:00 to 2:00 Pacific time!

The Future Is Here! Virtual Bookstores Rule!

Wow.

I have just been checking out Second Life, thanks to a new friend I met via Jesus' General (who I met in DC after reading him for a few years now), SeattleTammy of Jackson Street Books, a fine new and used book store (what is cooler than books? Nothing!). JG has a Second Life hang called Café Wellstone, which is a gathering-place for progressives to chat, hang out, dance, and dress up their virtual selves. Tammy helped me get going on it, and it's a blast.

Today, Tammy has put up a Book Report up at Jesus' General for The Price of Right, and she has also invited me to do a Virtual Book Signing at her SL bookstore Virtual Jackson Street Books (that's a Second Life url, which takes you to the location in SL) next Saturday, a week from now, at 2:00 SLT (which is PT).

Anyone who wants to try it out and see what's up can contact me or SeattleTammy. It's free and it's fun.

I can't wait. The future is here!