Excellent piece by J. A. Allen at jaallenauthor.com.
Month: June 2018
All Our Children
Fox & Friends host: “These aren’t our kids. … It’s not like [Trump] is doing this to the people of Idaho or Texas”
Brian Kilmeade: “Like it or not, these aren’t our kids”
Peace, people!
Train in Tallahassee
Studly Doright would rather have a root canal without local anesthesia than attend a concert. He isn’t a big music fan and has even less interest in rubbing shoulders with the hoi polloi. I’m the exact opposite, in fact, I’m a proud member of the hoi polloi, and if possible I’d go in search of live music every day. I’m not averse to attending concerts on my own, but they’re so much more fun with a friend.
When I read that the group Train was appearing in Tallahassee I began hinting that I’d like to go. Studly, however, wasn’t taking the bait. I’d about despaired of getting to see Train when one of my Meetup friends posted the concert on the app. With the click of a couple of buttons I’d bought my ticket and was set to go.
Four of us met at the Cascades Park amphitheater on Thursday night to enjoy Train. It seemed the perfect way to celebrate the summer solstice.
I fought off gnats to take that photo above. Next to me is Shavani, then Martha, and Mary Kay.
Although the opening band wasn’t scheduled to play until 8, we’d arrived at 6 p.m. to score a good spot in the grassy general admission area. The temps were in the mid-90’s, a storm was building to the west, and the humidity was intense. We even had to take shelter from lightning for a while. The shelter was an air conditioned bar with cold beer, so it wasn’t much of a hardship.
A local band, Brightside, kicked things off right on time. They were fun and energetic even as they battled heat and gnats. Once the sun dipped low and we all stopped perspiring both problems were solved and the night was perfect for soaking up the music.
Of course, we were there to see Train and they didn’t disappoint.
They played one hit after another and did a couple of covers that were mind-blowing, including Tom Petty’s Free Falling.
My favorite Train song is Drops of Jupiter. They didn’t play it until the encore, but it was worth the wait. I videoed a bit of it, but my camera work wasn’t great. This one is much better:
What a fun evening with friends! I was happy I got to attend and Studly was ecstatic that he didn’t have to. That’s a win-win.
Peace, people!
Snapshot #200
For my 200th snapshot I’d planned to find something spectacular to capture for posterity. Instead, I accidentally captured my pajama bottoms. They might not be pretty, or provocative, but they sure are soft.
I’ll call this one “Plush PJs”.
Peace, people!
‘Til the Cows Come Home
One cow came home with me on Wednesday night, well, a picture of a cow anyway. One of the Meetup groups I’m a part of enjoyed an evening at Painting with a Twist in Tallahassee where we painted happy cows.
Here’s what Clarice (Yes, I named my cow) looked like after I’d worked on the background. You will perhaps note that I’m not all that accomplished at the fine art of painting.
But I did progress during the evening:
Clarice appears to have let her bangs grow out. Why on earth does my cow have bangs?
I know she didn’t look all that happy in the photo above, but I kept plugging and voila! Isn’t she something? You can answer that any way you choose.
I was the least capable of the four of us who were part of the Meetup group:
We did have a great time, though, and painting is s great way to get to know people. For instance, they all now know that I have a rich vocabulary of swear words. &@$%# cow.
Peace, people!
Snapshot #199
I call this one, Zöe Yellow, because I discovered it in the al fresco dining area of a Zöe’s restaurant in Tallahassee. It was too hot for me to eat outside, but the flower seemed to be thriving.
Peace, people.
Odd
These past couple of days I’ve been getting some odd “likes” on my blog. People with handles containing lots of random letters and numbers similar to “xton1235.ocwdx.com” and “strsex9542.swrdp.com.” Note, I didn’t use actual links, lest I trigger some response.
These “likers” never comment on my posts, so I don’t have an opportunity to mark them as spam, but they seem to follow even my comments on other posts, “liking” things I like and the comments I make.
Are any of my blogging friends seeing similar occurrences? I feel like something isn’t right with this sudden onslaught (there are at least ten different odd handles clicking the like button on my posts) am I being paranoid or should I be concerned?
Peace, people!
A Pink Bicycle
I might have been five. My parents had taken me shopping at Sears in Lubbock for my first bicycle. There was one I really wanted. It was bright pink and had purple streamers attached to the grips. It was the most beautiful bike I’d ever seen.
My mommy and daddy tried to get me interested in a different bike. I don’t remember what it looked like, only that it had a lack of streamers. I’m sure it was more in line with their meager budget, but at the tender age of five budgets didn’t matter much.
I turned my back on the offensive bike, and I’m sure I stuck out my bottom lip and crossed my arms in protest, striking a petulant pose in the middle of the busy department store. When I turned back around, I was by myself. I thought my parents had left me because I was pouting about the bicycle. Suddenly all my anger evaporated and I began to wail.
A kind woman came and took me to customer service, but I was sobbing too hard to tell anyone my name. When my parents realized I hadn’t followed them out of the bike section they hurried to customer service to find me inconsolable. They hugged and fussed over me and finally I was able to calm down. They’d been “missing” for maybe five minutes. I’m 61 and I remember the separation like it happened yesterday.
So, let’s think about these children being separated from their parents at the border, their cries haunted my dreams last night. Let’s think about the trauma our trump-led government is inflicting on innocent children. Let’s pray that the harm we are doing isn’t permanent.
We will pay for what we are doing. Maybe not now, but we will watch these young people reach adulthood with righteous anger in their hearts. And we will deserve the consequences.
By the way, I got the plain bicycle, but Daddy put streamers on the handlebars and added a squeaky horn and a white wicker basket onto the front. I embraced it. I had a change of heart.
Peace, people.
Moving
It’s been a little over a year since the world lost Chris Cornell. I’ll confess that I only knew of him through my daughter’s sweet sister-in-law Steph, who adored Chris and his music. Since Chris’s death I’ve paid attention to his incredible talent.
Yesterday I was listening to Howard Stern on SiriusXM when they played a song released by Chris’s daughter, Toni, for Father’s Day. I sat in my driveway and sobbed. It’s beautiful and so poignant. Hopefully you’ll be able to utilize the link below to hear what moved me so.
Love your people. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.
Peace, people.
What a Patriot Dreams
Heart wrenching. Please read this piece by Stephanie Harper at silharperpoetry.com.
What a Patriot Dreams
I saw the flags come down—
in a scene that scrolled in slo-mo,
& from multiple vantages—
their masts falling like the trees
flattened by shockwaves
in those clips of old footage
from military nuclear bomb tests,
spliced into documentaries
for high school history classes;
except, my dream version’s vivid images
weren’t the projected celluloid etchings
that teenagers confined to plastic chairs
could summarily cancel from sight
with one hand motioning No
in the universal vernacular.
From a sweeping arc of floodlights
that rendered the indigo skyline
of an early-summer dusk starless,
the flags all vanished at once—
their wingless, red-white-blue heaps
crushing in on themselves, darkening,
& dropping like torn parachutes.
Sleep’s last claim on my consciousness
was that horizon of empty haloes
the mass plummet had left behind,
before my eyes fluttered open
to this morning’s first, grainy insinuations
that breached the blinds’…
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Praying for Eyebrowz 