We awoke this morning to the roar of rolling thunder… accompanied by several (count ’em!) drops of rain (the first in six months). And then…the after smells of an August rain!
Awakening memories from childhood, standing in tall dry grass in drier soil, scattered raindrops splatting against my cheeks and forehead, gazing about in wonder and anticipation.
It’s a great day!
So here we are again. Police murdering a man on camera – not suddenly with a gunshot, but slowly, deliberately, cruelly – for more than eight minutes. And it wasn’t just one “bad apple ” cop. There were four of them. They seemed to act without question or hesitation: empowered, apparently, by a belief that, beyond their paid functions to enforce the law, they personified the law itself. They became self-appointed arresting officers/charging prosecutors/presiding judges/jury of peers all at the same time. In short, they became a lynch mob. And they did it under the cover of law.
We have seen this kind of event before – many times in the 1960s, for example. And rather than memories of society quickly condemning such behavior, I have a vivid (and revolting) image of a photograph of four law enforcement officers on trial, sitting in a court of law with their feet up, and with broad open-mouth grins, eating popcorn – during their trial! They seemed confident they would suffer no more than hand-slaps for what they had done.
It is terrible that a handful of law enforcement officers could subvert the oaths they swore to uphold the law, to protect the rights of citizens. It is appalling they did it seeming to believe they had, and would have the support of their superiors and the public at large. It is astounding they did it so blatantly on camera. But perhaps that is not the worst thing that happened.
Even worse, to my mind, is some of the government response to the public protests and demonstrations. And here I mean to impugn certain actions taken at various local, state and federal levels, not merely the execrable federal response. I am alluding to certain statements and actions in defense of the officers and conversely to condemn protesters. Decisions to disperse crowds with “flash bangs,” tear gas, or police cavalry resemble the tactics used in places like Birmingham or Chicago in the 1960s. Seeing that kind of thing again on television contradicts the concept of a government of the people: it conveys a sense of government AGAINST the people.
So. Here we are again. The People of the United States are protesting again to PROTECT and DEFEND their country from their government!
When we go beyond our rituals of allegiance to the deeper truth of what is going on, it is clear that a minority of the population (many of whom believe the Bill of Rights is unAmerican) have deposed the House of Representatives, subverted a national popular vote, seized control of the purse strings, legislative policy, and international relations, and devastated the court system.
It is clearly time for action. And the most responsible and enlightened action we can take is to vote responsibly – and in overwhelming numbers.
At the same time, protesting remains a serious channel of communicating our grievances and concerns. I do not include or condone looting or opportunistic destruction as protest activities: those distract and trivialize the agenda; furthermore they often injure the oppressed rather than the oppressors. On the other hand, some actions may embody symbolic content of great power beyond words; I think of burning draft cards or flags in another era.
We left San Francisco the afternoon of April 14, 2019 and arrived in Paris the morning of April 15. As we approached the coast of France, the sun was rising, but we were still at an altitude of 41,000 feet. Our airplane was a model 777 Dreamliner, which dims or brightens exterior light without the use of shutter blinds. Looking out the window compares to viewing through a filtered camera lens. I took this photograph through that filtered medium with my iPhone.
On arrival at Charles de Gaulle Airport, we went through passport control, baggage claim and customs without inconvenience. We took the tram to Terminal 3 in order to purchase a Navigo transport pass, which we did, but the Fotomaton line for the required photograph to activate the Navigo was too long a wait for our tolerance at that time, so we stepped outside to obtain a taxi. We were referred to a driver with a van that was equipped with a folding ramp for rolling (rather than lifting) luggage into and out of the vehicle. The van was roomy enough to get into easily, and we were soon settled in our seats and on our way. We had given the driver our address on rue Saint Jacques in the Latin Quarter (5th Arrondissement), and his English,although better than my French, was not fluid enough for easy conversation, so we mostly gawked at the passing rush of unfamiliar sights out the window. Another impediment to communication was the bulk and height of the front seats, which blocked my view of the GPS and meter (although at this point I’m not sure there was a meter!) as well as most of the driver. At one point I inquired if we were crossing the major beltway, or Périphérique. He said no, but a little later he pointed it out. Later as we approached the Petit Pont bridge, Judy and I remarked at the size of the crowds and I said something about the previous day being Palm Sunday, which led us to note the “Spring Break” quality of the youth of the crowds. One of us mentioned Easter contributing to crowd size, and I said something like “yes, but it’s always Easter at Notre Dame.” We all laughed and nodded. Our apartment was not much farther (perhaps .7 mile), and we focused on reading addresses on either side of the street. We got to the intersection before our block, and the driver indicated that our building was quite close to the corner; this was a place we could stop and unload. He opened the back and we wheeled the luggage out of van. I asked how much I owed him (c’est combien?), he gave me a reasonable number, and I paid him in cash with a tip he received warmly. We shook hands and he quickly drove away before I realized I had not unloaded my daypack.
Judy and I both use iPhones. We have an app that tracks our steps, distance and floors climbed. It serves a supportive role in encouraging our physical activity. In practice, we have noticed some idiosyncrasies. Judy’s stride is shorter, for example, so she takes more steps to cover the same distance. Distances vary at least in part because our paths are not identical, but sometimes the differences seem more whimsical. As for stairs, we can sometimes proceed hand in hand up and down exactly the same routes with significantly different tracking results. One day recently she got credit for six flights while I received credit for only one. (Not fair!)
Nonetheless we are both increasingly fascinated with the data. We grow more attracted to tracking and comparing our progress. We aspire to average a 10,000 steps per day model, but have room to improve (although one day recently I did cover more than 14,000 steps, or a bit more than eight miles). My current average is about 8,000 steps per day.
In a way, the eccentricities of the app parallel our own irregular behavior patterns. As the I Ching says so often, “no blame.”
The coast of Ireland is mountainous, the interior comprises lowlands. A traditional word of advice (according to our group leader Stephen) regarding the weather: look out when you get up in the morning. If you can see the mountains, it’s going to rain; if you can’t see the mountains, it’s raining already. 😜
We arrived in Belfast May 2 on a rainy evening, exhausted from the nonstop flight from SFO to Heathrow followed by a crowded flight from Heathrow to Belfast. We napped, ate at the hotel restaurant (for me a bland fish pie with garlicky haricots verts), tried to set up charging apparatus for our phones, pads and toothbrushes — and then we crashed. When we awoke it was still raining, but it was the morning of a new day. Breakfast included fried bread and basted eggs (not “over”), breakfast meats and assorted fruit.
We set out walking from the hotel, (Jury’s Inn) mostly to simply get things moving again. We walked a couple of miles in the neighborhood (according to the activity monitors in our phones) before stopping at a Starbucks near the hotel. Along the way we stopped to appreciate a public sculpture of two women advocating equal rights and pay. My first efforts to insert a photo here failed; I’ll add it later if I can.
Rochester Airport
A shamanic alternative to the TSA?
I’m using this post to draft preliminary thoughts for an op-ed piece or letter-to-the-editor about the importance of supporting some of the measures on the ballot that impact community colleges.
Some well known facts about community colleges:
Some additional thoughts that ought to be obvious if they are not:
Some Q and A
Q – Will California”s Proposition 30 provide new money for Community Colleges?
A – No.
Q – Will it avert triggered additional cutbacks in January?
A – Yes.
Q – Will the Chabot/Las Positas Community College District Measure I provide growth money for the district’s colleges?
A – No.
Q – Will it help offset some of the cuts of the past two years and possible additional cuts in January?
A – That depends on what happens with Proposition 30, but Measure I will definitely help to stabilize the district budget for the next seven years.
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