P

 

WARNING:  SLOW BLOGGING – EN VACANCE UNTIL MONDAY EVENING 01-SEP-03

 

(Very sorry -- this has to be a two-fer post because Radio Userland software and server are VERY slow today!)

 

I’m taking off for the great white north, where they tell me the temperature on the beach yesterday didn’t make it above 62 degrees F.  Jeans and sweats and jackets are packed, although we’ve also packed swimsuits because we’re twisted optimists.

 

I’ll check in comments, surf some blogs as time permits; otherwise I expect to be huddled over a warm hardwood fire and a book or two over the next four days.

 

Stay safe, whatever you choose to do to observe this last summer holiday weekend!

 

===

 

&

 

Another Anniversary to mark:  Happy Birthday to Emphasis Added!

 

Here’s to Rob Salkowitz on his first blogiversary!

 

Rob was one of my inspirations for taking up blogging; glad to see he’s slugged it out and gotten the first year under his belt.  I’m grateful for his insightful writing, grateful for another lefty who doesn’t let the right get off lightly.

 

Wish you many more blogiversaries to come, Rob!

 

  2:35:06 PM    comment []

ÿ

 

40^th Anniversary Today:  I Have A Dream Speech by Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

Each year I listen to this speech in its entirety; each year I find myself amazed by the content, by the orator.

 

If there were ever any human activity to which I would point as a sign that God was among us within memory, this speech would be it.

 

Listen to it, if you’ve not heard it recently.  Marvel at the power projected by this man, using only human vocal chords, only his human lungs, for a protracted period of time.  The incredible amount of energy required to deliver this speech over such a sustained duration awes me.  I cannot think of anyone that I’ve ever met, ever watched or heard over other media, that could speak with such unrelenting passion and power for the length of this speech.

 

The speech itself, while substantially written in advance, is itself a miracle of sorts.  Much of the speech, particularly that containing I have a dream, was impromptu, inspired at the last minute.  Where did it come from, one of the most memorable bits of language of the Twentieth Century?  How did this orator meld it seamlessly with the rest of this moving speech on human rights?

 

If you have the chance to observe this anniversary by catching a recording of this speech today, listen closely and ask yourself whether this just an ordinary speech by a common man, or someone touched by the heavens for our benefit.

 

And ask yourself whether we should not by now have realized this same dream for all Americans, regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, country of origin.

 

Particularly if the dream was a gift, a sign from the heavens.

 

  12:08:31 PM    comment []

‚

 

Day 4

 

Looks like we made it, all the way to the end of the week.  Thank goodness for holiday weekends; they make the first couple weeks of school easier to take, cutting them short of their potential for long, slow torture.

 

While I'm preparing to go for my 5:30 am walk, the little guy wakes up.  Go and crawl back in bed; it’s too early to be up, I prod.

 

Nuh-uh.

 

Okay, so go crawl in bed with Dad; he’s still asleep.

 

Nah-uh.

 

Alright, then lay down here on the couch and go back to sleep.  I’ll be back in an hour.

 

Damn, I think to myself as I cover him with an afghan and kiss his sleep-warm cheek.  He’s going to be ugly by this afternoon.  Doggone it all, I chastise myself, thinking he went to bed too readily at 8:30 pm last night.  I should just go back and crawl in bed with him, make him sleep for that last hour.  Tempting.

 

I start off down the road, the stars still twinkling above my head, the quiet unbroken.   My morning walking partner is a no-show.  Rats, I could have stayed in bed and she wouldn’t have noticed.

 

The litany of today’s duties runs through my head, a task with each step.  Cut the grass.  Right.  Water the lawn.  Left.  Pick tomatoes.  Right.  Finish packing.  Left.

 

I have enough chores to last the length of my hour-long walk.

 

The door opens with a loud squeak on my return; did I wake anyone, I wonder?  No, not at all.  They’re all up already, too early.  I will have no time to myself as I usually do before waking them.  Grrr.

 

The little guy doesn’t want to eat now, he wants to get in the shower.  No, change that, he’ll shower after he eats.  He doesn’t know what he wants to eat, for breakfast or for lunch.  On second thought, a cereal bar now, peanut butter sandwich with ham and cheese slices on the side for lunch.  No, skip the cheese.  Crackers, please.  Snack?  He has no idea what he wants, not a clue. 

 

Looks like my morning will continue to be out of whack, not on schedule.

 

A cattle prod might be a nice tool, I think to myself as I goad my son and my spouse into their respective morning grooves.  (Thank goodness my daughter is on auto-pilot, humming along quietly in the background behind all the poking and prodding.)  We’re late getting out the door anyhow, in spite of my best efforts.  The older child jumps out of the car although I’ve barely stopped in front of her door, as if to flee.  She doesn’t look back, making only a nominal attempt at waving goodbye.  It looks more like we’re dismissed from view.

 

There’s no parking spot in the kindergarten lot; I take the risk of breaking the rules and park in the neighboring business’s lot as the first bell rings.  I’m pulling my little charge along the sidewalk, then propelling him through the 3-foot high churning crowd towards his cubbyhole to dismount and hang his backpack. 

 

The teacher stops me as I make to leave, asks if we go to the same church.  Huh? Uh, no, we don’t…but she’s not persuaded because my son has convinced her he’s been there regularly and knows other church members.  That’s only because he went to preschool there, I try to explain over the rising din.  Sheesh, the kid’s making me out as a convert to Lutheranism.  What next?

 

The little guy finally wends his way to his assigned chair as the second bell rings.  I bolt out the door to remove my car from the verboten parking spot before the school principal sees me.  I can’t get out of the lot now, hemmed in by parents flooding out of the school lot immediately to my left.  The driver of a semi-trailer struggling to exit an extremely awkward driveway directly across the street wears the same pained look I must have on my face.  We exchange knowing looks, raised eyebrows, sighs of resignation.

 

Nuts, in all this crush I forgot to remind my son that the sitter was picking up today.  Will he freak out, partly from fatigue?  Or will he take it in stride?  Nothing is going well at all today. Nada.

 

On a whim, I check my horoscope as soon as I get back to the house.  What the heck, it can’t hurt.

 

Yep, there it is.  Mercury retrograde begins today and lasts for three weeks.

 

Lovely.  At least I can plan on nothing running smoothly, on schedules being disrupted, on my son being stubbornly noncommittal for another three weeks.

 

If I could be sure it was only for the next three weeks!

 

  10:54:52 AM    comment []