Monday's Poetry: "Puerto Rican Obituary"

 by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Puerto Rico, one of the larger islands in the Caribbean, has been an American territory since the Spanish American War at the end of the 19th century.  The United States took Puerto Rico and the Pacific island of Guam as part of the spoils of that war, and our country still controls much of the governance and daily life of those two islands today.  There is sporadic talk of each becoming a state someday.


Puerto Rico is, or has been, one of the lovelier jewels of the Caribbean.  Old San Juan and the massive Spanish fort along the coast draw millions of tourists annually, and El Yunque, the rain forest of Puerto Rico, is an amazing experience.   With English in common usage and the dollar as the official currency - as well as an array of American businesses and medical and educational professionals residing on the island, many Americans see it as a viable retirement option. 

This past week, of course, Puerto Rico was devastated by Hurricane Maria, a gargantuan weather event that left the entire island tattered and without electricity.  Reports are that it will take months to get the power back on throughout the island, and years to rebuild.

That is so sad because it is a charming and beautiful place.

Shamefully, our national government does not seem to be engaged with helping Puerto Rico recover from the massive hurricane damage the way that kicked into gear with the tragedy in Houston.  Puerto Ricans are Americans, too, albeit marginalized ones.

This poem, "Puerto Rican Obituary" by Pedro Pietri, is a lengthy look at what it means to be a Puerto Rican struggling to get by while residing in New York City's Spanish Harlem.  It idealizes life back home on the island, and portrays a sad, soulful longing for a place where people could live as human beings and not just workers toiling their way toward the cemetery.

Stay strong, Puerto Rico.  You are in my thoughts and prayers!


Puerto Rican Obituary
by Pedro Pietri

They worked

They were always on time

They were never late

They never spoke back

when they were insulted

They worked

They never took days off

that were not on the calendar

They never went on strike

without permission

They worked

ten days a week

and were only paid for five

They worked

They worked

They worked

and they died

They died broke

They died owing

They died never knowing

what the front entrance

of the first national city bank looks like

Juan

Miguel

Milagros

Olga

Manuel

All died yesterday today

and will die again tomorrow

passing their bill collectors

on to the next of kin

All died

waiting for the garden of eden

to open up again

under a new management

All died

dreaming about america

waking them up in the middle of the night

screaming: Mira Mira

your name is on the winning lottery ticket

for one hundred thousand dollars

All died

hating the grocery stores

that sold them make-believe steak

and bullet-proof rice and beans

All died waiting dreaming and hating

Dead Puerto Ricans

Who never knew they were Puerto Ricans

Who never took a coffee break

from the ten commandments

to KILL KILL KILL

the landlords of their cracked skulls

and communicate with their latino souls

Juan

Miguel

Milagros

Olga

Manuel

From the nervous breakdown streets

where the mice live like millionaires

and the people do not live at all

are dead and were never alive

Juan

died waiting for his number to hit

Miguel

died waiting for the welfare check

to come and go and come again

Milagros

died waiting for her ten children

to grow up and work

so she could quit working

Olga

died waiting for a five dollar raise

Manuel

died waiting for his supervisor to drop dead

so he could get a promotion

Is a long ride

from Spanish Harlem

to long island cemetery

where they were buried

First the train

and then the bus

and the cold cuts for lunch

and the flowers

that will be stolen

when visiting hours are over

Is very expensive

Is very expensive

But they understand

Their parents understood

Is a long non-profit ride

from Spanish Harlem

to long island cemetery

Juan

Miguel

Milagros

Olga

Manuel

All died yesterday today

and will die again tomorrow

Dreaming

Dreaming about queens

Clean-cut lily-white neighborhood

Puerto Ricanless scene

Thirty-thousand-dollar home

The first spics on the block

Proud to belong to a community

of gringos who want them lynched

Proud to be a long distance away

from the sacred phrase: Que Pasa

These dreams

These empty dreams

from the make-believe bedrooms

their parents left them

are the after-effects

of television programs

about the ideal

white american family

with black maids

and latino janitors

who are well train—

to make everyone

and their bill collectors

laugh at them

and the people they represent

Juan

died dreaming about a new car

Miguel

died dreaming about new anti-poverty programs

Milagros

died dreaming about a trip to Puerto Rico

Olga

died dreaming about real jewelry

Manuel

died dreaming about the irish sweepstakes

They all died

like a hero sandwich dies

in the garment district

at twelve o’clock in the afternoon

social security number to ashes

union dues to dust

They knew

they were born to weep

and keep the morticians employed

as long as they pledge allegiance

to the flag that wants them destroyed

They saw their names listed

in the telephone directory of destruction

They were train to turn

the other cheek by newspapers

that mispelled mispronounced

and misunderstood their names

and celebrated when death came

and stole their final laundry ticket

They were born dead

and they died dead

Is time

to visit sister lopez again

the number one healer

and fortune card dealer

in Spanish Harlem

She can communicate

with your late relatives

for a reasonable fee

Good news is guaranteed

Rise Table Rise Table

death is not dumb and disable—

Those who love you want to know

the correct number to play

Let them know this right away

Rise Table Rise Table

death is not dumb and disable

Now that your problems are over

and the world is off your shoulders

help those who you left behind

find financial peace of mind

Rise Table Rise Table

death is not dumb and disable

If the right number we hit

all our problems will split

and we will visit your grave

on every legal holiday

Those who love you want to know

the correct number to play

let them know this right away

We know your spirit is able

Death is not dumb and disable

RISE TABLE RISE TABLE

Juan

Miguel

Milagros

Olga

Manuel

All died yesterday today

and will die again tomorrow

Hating fighting and stealing

broken windows from each other

Practicing a religion without a roof

The old testament

The new testament

according to me gospel

of the internal revenue

the judge and jury and executioner

protector and eternal bill collector

Secondhand shit for sale

learn how to say Como Esta Usted

and you will make a fortune

They are dead

They are dead

and will not return from the dead

until they stop neglecting

the art of their dialogue—

for broken english lessons

to impress the mister goldsteins—

who keep them employed

as lavaplatos

porters messenger boys

factory workers maids stock clerks

shipping clerks assistant mailroom

assistant, assistant assistant

to the assistant’s assistant

assistant lavaplatos and automatic

artificial smiling doormen

for the lowest wages of the ages

and rages when you demand a raise

because is against the company policy

to promote SPICS SPICS SPICS

Juan

died hating Miguel because Miguel’s

used car was in better running condition

than his used car

Miguel

died hating Milagros because Milagros

had a color television set

and he could not afford one yet

Milagros

died hating Olga because Olga

made five dollars more on the same job

Olga

died hating Manuel because Manuel

had hit the numbers more times

than she had hit the numbers

Manuel

died hating all of them

Juan

Miguel

Milagros

and Olga

because they all spoke broken english

more fluently than he did

And now they are together

in the main lobby of the void

Addicted to silence

Off limits to the wind

Confine to worm supremacy

in long island cemetery

This is the groovy hereafter

the protestant collection box

was talking so loud and proud about

Here lies Juan

Here lies Miguel

Here lies Milagros

Here lies Olga

Here lies Manuel

who died yesterday today

and will die again tomorrow

Always broke

Always owing

Never knowing

that they are beautiful people

Never knowing

the geography of their complexion

PUERTO RICO IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE

PUERTORRIQUENOS ARE A BEAUTIFUL RACE

If only they

had turned off the television

and tune into their own imaginations

If only they

had used the white supremacy bibles

for toilet paper purpose

and make their latino souls

the only religion of their race

If only they

had return to the definition of the sun

after the first mental snowstorm

on the summer of their senses

If only they

had kept their eyes open

at the funeral of their fellow employees

who came to this country to make a fortune

and were buried without underwears

Juan

Miguel

Milagros

Olga

Manuel

will right now be doing their own thing

where beautiful people sing

and dance and work together

where the wind is a stranger

to miserable weather conditions

where you do not need a dictionary

to communicate with your people

Aqui

Se Habla Espanol

all the time

Aqui you salute your flag first

Aqui there are no dial soap commercials

Aqui everybody smells good

Aqui tv dinners do not have a future

Aqui the men and women admire desire

and never get tired of each other

Aqui Que Pasa Power is what’s happening

Aqui to be called negrito

means to be called LOVE

Trump Goes to War - Against the NFL

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

This week in a sure sign that the Mueller investigation is having a negative impact on Donald Trump's pleasant disposition, the fat man in the White House launched yet another diversion to take the public's attention away from the ever-expanding Russia scandal.  Trump doesn't want us to waste our time focusing on the potentially treasonous activities of his administration and various family members, so he instead whipped up another sideshow to capture our attention.  Now, the matter of greatest national urgency must be athletes who kneel during the national anthem.

Football free agent Colin Kaepernick began drawing some attention to himself more that a year ago when he chose to kneel during the national anthem as it was being played at an NFL game.  Kaepernick was using that form of free speech (dubbed "taking a knee" in the popular press) to protest the growing incidence of white policemen shooting and killing unarmed black men, crimes which, more often than not, went unpunished.  In the intervening year, other professional athletes have followed Kaepernick's brave lead.

Last week while campaigning in Alabama, Trump went on a tirade and attacked the athletes who were using their constitutional right of free speech to bring attention to racism.  The Trump family made much of its early money through the ownership and management of properties which they steadfastly refused to rent to blacks, and polling shows most of America's contemporary angry racists are politically aligned with Trump.  By attacking Kaepernick and the other kneeling athletes - whom Trump referred to a "sons of bitches" - he was shamelessly throwing red meat to the racist elements of his base.  Trump also encouraged his peer group, the NFL owners, to fire athletes who choose to exercise their free speech through kneeling during the national anthem.

But, perhaps more importantly, Trump was giving America another outrage to focus on - something besides Russia.

This afternoon upwards of fifty professional football players are anticipated to "take a knee" while the national anthem is played during their games - and Donald Trump will undoubtedly explode all over Twitter.  But in spite of all of the patriotic fervor and noise, the Mueller team will still be digging.

Robert Mueller is focused, and while Donald Trump may sit on his golden thrown typing tweets with wild abandon, Mueller will not be distracted.

Godspeed, Robert Mueller.  America is depending on you!

It's Tim Macy's Birthday!

by Pa Rock
Proud Father

Screenwriter Tim Macy was born thirty-eight years ago today at St. Francis Hospital in Mountain View, Missouri.  It was a Sunday, just after noon, and the delivery room was crowded with EMT trainees who were there to witness a birth.  Baby Tim arrived safely through the calm and skilled efforts of Dr. Jon Roberts, a family friend.

Today Tim lives in the Kansas suburbs of Kansas City with his wife, Erin, and their two bright and loving children, Olive and Sullivan.   Tim is within a month of seeing the premier of his second full-length motion picture, and he has several other promising efforts circulating through movie and television production companies.

His future is so bright he ought to wear shades!

Happy birthday, Tim.   May you be around to enjoy many, many more!

McCain and Graham Split the Sheets, but ACA Still Remains in Peril

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The Senate's long simmering bromance between John McCain and Lindsey Graham seems to have hit a rough patch with McCain's declaration yesterday that he cannot support the Graham-Cassidy bill to repeal Obamacare.  McCain's defection, along with that of Kentucky's Senator Rand Paul, means that the GOP would have to muster the votes of each of its remaining fifty senators in order to pave the way for Vice President Pence to save the day by casting a tie-breaker in favor of taking health care away from millions of deserving Americans.

So close, but yet so far.

The Senate Republican leadership had unreasonably high hopes that by letting Lindsey Graham champion this repeal effort, that would be enough to keep McCain, Graham's cantankerous BFF, in line.  But the blatant attempt to cast the Lindsey lure failed to work.  Some are saying that McCain is using the issue to polish up his image as a maverick - or a statesman, while others remain a bit more cynical and believe the cagey Arizona senator is simply getting even with Trump for his taunts back during the campaign which defamed McCain's military service. 

I'm more of a mind that John McCain doesn't get mad, he gets even.

Donald Trump only has one diplomatic "skill," and that is to bully - and the more he tries to bully John McCain the safer, and the healthier, America will be.

Trump also tried to bully the other GOP defector, Rand Paul, and the result of that attack ended badly as well.  In a tweet yesterday Trump bloviated:

"Rand Paul, or whoever votes against Hcare Bill, will forever (future political campaigns) be known as 'the Republican who saved ObamaCare.'"

To which the junior Republican senator shot back a tweet saying that he didn't regard Graham-Cassidy as a true Obamacare repeal - and that he would not be "bribed or bullied."

Donald Trump may be comfortable trying to bully his way through what he has termed "the swamp," but the Republican's biggest alligator in the Senate, Majority Leader Mitch McConnell, is a master of bribery.  McConnell has two remaining worries with regard to the way his caucus votes on Graham-Cassidy.  One is Susan Collins of Maine, and the other is Lisa Murkowski of Alaska.  Both of those senators voted against the Senate's last effort to kill Obamacare, along with pissed-off John McCain - and thus kept the vote to repeal at forty-nine, denying Mike Pence the chance to rush in and vote to insure that Americans in need remain that way.       

During the last vote, Republicans tried bullying Murkowski with threats toward the energy economy of Alaska.   This time around the GOP leadership seems to have changed its tactics with Murkowski and will try bribery instead.    The senator has apparently been told that if she will vote to repeal Obamacare through Graham-Cassidy, an exception will be carved out within the bill that will essentially allow Alaska to keep Obamacare.  Think about that.  If Murkowski votes to take affordable health care away from the forty-nine other states, her state will be allowed to keep it.  What is a political animal to do?

Once again we are at a moral and political crossroads in America watching helplessly as the health and well-being of millions of our fellow citizens dangles by a thread.  We shouldn't have to live in constant fear that illness or injury could first render us impoverished - and then dead.  

Stand tough, senators.  You are our last line of defense against the bullies, and bribers, and greedy charlatans who are striving so desperately to make America hate again.  If you have our backs, we will have yours.  Protect America by making health care affordable and keeping it that way!

Gay Nazis Need Love, Too

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

A few days ago an article on the Truthout website (www.truth-out.org) caught my attention as it introduced me to an aspect of fascism in America of which I had almost no knowledge.  The piece entitled "White Nationalist Groups Are Splitting Over Gay Inclusion," was written by Portland-based researcher Shane Burley.

Burley's article was an examination of some of the growing pains that the alt.right (American fascist) movement is undergoing as it deals with the growth spurt in membership brought on by having a friend in the White House.  It seems that when a broad movement is primarily based on intolerant attitudes, some natural fractures are bound to appear as it expands and brings in more people.   One of these fractures plaguing the leaders of American fascism is what to do about the gay white nationalists who want to be part of the movement.

That caught me as a bit of a surprise because I couldn't fathom why individuals who identify as gay would have a desire to be included within a much larger group which had historically demonized gays, and subsets of which had even called for their execution.  It brought to mind a the handful of prominent black Americans who Fox News trots out whenever they want to showcase minority opinions with which cranky old white Americans can feel comfortable.  I don't understand those folks either.

But, as a graying child of the sixties, I also adhere to a personal philosophy of "whatever floats your boat" - as long as I don't have to step over you on the sidewalk while you are doing it!

So, gay Nazis.

Anyone who would like to learn more about the crazy quilt of groups that crowd under the alt.right umbrella should begin their quest with this excellent piece by Shane Burley.  Through it you will encounter alliances of macho men who refer to themselves as "masculinists" and prefer the tribalism of life with other men over cavorting with women, fascist groups which allow gay members only if they keep their sexuality secret (don't ask, don't tell), and other groups which spout the Bible as they openly condemn homosexuality.    Somehow they all come together to perpetuate their core belief in the superiority of white people of European descent.

And, just so you know, Truthout is a superior venue for staying abreast of progressive thought in America.   It deserves the support of all who truly value a free and unfettered press.

Congressman Smith Sneaks into West Plains

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Missouri's 8th District congressman, Jason Smith, made a surprise visit to West Plains yesterday and brought with him Ajit Pai, the Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission.  Mr. Pai was apparently here to speak on issues related to rural internet service and to answer questions from the general public.  As a consumer of rural internet services, it was a meeting which I would have liked to have attended, but as I received my copy of yesterday's The West Plains Daily Quill, the issue that announced the visit, five hours after the event occurred, I missed the meeting.

I called the newspaper after reading the article that announced the meeting and learned that Congressman's Smith office had not given the local press word about the event until after the previous day's paper had already gone to press.  The person I spoke with noted that last minute announcements of public meetings seemed to be a "pattern" with Congressman Smith, a fact with which I was already familiar.

Apparently upwards of two hundred people did learn of the meeting in time to attend, including some school officials and representatives of local government who were likely individually informed of the "public" event by the congressman's office - but average citizens who rely on the print edition of the local newspaper for their news - well, not so much.

Ajit Pai, a Trump appointee and a native of the small town of Parsons, Kansas, was on a three-day, four-state tour to hear public comments about rural internet services and to push his (and Congressman Smith's) belief that "free markets have delivered more value to American consumers than highly regulated ones."  Or, in other words, to justify the dismantling of "net neutrality" measures and to open an unregulated internet to domination by big corporations.   The hogwash of Ajit Pai and Jason Smith will cost consumers dearly.

But that is just my opinion - one that was not heard thanks to the tightly controlled nature of the event.

This year the House of Representatives will only meet one-hundred-and-forty-two days, a most agreeable work situation that should leave Congressman Smith with ample time to come home and hold public meetings with constituents, yet when he is back here in rural Missouri he appears to studiously avoid arranged public meetings, and when he does show up he exhibits a "pattern" of sudden appearances with little advance notice.

What is Congressman Smith afraid of?  Is he concerned that if he stumbles into an unstructured situation somebody might ask him a question that would make him uncomfortable - a question such as how can he, in good conscience and as a Sunday School teacher, keep voting to take affordable health care away from thousands of his constituents? 

Americans have questions, and citizens of the "show me" state by their very nature want to be shown why certain solutions are better than others.  If Congressman Smith values the concerns of the voting public as highly as those of his corporate donors, then he needs to make an effort to hold some town halls and give voters access to their representative.

We've had enough of your surprises, Congressman Smith.  If you really want to know what your constituents are thinking, schedule a meeting - one with plenty of advance notice.

I'll be there.  You can count on it!

Another Day, Another Call to Ol' Roy Blunt

by Pa Rock
Voter

The prevailing strategy to relieve millions of Americans of their healthcare seems to be entirely focused on wearing down the resistance.  Republicans don't even try to pretend that they are crafting legislation that would adequately replace the plan that they are so hellbent on destroying.  They just keep throwing out inadequate proposals hoping that this time they will somehow or another reach the magic number they need to destroy one more piece of Obama's formidable legacy.

The Senate is now on its fourth attempt to repeal and replace Obamacare, with the emphasis on "repeal."  Most of the Republicans in the Senate don't care what, if anything, replaces Obamacare as long as they can manage to deprive healthcare to the working poor.   It is almost as though they are on a quest from God, albeit a mean and perverse God.

Graham-Cassidy, the latest Senate attempt at repeal and replace, promotes a replacement that would rely on "block grants," or federal money given to the states so that they could establish their own programs.  The grants would be underfunded and unworkable, but still the states could spend that money however they danged well pleased.

Today I phoned the office of my state's Republican senator, Ol' Roy Blunt.  Ol' Roy didn't answer the phone, of course, because he's too busy puttering around his three-million-dollar Washington, DC, area home and making sure the Senate passes no bills that would harm Kraft Foods, but his man "Andy" did pick up on the first ring.  Andy listened politely as I voiced my concerns about the inadequacy of underfunded block grants to provide medical care to Missourians, and my contention that this bill would result in the closure of rural hospitals, like the one here in West Plains, and shut the doors of many rural clinics.  When I had finished venting my spleen, Andy said, "Thank you, Rocky.  I'll let the senator know that you are opposed to the bill."

Yes, I am opposed to the bill - and the previous three - and probably the next three as well.  Doesn't the Senate have anything constructive that it can be doing?  Blunt is the de facto head of a coven of lobbyists.  Surely they have other interests that could benefit from some attention by the Senate.

Give it a break, Goobers.  Don't expect America to sit back and quietly give up its healthcare coverage until you are ready to give up yours.  Show me that bill and then maybe I'll quit calling.

But probably not.

Could Things Get Any Moore Strange in Alabama?

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

There is a Republican primary election next Tuesday in Alabama that will determine which of two ambitious politicians will ultimately earn the right to represent their party in the race to fill the Senate seat recently held by Jeff Sessions.  The race is between the appointed incumbent, Luther Strange, who, as the state's attorney general, was widely thought to have abandoned an investigation of the state's governor so that that same individual would appoint him to the vacant senate seat - which he did, and a Bible-spouting lawyer, Roy Moore, who has twice been forced out as Chief Justice of the Alabama Supreme Court due to conflicts that he created over religion.

Strange, by virtue of his brief incumbency, has attracted lots of campaign cash and the support of such "strange" bedfellows as Donald Trump and Mitch McConnell.  Moore, who has far less funding than his opponent, also has some noteworthy public support from political powerhouses like Steve Bannon and Sarah Palin - as well as one of the Duck Dynasty hillbillies.  With only seven days left in which to campaign, most polls show Roy Moore with a significant lead.

The Senate race in Alabama is mean and getting meaner.  Both sides are accusing the other of being a part of "the swamp," with Strange being portrayed as carrying water for Mitch McConnell and Moore being cast as a part of the Mobile (Alabama) corrupt political machine.  And whoever ultimately prevails will still not be assured of six years at the public trough because the Republican nominee will still have to face a Democrat , former U.S.  Attorney Doug Jones, in the fall.  And with feelings this bitter, it is not inconceivable that Jones could win.

Donald Trump is planning a trip to Alabama this week to personally campaign for Luther Strange, a journey that will give the blowhard New Yorker some degree of ownership of Strange's ultimate success or failure.  It is a risk, and apparently one that Trump deems worth taking.  It could be a smart political move, or, perhaps more likely, Trump's trip south could be a sign of things to come - a very, very long midterm campaign season in which Republicans fight ruthlessly to rip each other asunder.

2018 may be a year of bloody Republican primaries - and, if it is, it couldn't happen to a more deserving bunch of folks.  Here's hoping The Donald makes time to personally become involved in each and every one!

Monday's Poetry: "The Wanderlust"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

From my perch by the living room window I am struck by the wandering nature of the fowl who reside here at Rock's Roost.  There are four varieties of domestic farm fowl who call The Roost home, and each has its own distinctive roaming patterns.

The chickens, which in reality are two hens and eight roosters, stick very close to the chicken coop during the day, and it is rare when they drift more that twenty-five feet from their abode.  The two little hens, in fact, spend most of their time inside of the coop, perhaps due to the pronounced gender imbalance within their community.

The five geese also sleep in the chicken coop, reluctantly allowing themselves to be shooed in right at dark and then bursting forth in gleeful anticipation of a new day when the coop door is opened just before dawn.  They roam the entire yard, but have the good sense to stop at the road.

The guineas, who for the past couple of years have numbered only three, also sleep in the coop, generally going in voluntarily as it starts to get dark.   During the day they roam much of the neighborhood, and are not afraid to cross the road, albeit quickly.  Guineas establish a touring pattern and can generally be found in the same locations at the same times throughout the day - seldom varying from their schedule.

The peacocks, who were confined in an aviary and barn for their first three years at The Roost, have been running free for the past few weeks, and they are busy establishing their roaming patterns.  The first few days the peacocks (two actual peacocks and five peahens) were loose, they would return to their pen each evening to be locked up for safety.  Soon the two peacocks and four of the hens decided that they preferred to roost in the treetops, and they gave up the pen.  One hen, however,  continued to show up each evening to be locked safely into the pen.

Now one peahen, perhaps the one who was sleeping on her own in the pen, appears to have taken up residence on down the road.  I hear her calling the others most mornings, but they ignore her pleas to come visit.  The remaining six roam the neighborhood, much as the guineas do.   They still sleep at The Roost in a pair of their favorite trees.

Rock's Roost, it would seem, has become the home base of a multitude of feathered wanderers.  To honor these free spirits, I have chosen as this week's poetry selection, "The Wanderlust," by one of my favorite poet's - Robert W. Service.  It is an introspective piece in which the poet discusses his lifetime of wanderings and anticipates his final trek, the one that will lead him into the unknown territory of  eternity.

Please enjoy this piece by America's gold rush poet who did so much to chronicle life on the Alaskan frontier.  There is much to be said for wanderlust.


The Wanderlust
by Robert W. Service

The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas,
Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chairs of ease,
Has hurled me to the ends of all the earth.
How bitterly I've cursed it, oh, the Painted Desert knows,
The wraithlike heights that hug the pallid plain,
The all-but-fluid silence, -- yet the longing grows and grows,
And I've got to glut the Wanderlust again.

Soldier, sailor, in what a plight I've been!
Tinker, tailor, oh what a sight I've seen!
And I'm hitting the trail in the morning, boys,
And you won't see my heels for dust;
For it's "all day" with you
When you answer the cue
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has got me . . . by the belly-aching fire,
By the fever and the freezing and the pain;
By the darkness that just drowns you, by the wail of home desire,
I've tried to break the spell of it -- in vain.
Life might have been a feast for me, now there are only crumbs;
In rags and tatters, beggar-wise I sit;
Yet there's no rest or peace for me, imperious it drums,
The Wanderlust, and I must follow it.

Highway, by-way, many a mile I've done;
Rare way, fair way, many a height I've won;
But I'm pulling my freight in the morning, boys,
And it's over the hills or bust;
For there's never a cure
When you list to the lure
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has taught me . . . it has whispered to my heart
Things all you stay-at-homes will never know.
The white man and the savage are but three short days apart,
Three days of cursing, crawling, doubt and woe.
Then it's down to chewing muclucs, to the water you can eat,
To fish you bolt with nose held in your hand.
When you get right down to cases, it's King's Grub that rules the races,
And the Wanderlust will help you understand.

Haunting, taunting, that is the spell of it;
Mocking, baulking, that is the hell of it;
But I'll shoulder my pack in the morning, boys,
And I'm going because I must;
For it's so-long to all
When you answer the call
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has blest me . . . in a ragged blanket curled,
I've watched the gulf of Heaven foam with stars;
I've walked with eyes wide open to the wonder of the world,
I've seen God's flood of glory burst its bars.
I've seen the gold a-blinding in the riffles of the sky,
Till I fancied me a bloated plutocrat;
But I'm freedom's happy bond-slave, and I will be till I die,
And I've got to thank the Wanderlust for that.

Wild heart, child heart, all of the world your home.
Glad heart, mad heart, what can you do but roam?
Oh, I'll beat it once more in the morning, boys,
With a pinch of tea and a crust;
For you cannot deny
When you hark to the cry
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust will claim me at the finish for its own.
I'll turn my back on men and face the Pole.
Beyond the Arctic outposts I will venture all alone;
Some Never-never Land will be my goal.
Thank God! there's none will miss me, for I've been a bird of flight;
And in my moccasins I'll take my call;
For the Wanderlust has ruled me,
And the Wanderlust has schooled me,
And I'm ready for the darkest trail of all.

Grim land, dim land, oh, how the vastness calls!
Far land, star land, oh, how the stillness falls!
For you never can tell if it's heaven or hell,
And I'm taking the trail on trust;
But I haven't a doubt
That my soul will leap out
On its Wan-der-lust.

"Tatterdemalion" Set to Premier at Heartland Film Festival

by Pa Rock
Proud Father

"Tatterdemalion," a feature-length motion picture which was filmed in and around West Plains, Missouri, in the summer of 2015, is set to have it's world premier at the Heartland Film Festival in Indianapolis next month.  The film's lead actress, Leven Ramblin, who has had roles in "The Hunger Games" and "Chasing Mavericks" will be in attendance, as will the movie's director, Ramaa Mosley, and the film's writer, Tim Macy.

Pa Rock will also be there - puffed up like a proud old toad!

"Tatterdemalion" is the second movie collaboration of Mosley and Macy.  Their first, "The Brass Teapot," premiered at the Toronto Film Festival in 2012.   (Pa Rock was at that one, too!)  The film was distributed by Magnolia Pictures and was eventually featured on both Showtime and Netflix.  It was also reviewed in several prominent publications including The New York Times and Variety, and was nominated for the International Critics Award and the Saturn Award.

The central character of "Tatterdemalion" is Fern Sreaves, a veteran of the wars in the Middle East who returns home to attend the funeral of her father and to search for her wayward brother.  As she is becoming readjusted to the unique pace of life in the Ozarks, Fern discovers a young boy living alone in the woods, and that discovery leads her on a quest to both care for the abandoned child and discover his story.  Several local actors are also featured in this clever tale which is rich in Ozark traditions and folklore.

This year's Heartland Film Festival will feature a record 213 films from 104 countries.  "Tatterdemalion" will be shown at 2:30 p.m. on October 14th.

The popcorn is on me!

Jemele Hill Nails It

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

A few days ago ESPN sportscaster Jemele Hill took to her Twitter account where she called Donald Trump a "white supremacist."  Shockingly, Trump and his white entourage took offense.  Here is some of what Ms. Hill had to say in response to remarks from another tweeter:

"Donald Trump is a white supremacist who has largely surrounded himself w/ other white supremacists."

"Trump is the most ignorant, offensive president of my lifetime. His rise is a direct result of white supremacy. Period."

"He has surrounded himself with white supremacists -- no they are not "alt right" -- and you want me to believe he isn't a white supremacist?"

Sarah Snarls:  Trump press tool Sarah Huckabee Sanders wanted to make sure that the nation, and particularly ESPN, understood her view that Ms. Hill's exercise of her First Amendment free speech rights was a "fireable" offense, particularly in the age of Trump.  Surely stating something that most nine-year-olds recognize as a gold-standard fact is far less "fireable" than using a publicly-funded position to lie to Americans about all manner of things day-after-day.  But still Sarah rattles on as if she matters an iota in the grand scheme of things.

Trump Dumps:  Donald Trump followed up a day or two later with a demand for an apology, though exactly for what remains uncertain.  Surely he wasn't offended by the "supremacist" part of the comment because he is fairly open in his contempt of everyone else in the world.   Trump was brought up to feel that he was supreme to others, and he wears his supremacy almost like a religious robe.  So what is the problem, Donald?  Are you denying being white?    Not everyone was weaned on reality television, Donnie, and there are people out there who flat-out don't like your vulgarity, selfishness, and abhorrent ego.  It might also help if you quit repeating your racist response to the violence in Charlottesville.

As of this morning we are still a free country with a whole list of civil liberties enshrined in our Constitution.  The first and foremost of those liberties is a right to speak freely.  People who choose to run for public office voluntarily place themselves in position where they are apt to draw criticism - some of which may be deemed to be unfair, and some of which does little more than to state the obvious.   Donald Trump chose to make himself the center of national attention, and Jemele Hill chose to take a few potshots at the persona which Trump has so carefully crafted for himself.

Donald Trump has a First Amendment right to associate with - and even defend - racists and bigots, and Jemele Hill has the same right to point out behaviors which many decent people find offensive.   

ESPN doesn't need to fire anyone, but America does.

To McCounty and Back Again

by Pa Rock
Road Warrior

Today I was on the road for a hurried round trip back to my old stomping grounds in extreme southwest Missouri - a total drive of 403 miles.  It was a day spent with old friends that included a visit to a library, lunch in a trendy cellar, some time talking to a couple of friends in a nursing home, and, sadly, attendance at a funeral.  I encountered some people whom I hadn't seen in decades.

Nursing homes and funerals - this phase of life has slipped up on me!

The drive was uneventful, no bumper stickers or other things of interest popped up to amuse or anger me as I ripped up and down the highway.  I did see one interesting bumper sticker yesterday here in West Plains.  A young man displayed a sticker on the rear of his car that said "I Don't Listen to the Liberal Media."  "Good," I thought, "You probably can't handle the truth!" 

Hopefully I can stay close to the farm for the next couple of weeks - and then I will be off for a weekend in Kansas City where son Tim and I have tickets to see "Kinky Boots" at the Starlight Theatre.  That will be a nice way to welcome Fall!

Motel 6 Leaves the Light On for Immigration Raids

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

The Phoenix New Times is, without question,  the best newspaper in the Valley of Hell.  It picked fights with out-of-control Sheriff Joe Arpaio for years and was instrumental in bringing many of the scandals involving the dubious lawman to light - often while the Valley's other news sources seemed to be providing cover for the misadventures of the maniacal sheriff.     The Phoenix New Times railed on Arpaio as he posed very real threats to the safety and lives of the residents of Maricopa County, particularly immigrants from Mexico, and burned through vast amounts of public revenue.  It was the New Times, perhaps more than any other news venue, which ultimately served to enrage the voting public to the point where Arpaio was voted out of office in 2016, even as the same county electorate gave its stamp of approval to Arpaio's hero, Donald Trump - bigly.

But just because Joe Arpaio and his twenty-year war on immigrants is finally off of the daily radar does not mean that The Phoenix New Times has folded its tent and slunk quietly off into the desert.  Just this week the venerable publication broke another story, which, though not about Arpaio directly, certainly relates to his unhinged and prolonged war on people with brown skin.

This week the New Times reported that at least two Motel 6's in the Phoenix area had been routinely sending Homeland Security's Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency (ICE) morning rosters of everyone who had checked into their units during the previous day and evening.  The reporting revealed that at least twenty "guests" at Motel 6's in the Phoenix area had been arrested by ICE agents.

The motel chain is blaming the problem on a couple of its individual motels and said that the practice only came to light last week and it has been stopped.  Law enforcement is barred by a Supreme Court decision of 2015 from forcing hotels to turn over guest information, so it seems likely that some members of staff made a decision to voluntarily release private guest information to ICE.  So far the motel chain has reported no reprimands or firings over the matter.

As these rogue Motel 6 units were providing the names of all guests to an agency of the federal government, that might also be of interest to the gun-shoppers who come from out of state to buy Arizona weapons by the truckload.

The lights are still on, for now at least - but Tom Bodett has some 'splainin' to do!

Confederate Monuments: History, Art, or Propaganda?

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

This past Sunday morning as I was driving through northwest Arkansas I happened to hear a segment on a local National Public Radio (NPR) station about a controversy that was brewing over a Confederate monument at the center of the Bentonville, Arkansas, town square.  Two groups of local citizens appear to be busy passing petitions regarding the bronze statue of a Confederate soldier standing atop a large stone pedestal.  One group wants to remove the statue from its public perch, and the other petition seeks to preserve it - as history.

As a part of the story, the local NPR affiliate located an individual working at a college in Texas who had written her college thesis on that very statue.  The researcher gave an interesting perspective on the piece, noting that it was not erected during the Civil War era, but was paid for and erected by the Daughters of the Confederacy nearly fifty years later as an embellishment to the Jim Crow laws that were on the rise across the South.  Some felt that blacks had their heyday during the Reconstruction Era which immediately followed the Civil War, and by the beginning of the twentieth century it was time for southern whites to reassert their dominance in society.  Statues honoring service in the Confederacy were subtle ways of reminding blacks of their place on the bottom rung of the social ladder.

The college researcher noted that many of the Confederate monuments across the South had their origins in the Jim Crow period of the early twentieth century.  She also noted that while many of the statues might have plaques honoring specific individuals, the statues themselves were generic and often mass-produced.  She said that the statue in the Bentonville square was one of many stuck from that same mold that are still on display throughout the south.

The lonely sentinel standing atop the stone pedestal in Bentonville is historical in that it serves to remind us of the bloodiest epoch in our national existence, but beyond its historical significance, it serves as a statement of defiance and intolerance.  It is a very real insult to the millions of Americans who are descendants of the human chattel that Confederate soldiers fought to keep shackled in the chains of slavery.

The statue is history, but it is ugly history.

And it is art, albeit mass-produced art like the posters hanging on the walls of my living room.  They are art, but they will never be put on the auction block at Sotheby's.  These bronze soldiers were made on-the-cheap in northern foundries, they crumple when they are pulled down, and they would be just as at home in Walmart garden centers as they are in public venues.

But perhaps more than anything else, these monuments to a lost cause are propaganda, curiosities placed in public places to tell a story from a particular perspective - and in this case that perspective is intended to be hurtful to a large segment of the public.

We are all the results of history, and its impact on our lives and who we are cannot be denied.  But time flows forward and each day we must step bravely into the future.  We change, day by day, and we create more history as we go.  The world is not static, it changes and evolves.

If a Confederate monument is an important part of your heritage, then by all means honor that and keep it someplace safe - such as in a museum.  The place where it does not belong is out in front of people whose ancestors were kept in subjugation by the people those monuments honor.   Most Confederate memorials in public settings were erected for intimidation, and today they remain as taunts.

As a nation we must move past that.

What Divides America

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Yesterday was the 16th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on America which brought down both towers of the World Trade Center in New York City and punched a big whole in the Pentagon.  In addition to thousands of lives lost on the ground, the crew and passengers of four commercial airliners also perished.

We all know the story of the attacks and their aftermath.  A couple of dozen young Saudi Arabians commandeered the passenger planes while they were in the air and, in three cases, managed to fly them into their designated targets.  The hijackers in the fourth plane had their plans interrupted when passengers staged a physical revolt.  Those hijackers opted to crash their plane into a Pennsylvania field rather than try to reach the U.S. Capitol.  Our glorious leader at the time, George W. Bush, (once he came out of hiding), promptly sent all members of the Saudi royal family home and then declared war on Iraq.  Not too long after that he also began pursuing war in Afghanistan, a war that rages to this very day.

A reporter on National Public Radio (NPR) yesterday asked several individuals about their memories of what they were doing on the day of the attacks, and then followed up with a query as to whether those people felt that the attacks served to unify America.  One young man - who sounded remarkably like one of my neighbors from further on down the road - said that he felt the events of 9/11 did bring the country together, but that now, sadly, the media was tearing it apart.

It was, I surmised, a stunning conclusion on his part, given the facts at play in the world in which I live.

Donald Trump has told this young man and all of my other neighbors who live further on down the road that the media lies and that it is tearing America apart - and those poor folk believe him with all their hearts and souls.  Anything that shows the world in terms that make them uncomfortable obviously can't be right - and then when Trump himself yells "fake news" or ridicules a journalist from his High Podium,  their fears are encased in cement and made real.

Of course, this particular neighbor and all of the others who drink from the same pitcher of Trump kool-aid are not completely wrong.  Our country is being torn apart and our historical values tested as they have never been before.  The source of the disharmony and outrage, however, is not the media nearly as much as it is our leader.  Donald Trump campaigned by pitting elements of society against one another, and sadly he governs the same way.

We are no longer a nation indivisible, we are a patchwork country of special interests who are being encouraged  to turn on one another.   The person who has worked so successfully to destroy our national unity is Donald John Trump.  Every day he and his administration work tirelessly to drive wedges into society and split us apart.  Separate and unequal - that's how Trump likes us.  Disunity feeds his libido and sustains his power.

What America needs is a world class leader with the heart, soul, and intellect to bring us together.  What we have is a greedy, self-serving, narcissist demagogue solely focused on feathering his own nest.  It feels like a truly bad reality television show.

Donald Trump is tearing America apart, and he is doing it intentionally.

Mondya's Poetry: "The Hurricane"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

Nineteenth century writer and poet William Cullen Bryant was perhaps best known as the editor of the New York Evening Post, a position which he held for over fifty years, and he was also politically active throughout much of his life.

Nature is a fairly constant theme in Bryant's poetry, and in 1854 he wrote "The Hurricane," a piece that was undoubtedly based on a first-hand observation.   Much of the imagery that he evoked then still appears to be relevant to the destruction that recent hurricanes have brought  to our shores.

Friends in Florida, please stay safe!


The Hurricane
by William Cullen Bryant

Lord of the winds! I feel thee nigh,
I know thy breath in the burning sky!
And I wait, with a thrill in every vein,
For the coming of the hurricane!

And lo! on the wing of the heavy gales,
Through the boundless arch of heaven he sails;
Silent and slow, and terribly strong,
The mighty shadow is borne along,
Like the dark eternity to come;
While the world below, dismayed and dumb,
Through the calm of the thick hot atmosphere
Looks up at its gloomy folds with fear.

They darken fast; and the golden blaze
Of the sun is quenched in the lurid haze,
And he sends through the shade a funeral ray--
A glare that is neither night nor day,
A beam that touches, with hues of death,
The clouds above and the earth beneath.
To its covert glides the silent bird,
While the hurricane's distant voice is heard,
Uplifted among the mountains round,
And the forests hear and answer the sound.

He is come! he is come! do ye not behold
His ample robes on the wind unrolled?
Giant of air! we bid thee hail!--
How his gray skirts toss in the whirling gale;
How his huge and writhing arms are bent,
To clasp the zone of the firmament,
And fold at length, in their dark embrace,
From mountain to mountain the visible space.

Darker--still darker! the whirlwinds bear
The dust of the plains to the middle air:
And hark to the crashing, long and loud,
Of the chariot of God in the thunder-cloud!
You may trace its path by the flashes that start
From the rapid wheels where'er they dart,
As the fire-bolts leap to the world below,
And flood the skies with a lurid glow.

What roar is that?--'tis the rain that breaks
In torrents away from the airy lakes,
Heavily poured on the shuddering ground,
And shedding a nameless horror round.
Ah! well known woods, and mountains, and skies,
With the very clouds!--ye are lost to my eyes.
I seek ye vainly, and see in your place
The shadowy tempest that sweeps through space,
A whirling ocean that fills the wall
Of the crystal heaven, and buries all.
And I, cut off from the world, remain
Alone with the terrible hurricane. 

Bad Gramma

by Pa Rock
Character Collector

Rosie and I have spent so much quality time together this weekend that she has gone into seclusion beneath the couch, apparently relishing a bit of privacy.

We made a hurried trip across the state to extreme southwest Missouri yesterday where we visited a friend in a nursing home and had some interactions with a couple of other friends.  Rosie was a hit at the nursing home as we sat out front on the porch and my friend, who is currently non-verbal, seemed to enjoy petting and playing with her.  Rosie, never a shy girl, really liked putting on a show for all of the old folks. who were outside getting some sun and fresh air.  Later we went to Aunt Gail's in Fayetteville, Arkansas.  Rosie always has a good time at Aunt Gail's and jumps in the air and spins whenever I tell her that we are headed out to see my younger sister.

Last night we went to a barbecue at the home of my rich nephew, Justin, and his beautiful wife, Lisa.  My other nephew, Reed, and his equally beautiful wife, Jamie, were also there.  The food and company were exceptional!  Thanks, guys.

Our trip home was across northern Arkansas and was uneventful - and we got back around noon.  Later this afternoon I headed into town for an iced tea and lottery tickets.  Rosie, who was by then ready to hit the road again, hopped in for the ride.  I left her locked in the car while I went into a local quick stop.  When I emerged a young couple was standing at the car staring in a Rosie - and Rosie was parked in the driver's seat staring back.  The fellow asked me how long I had "him," and I replied that I "she" had been with me three years.  It turns out the guy thought he had found his missing dog which he described as being a male Chihuahua with features and markings exactly like Rosie.  I got suckered into a conversation and asked how he had lost his dog, and he replied that he had given him to his grandmother to watch, and while the little dog was with Gramma she sold him!

The couple was parked next to me in a mini-van - with no evidence of children.  Hopefully they hadn't let Gramma babysit for the kids, too!

One, Two, and the Pig Flew

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

It's a particularly satisfying feeling when a belching bag of excrement gets his comeuppance while the whole world is watching.

Last week radio blowhard Rush Limbaugh told his listening audience that Hurricane Irma was "a hoax" designed to whip up a "panic" and exaggerate the dangers of "so-called" climate change.  According to Rush, the idea that a massive hurricane was going to devastate Florida was nothing more than just another liberal fake news story.

Today, of course, Irma is ravaging almost the entire state of Florida, and the injuries, deaths, and property damage are expected to be astronomical.

But what about Palm Beach, Florida, resident Rush Limbaugh?   His ditto-heads do not need to worry because Rush jumped in his Lear Jet and got the hell out of harm's way before that big bad gale of liberal fake news showed up to try and blow his house down.

Hopefully he had time to pack - or to at least save his stash of OxyContin.

BritBox Disappoints

by Pa Rock
TV Junkie

I continue to be proud of the fact that I cancelled my satellite television service way back in early 2015 and am getting along just fine without current programming and commercials, thank you very much.   For awhile I got my television fix through DVDs and watching YouTube and Hulu on the Internet.  Them my son hooked me up with a Roku streaming device, and from that point on I have had access to literally more television programing than I could handle - and all without commercials.

I rely on two primary sources for the programs that I watch on the Roku - Amazon and Netflix.  Access to Amazon did not cost me any extra out-of-pocket because I was already a member of Amazon Prime.  Netflix is around ten dollars a month, considerably less than I was paying for the satellite service.  Both of those providers enable access to movies as well as popular television programming.  Both also market original movies and series which they develop and produce themselves - usually high-quality viewing.

If I could only have one of those two programming providers, I would choose Netflix.  With Netflix a viewer has a complete and honest choice among its hundreds of offerings - which are updated monthly.  Amazon also has a good variety, but with Amazon viewers don't always have automatic access to the offerings.   One annoying trait of Amazon is that it will occasionally lead viewers on with free access to a season or two of a really good show, one like the PBS series "Poldark," and then, after the viewers are hooked, throw in a charge for the next season.


Also, sometimes there is an intervening service to which one must subscribe in order  to see certain programs.  Amazon will entice viewers to click on programs, and then a notice will pop up saying that to access that particular show viewers will need to subscribe to Acorn, Masterpiece, or some other service.  With Netflix one gets what one clicks on - but that's not always the case with Amazon.

My favorite genre of programming is British television shows, both comedy and drama, produced by the BBC - and I am a particular fan of British detective programs and mysteries like "Midsomer Murders," "Luther,"  "A Touch of Frost,"  "Jonathan Creek,"  "Dalziel and Pascoe,"  "Rosemary and Thyme,"  "Death in Paradise," "Poirot," and  "Miss Marple."  Recently while trying to access a British detective/mystery offering from Amazon, I learned that I could only get to it through a service called BritBox.  After a brief bit of investigation it became clear that this new service was the Holy Grail of British offerings.

I was connected to BritBox about a week ago and dived right into the buffet of great programs.  Sadly, the experience was a bust.  The shows were available, alright, for anywhere from five to thirty seconds at a whack, and then they would disappear as the service spent several long minutes rebooting.  Over the past week I have managed to watch two 50-minute episodes of "Hettie Wainthrope Investigates" (starring comic genius Patricia Routledge of "Keeping Up Appearances" fame), an endeavor which took several hours to complete. 

The Roku operates off of the Internet service in my home, and while that service sometimes is below what I would hope for,  Netflix and Amazon operate relatively interference free.  I was left to deduce that the problem with BritBox was based with the provider - and reluctantly cancelled the service

BritBox is a new subscription service and a few start-up problems are to be expected - but the offering is, at my place at least, unwatchable in its current form.  I hope they can get the bugs worked out eventually provide all of that great British entertainment that America deserves.  For now, however, it is a dream deferred.

Dolores Huerta Marches On

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

As a licensed clinical social worker of long standing, I have to stay constantly focused on earning Continuing Education Units (credits) - also known as CEUs - in order to keep my license renewed and current.  Usually that involves time spent in boring classes held in remote or inconvenient locations, or long hours in front of a computer screen taking on-line courses.  It is a necessary part of staying current in my professional training that often proves to be tedious and expensive - but not always.


Back in late 2006 when I was plying my trade as a civilian social worker at the army base at Ft. Campbell, Kentucky,  I came across an opportunity to earn CEU's that was unique in that it held the potential for having a bit of fun as I became educated.  The National Association of Social Workers was joining forces with Ms. Magazine and sponsoring a "feminist cruise" across the Caribbean that would offer enough CEUs to meet half of my two-year requirement as well as present an opportunity to interact with some preeminent figures of the feminist movement.

At the time I was working for a civilian contracting agency that offered, as part of its employment package, assistance in paying for CEUs.  I called my contractor and asked if that payment could include chipping in on a cruise.  To my surprise and delight, the contracting agency kicked in nearly half of the cost for the tropical adventure.

The cruise left from Ft. Lauderdale, made a stop in Key West, and then sailed on southward to Mexico and Central America where we visited ports in Belize, Honduras, and Guatemala.  There were sightseeing excursions at each of the ports - such as one that I took to a American-owned banana plantation where some of the labor was being performed by children.   Most of the "education," however, occurred shipboard while we were at sea.  It was there that lectures, programs, and small group sessions were held and social workers who had come along were able to earn their CEU's.

The group was small enough (probably less than 200 total) that it was easy to interact with the celebrities who were in attendance and often directing the educational efforts.  The first night of the cruise, at a booze and cheese reception, Eleanor Smeal, a founder of The Feminist Majority and a former president of the National Organization of Women (NOW), came up and introduced herself to me with a cheery "Hi, I'm Ellie Smeal."   She was an engaging conversationalist and seemed particularly interested in hearing about life on an army base.  Later, at that same event, I took the initiative and introduced myself to Tyne Daly, the actress, and also found her to be personable and engaging.

Other fellow travelers that I remember encountering on that cruise were Dr. Martha Burk (an author who gave a stinging indictment of Walmart), pollster Celinda Lake, and LaDonna Harris whom I had previously met at a campaign stop in 1972 when her husband, former Oklahoma Senator Fred Harris, briefly ran for president before being knocked out in the primaries by Jimmy Carter.

But all of those celebrities were just the second string as far as I was concerned.  The real star of the whole trip was Dolores Huerta, a civil rights and labor icon whose social protests reached back into the 1950's.  Huerta served alongside Cesar Chavez in the struggles to unionize migrant field laborers, and she had been on the stage with Bobby Kennedy in Los Angeles just minutes before he was shot and killed.

Dolores Huerta spoke to one of the workshops about prisoners rights in California.  At that time I was working with a foster student whose mother was in prison in California, and Ms. Huerta and I had a discussion about her case.  She gave me the names of some people to contact in California - and, more importantly, she expressed a sincere interest in the case.  (The mother - actually an adoptive grandmother - was elderly and infirm and was eventually released for humanitarian reasons.)

And the reason I am thinking of Dolores Huerta  is that DailyKos has chosen to publish a piece on her today focusing on her continuing activism - at the age of eighty-seven!  Dolores is not happy with Trump, and she is livid about his efforts to end DACA.  But the seasoned fighter sees some good in with the bad, noting that Trump is serving to fire up progressive activists.   She was quoted as saying that she thinks the '60s are back.

I hope she is right.  It would be a comfort to realize that something positive has germinated in the terrible time of Trump.

The DailyKos piece ended with this challenge and call to action:

"May we all find the tenacity and courage to actively organize and fight this battle in whatever ways we can—and may we all channel our own inner Dolores. "

That would be a truly worthy goal for any of us.   Dolores Huerta is a beacon of tolerance and justice from out past that needs to forever shine into the future.

The Second Coming May Be Upon Us

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

With storm clouds from Hurricane Harvey still visible in the rear view mirror, the struggle to clean up and rebuild the coastal areas of Texas and Louisiana that were devastated by ferocious storm system has already begun.  Donald Trump asked Congress for $7.9 billion in aid for the stricken areas, but Texas Governor Greg Abbott believes that $180 billion might be a more realistic request.   Conservative estimates suggest that a complete recovery from the horrors inflicted by Harvey will take years to achieve.

The National Weather Service in describing Hurricane Harvey said:

“This event is unprecedented and all impacts are unknown and beyond anything experienced.”

But Harvey is just the first gut punch of this hurricane season.  Irma, which originated in the Atlantic, is now a Category Five hurricane and whipping into the Caribbean.  Weather models indicate that it is likely to reach Florida by this weekend.   While Irma was still out in the Atlantic it was being touted as the most powerful hurricane ever to exist outside of the Caribbean Sea.  It's a biggie, and Irma is going to do some serious damage wherever it happens to come ashore.

(A good friend living in Key West has already evacuated and is en route to sanctuary in Atlanta.  Stay safe, Coretta!)

Irma is gut punch number two. 

Jose, also based in the Atlantic, is on deck to follow Irma toward the Caribbean and southeastern United States.  It will be this season's third gut punch - and after him Katia is already forming.

Harvey was "unprecedented," and Irma, before she even got to the Caribbean, was "the most powerful hurricane to ever exist."  And then there will be Jose, and Katia, and who knows how many others. 

It's looking as though this will be one hell of a hurricane season.  Trump's request of nearly eight billion dollars for rebuilding from Hurricane Harvey may seem like little more than chump change after all of this year's storm bills are submitted for payment.

None of the great scientific minds that Trump has appointed to head the various federal agencies associated with the environment know what is going on, or, if they do they aren't at liberty to share that information with the unwashed masses.  We must accept the word of our government that four feet or more of rainfall within a few hours has nothing to do with climate change.  We must accept the assurances of demonstrably un-Christian people that any change in weather patterns has more to do willful sin and lesbian mayors than it does with man's misuse of the planet.

It's like we are witnessing the Second Coming - of the Dark Ages.

Trump Prepares to Pass the Buck on Dreamers

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Within the next hour or so Donald Trump is expected to announce his plan for ending the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) executive order initiated by President Obama more than five years ago.  The Obama program, which has proven to be very popular with the American public, has allowed young people who arrived in the United States illegally, but as children, to remain in the country as they pursued education and jobs.  Under the Obama plan, these individuals who had no control over their parents' decision to break United States immigration law have been allowed to apply for two-year renewable permits that allowed them to avoid deportation.

Many Americans view DACA as an overt act of kindness and fairness, but others in this country are not so understanding.  Donald Trump spoke to America's intolerant element during the campaign when he promised to "immediately" end the DACA program after his election.  "Immediately," of course, did not happen, and now the political blunderbuss is returning to his promise with much less gusto and personal involvement.

The intensity within the White House to end DACA, often mischaracterized as the "dreamer" program, waned as the nativists who followed Trump to Washington, people like Steve Bannon and Simon Gorka, began losing influence and disappearing from the scene.  But Trump, who has of late been besieged with scandals, investigations, and political pressures from a variety of sources, has felt the need to reignite his base.  To that end, he has, of late, been stoking the fires of intolerance with renewed talk of border walls and tax reform.

A key part of the Trump plan to make America whiter was the elimination of the DACA program.  But now some prominent members of his own party are expressing their reluctance to send this emerging talent pool back to countries that many of them haven't seen since they were infants.  Trump, ever mindful of his sinking approval ratings, is reportedly going to punt on this lightening rod issue and "defer" the implementation of his decision to end the program for six months while Congress tries to pass a permanent measure that would protect this vulnerable set of individuals.

If House Speaker Paul Ryan and his "moderate" buddies want to save the program, here is their opportunity - but if Congress fails to act, as it seems to almost constantly do, them the removal of these young people is on them.  The Donald's hands are clean.

Donald John's hands will also be clean when it comes to handling today's announcement.  Instead of him stepping up to the microphones and personally crushing the hopes of millions of deserving young people and their families, he is turning that task over to his evil little toad, Attorney General Jeff Sessions.

And Jefferson Beauregard Sessions, III, has no qualms whatsoever in deporting brown people and crushing dreams.

Monday's Poetry: "Street Musicians"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

American poet John Ashbery passed away yesterday at the age of ninety in his home state of New York.  Ashbery, who won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1976 - as well as nearly every American award for poetry, was widely recognized as one of this nation's preeminent word stylists.  Many regarded Ashbery as one of the most distinctive poets of the last fifty years.

To honor this great man of letters, I have chosen "Street Musicians" which was written in 1977, the year after he won the Pulitzer Prize, the National Book Critics Circle Award, and the National Book Award, a period of time when he was certainly at the height of his poetic prowess.  This poem is from Ashbery's collection entitled Houseboat Days.  To me this piece is a cold look at growing old - but make of it what you will.


Street Musicians
by John Ashbery

One died, and the soul was wrenched out
Of the other in life, who, walking the streets
Wrapped in an identity like a coat, sees on and on
The same corners, volumetrics, shadows
Under trees. Farther than anyone was ever
Called, through increasingly suburban airs
And ways, with autumn falling over everything:
The plush leaves the chattels in barrels
Of an obscure family being evicted
Into the way it was, and is. The other beached
Glimpses of what the other was up to:
Revelations at last. So they grew to hate and forget each other.

So I cradle this average violin that knows
Only forgotten showtunes, but argues
The possibility of free declamation anchored
To a dull refrain, the year turning over on itself
In November, with the spaces among the days
More literal, the meat more visible on the bone.
Our question of a place of origin hangs
Like smoke: how we picnicked in pine forests,
In coves with the water always seeping up, and left
Our trash, sperm and excrement everywhere, smeared
On the landscape, to make of us what we could.

Trump Brings His Kool-Aid to Springfield

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

Donald John Trump and I were both in Springfield, Missouri, this past Wednesday.  I drove through shortly before noon on my way home from Kansas City, and Air Force One dropped Donnie and his entourage off in the early afternoon.  Neither of us spent any more time in "The Queen City" than we had to.

Trump spoke to an invited and seated crowd at a plant that manufactures industrial fans.  The owners of the factory are well known in Missouri Republican circles and have donated over $200,000 to various state GOP candidates.  Trump said he chose Springfield for his important policy address because, being located on historic Route 66, it represents America's Main Street.  (Of course, by that standard Chicago, Amarillo, and Los Angeles are also symbolic of America's Main Street - and some would argue that those cities are far more representative of American diversity and enterprise than the cow town sitting on the edge of the Missouri Ozarks.  But that is grist for the blog posting of another day.)

It was Springfield where Trump chose to dump his major policy address - an appeal for tax reform.  The speech, like all policy spouted by the Trump administration, was light on specifics, but one thing he did touch on was the need to lower corporate taxes, something that one must assume would help Trump personally, though that is impossible to know for sure because he still refuses to release his own tax returns.

And the crowd cheered as though Trump was proposing something that would benefit them.

Missouri's Republican governor and most Republican state officeholders were there, along with the state's sole Republican senator, Ol' Roy Blunt, and six Republican congressmen - all angling to be captured in news photos with their twitterpated idol. 

Noticeably absent from the Trump love fest was the state's attorney general, Josh Hawley, who is being pressured by party leaders to run against incumbent Senator Claire McCaskill in next year's senate election.   One of Hawley's endorsers is former senator (and Ralston Purina heir) John Danforth, an Episcopalian minister who gave the sermon at Ronald Reagan's funeral.  In a recent opinion piece in the Washington Post Danforth cut loose on Trump and declared that he was doing serious damage to the Republican Party.  The minister declared:  "Our party has been corrupted by this hateful man, and it is now in peril."

Hawley has yet to disavow Danforth or his controversial remarks - and he has yet to declare his candidacy for McCaskill's senate seat.  Trump did, of course, use his Missouri podium to take a few tweet-worthy potshots at McCaskill, telling the small crowd essentially that if tax reform did not pass it would be her fault.

Those present were reportedly well sated with the vast quantities of baloney and kool-aid.

Do the honorable thing for once, Donald John, and show us your taxes!

Junior Trump Peddles His Wit and Wisdom in Texas

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

After learning that its campus would host an appearance and speech by Donald Trump, Jr., the student newspaper at the University of North Texas went to court to find out just how much of their school's money the son of a bankruptcy king would be taking home.  The staff of the publication learned from its successful use of the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) that the Trump heir would pocket a hefty six figures.

(And none of that money will have to be laundered!)

Junior Trump will receive $100,000 for a thirty-minute speech, and then, just to make sure he really earns all of that easy money, he will also have to stick around and answer thirty minutes of questions - all of which will have been submitted to him ahead of time.  There will be zero risk of a headline-grabbing "gotcha" question ruining his trip south - not for a paltry hundred grand, there won't!  Junior Trump also had to agree to pose for pictures with some of the school's dignitaries and benefactors as a part of his six-figure payday.  An extra five grand will be included to cover transportation and lodging costs.

(Remember the old days when a student would have driven his own car to the airport to pick up the speaker, and then he would have been put up for the night in a dorm room?  The Trump's don't roll that way.)

This event, a speech by Donald Trump, Jr., is not about a prominent figure sharing his knowledge on a particular topic, for indeed the only knowledge that Junior Trump possesses that people actually want to know about will require the adroit use of subpoenas.   The University of North Texas is not buying the wit and wisdom of this particular speaker.   The school is, instead, purchasing influence within the Trump White House.  When the need arises, the University of North Texas will have a chit good for a hundred grand.  The school's administrators understand that, and so does "businessman" Donald Trump.

Most political grifters at least have the common decency to wait until they leave office before trying to cash in, but common decency is a burden that will never afflict the Trump family.

That's "Mister" Peacock to You, Bub!

by Pa Rock
Farmer in Summer

Way back in the early summer of 2014, during my first year at The Roost, I learned of a family living near Willow Springs who had some baby peacocks for sale.  Having had a prior experience raising peafowl, I drove out to her farm and wound up coming home with four chicks - so small that I was able to transport all of them in one cardboard box.  They quickly settled into a combination indoor and outdoor nursery and pen that I had set up.  The birds proved to be so easy to care for that before long I bought four more from another breeder.

As the birds got older it became apparent that six of them were females (peahens) and the other two were males (peacocks).  They quickly began outgrowing the nursery complex, and  my son and I built a large aviary connected to the old ramshackle barn that had been on the farm for generations.  The new facility, like the nursery, allowed the birds to go in and out of the barn at will, while remaining safe from predators by being caged when they were outside.

During the intervening three years they had a natural increase of one (a peahen) when one of the hens managed to hatch one egg out of a nest of about a dozen eggs.  There was also an artificial increase of one other through an abandoned egg that I managed to hatch in an incubator.  The incubator baby, Cosmo, was killed by predators soon after being released outside.  Two of the grown hens were also later killed by a predator who managed to get into their aviary on two separate evenings.

This spring the peahens laid many eggs, but refused to sit and try to hatch any of them.  I ran about two dozen eggs or so through the incubator process, but none of those hatched.  It was a year without an increase in the peafowl population at The Roost.

I had kept the peafowl captive for the past three years as a safety precaution.  This year, however, I began to sense that they were unhappy being constrained, and I knew that they particularly did not like the geese parading up to the aviary and taunting them.  Last Sunday I made a carefully considered decision and released the peafowl to go an explore the farm.  They are territorial creatures, and I knew that after three years in this one location they might roam, but they would  very likely head back to the aviary to roost when evening approached.  Thankfully, that assumption proved to be right.

On Sunday as I released the five remaining peahens and two peacocks, all five geese rushed forward at the gate to assert their dominance.  One goose grabbed a peahen by the top-not and shook her.  That quick attack, however, was the only victory that the poor geese were destined to experience in the war with the peafowl.

One of the peacocks decided that he was tougher than the geese, and he proceeded to strut his stuff in open defiance of the goosetapo.  Before the day was over he had completely taken charge of the five geese and was marching them around in a frenzied, but tight, formation.   In fact, the angry peacock marched the five geese into the hen house two different times during the day, something that had to be humiliating to the geese who had up until then been the acknowledged masters of the yard.  By the next night the peacock was helping me put the geese up in the hen house in the evening before he headed over to the aviary to retire for the night.

And now, nearly a week later, the barnyard dominance is clearly established and all of the routines have been set.  The peafowl leave the aviary every morning when I let them out, and they work their way around the farm as a group dining on bugs and clover - with the exception of the one peacock who still acts as a drill sergeant for the geese.

Hup, two, three, four!  Hup, two, three, four! 

(To every thing there is a pecking order - turn, turn, turn!)