It might surprise you, dear readers, to know that I rarely find joy in anything. Disappointment builds character and I am brimming with character. I am so used to hitting snags and being turned down and cold cocked with "NO" that some days I don't even try. I just wait for sleep and dread waking up. Today is not one of those days, my friends!
When I went home to Arkansas in September, one of my goals was to get my mother's copy of Christmas with the Mexicali Brass and take it back to Canada to do a phono to cd burn. Sure, it was scratchy and skippy and possibly unplayable...but I had to have that record. So, I ask mom and she points to the album sorter. You know the kind. Looks like it's made of clothes hanger wire and you slip a single album in each slot...So I furiously slide each album up looking for the Mexicali Brass and when I find it I squeel! Then I mutter, "sonofabitch." All album cover, no album. Mom says it's in there somewhere. Yeah, but where?
Today I was feeling kind of festive - getting out the wreath and stockings and all. I started thinking about that Mexicali Brass record and how much I would like to listen to it while I decorate or make cookies...just like when I was little. My mom would hit the egg nog and before too long we were dancing in the kitchen to mariachi-fied Christmas songs. Long story short - itunes has the whole album and it is clean and remastered and now it IS MINE!!! I think I felt a little joy today. When you are used to hitting snags and being turned down and cold cocked with "NO" as much as I am - a little "yes!" goes a long way.
I want to believe in doctors, but my past experience makes it very hard to trust anything any of them have to say.
Yesterday I found myself in the walk in clinic up the street to get a refill on some meds. While I was in there I mentioned to the doctor that I had a severe pain running down my legs after walking a few blocks. I stood up, pulled up the leg of my jeans and ran my finger down the outer side of my leg - between the knee and ankle. I specified that the pain is from here (about an inch below by knee cap) to here (just about my ankle bone). I told her that it starts out as a slight burn, but if I continue to walk the burn becomes quite intense and I tend to lose the feeling in my feet. If I rest, the pain subsides (after about 5 minutes) but resumes when I start walking again. I also told her that it was quite the problem since I walk in Vancouver, I do not drive. Most stores I frequent are within walking distance. The pain is excrutiating and it keeps me from being as mobile as I would like.
I told her I bought some shoe inserts and her response was, "and they work?"
If they worked I wouldn't be telling you about the pain, now would I?
I said that it doesn't matter what shoes I wear but I do not have this pain when I ride my stationary bike...only walking.
I also told her that I didn't notice it so much in the past, but that might be because in Arkansas I didn't do as much long distance walking, like I do in Vancouver or when we are on vacation and out sightseeing.
So after telling her all of that here is what she said.
"You have a pinched nerve in your spine. You need X-rays."
I said, "Really, you think that's what it is?"
She says, "Well, the other thing it could be is PAD - but you don't want that. People with diabeties and other chronic illnesses have that. You aren't there."
"Ok. The pain doesn't run up my hip or thigh...just my lower leg."
"How long have you had this problem? Did you have it in the States too?"
"Yes, but it was not as noticiable because it only happens when I am in a situation where I find myself walking a lot."
I was pretty sure I had made this point already but I found myself going through it again, in a more illustrative way. "You see, in Arkansas I was a driver. I didn't walk to the store or anywhere to get to places. Walking the Target parking lot then strolling the aisles isn't the same kind of walking that I do now. I had a very bad episode in Philidelphia several years ago while sightseeing and doing a lot of walking, but I chalked that up to legs not used to walking great distances. I thought it was weak muscles...but my legs should be used to walking by now. I shouldn't hurt this bad. My feet shouldn't go numb after walking 2 blocks."
"So, here is what I want you to do - change your shoes. Don't wear the shoes you are wearing."
I stopped her. I thought I had already gone over this.
"It doesn't matter what shoes I wear. I have Converse sneakers, leather boots, track shoes, Reeboks, slip ons...it doesn't matter what shoe I have on - and I don't wear heels so that is not an issue either."
Didn't I just show you the brand new arch support I put in the shoe???
"Well, I don't think it's anything too serious."
"But I can't walk."
She took a breath. "Hmmm, well it looks like you haven't had a physical in a while...we should schedule you for a complete physical."
Nice way to change the subject.
So a few minutes later I found myself getting 8 spinal Xrays. SIX maybe but...I am not sure why I had to get EIGHT GOD DAMNED X-RAYS. Seems excessive.
I need to find another doctor.
Marc talks about prison food and the hypocrisy of alcoholic politicians...
A week or so ago I saw a blurb from one of my long time friends (Brad) on facebook about a mutual acquaintance. To cut to the chase, Charles Zook needs a dog. Not just any dog, but a service dog.
When I knew Charles in the way way back, he wasn't in a chair. I didn't know Charles had been in an accident and when I saw him after a large time gap I reacted in what I can only describe as a "am I dreaming this?" moment. I literally had to search my memory and reassure myself this chair was new and then I tried not to get emotional...so my reaction was pretty stupid. Acting casual when you are in shock and disbelief is rarely pulled off with grace. Sorry, Zook.
So, here is what I am doing for Charles.
From the beginning of October to the end of December any doggie shirt I sell on Zazzle will generate royalties that I will set aside for Rufus and Charles. I sold one yesterday, so we are off to a start.
These dogs are expensive - so let's help Rufus help Charles! I mean look at these two! They look great together.
If you have an extra 5 bucks or two just laying around in your change jar you could help too..
Service Dog Project
7604 Ohio #6 - Little Rock, Ar 72227
Make checks payable to the Sloan-Swindle Families Foundation
with Charles and Rufus in the memo
For additional information call: Georgann (501) 590 2042
Birthers, Tea Baggers and all you other loons...I can not believe so many people are willing to make fools of themselves in public and for what? Were you promised a klondike bar or something?
What else are you willing to do in order to please your corporate masters? Shout down people, burn effigies, bully and harass, be ignorant for the sake of being ignorant? Makes me wonder what you good citizens are like at home. Do you react irrationally on a regular basis? Are you really this pig headed or are you feigning ignorance just to be contrary? Children will do that, you know.
Perhaps the reason why those puppet masters of yours want you to disrupt and step on the rights of others is because they don't want you actually hearing anything that might be considered detrimental to their fiscal health. Hell, most of you don't even know the basics like where your Medicare/Medicaid comes from! I know it's hard to admit when you are wrong, but you don't have to be wrong and stupid. Wrong and stupid is no way to live your life...
Remember how disappointed Ralphie was when he got his Little Orphan Annie decoder ring only to find out it was nothing more than a marketing tool for Ovaltine? Are you seeing similarities yet? No?
I used to write poetry - well, what I called poetry - all the time.
Then I got into college and took writing courses and realized that I pretty much sucked at poetry. My prose were just slightly better and my scripts were a little above the prose - but all in all I was not going to make a living with words.
I started this poem in the mid 80's. My father had just been diagnosed with lung cancer and death was sort of hanging around the house. He recovered fully after a chunk of lung was removed. The lung cancer never came back, although later in life he dealt with prostate cancer. But that didn't kill him either.
The original poem was a lament about how I didn't really know my father - even though he was right there in the house and we passed each other several times a day. Who was this guy and If he should die on that operating table, what would we have left to represent him? An old car, a chipped ashtray, a couple of Sheafer's six packs in the shed and a garden that neither my mother or myself gave a care about until the squash was ripe...
It has always been hard for me to imagine my father as a little boy, running and playing and just going wild. His upbringing was harsh, I'm not sure how much time he had for play. Having said that, my father could be one childish SOB. Arguing with him was like arguing with an 8 year old.
The final draft of this poem has pretty much nothing to do with my father. It's a case of a piece of art starting out one way and ending up something completely different. As faulty as this poem may be from a professional's view - it is the best poem I have ever written. For me, this is as good as it gets, folks.
The Boys I Watch
written in mid 80’s - finished 1997
edited 4/29/98
The boys I watch are truly boys
Shirtless
Shoeless
Over stone beaded driveways
And August scorched grass ways
Running
Tangling up the willow tree branches
Linking up fists
Kicking up dust
With black bottomed feet.
Thirty four shades of summer have passed me
Always at odds with the seasonal shift
Watching the boys I feel so archaic
Presence of mind has replaced the gift
of scurry and scramble without an intention
without the worry of getting things done
But I have done nothing to balance this greatness
in my thirty four years of snowfall and sun.
Feeling the panic brought on by September
Sensing the newness the air of death brings
It seems even now the memory aches me
Concerns of a lunch box and a desk for my things
Beyond this I moved
importance accomplished
Yet I scurry and scramble as if running wild
Having done nothing to balance this greatness
or surpass the glory of being a child.
The boys have gone savage in the trees
Capturing twilight in dawn tinted lungs
Shrieking
Shouting
Frantic for daylight
As if eating the dusk might make them become
Something
Less than human
Before
Voices call from behind rusty screen doors
And beckon
Come in from the night.
HERE IS WHAT YOU CAN DO TO HELP!
Write a letter asking the Washington State judge to let Marc Emery return to Canada without any imprisonment. Send your polite, passionate letters to:
Honorable Ricardo S. Martinez
U.S. Courthouse
700 Stewart Street
Seattle, WA
98101
Here are some facts to help you write your letter:
• Marc Emery is a Canadian citizen who never went to the USA as a seed seller.
• Marc Emery operated his seed business in Canada at all times, with no American branches or employees.
• Marc Emery declared his income from marijuana seed sales on his income tax, and paid over $580,000 to the Federal and Provincial governments from 1999 to 2005.
• Marc Emery is the leader of the British Columbia Marijuana Party, a registered political party that has regularly participated in elections.
• Marc Emery has never been arrested or convicted of manufacturing or distributing marijuana in Canada, as he only sold seeds.
• Marc Emery gave away all of the profits from his seed business to drug law reform lobbyists, political parties, global protests and rallies, court litigation, medical marijuana initiatives, drug rehabilitation clinics, and other legitimate legal activities and organizations.
• Marc Emery helped found the United States Marijuana Party, state-level political parties, and international political parties in countries such as Israel and New Zealand.
• Marc Emery has been known as a book seller and activist in Canada for 30 years, fighting against censorship laws and other social issues long before he became a drug law reform activist.
• Marc Emery has been a media figure for 20 years with regards to marijuana and drug law reform. He is very well-known to Canadian, American and international news media organizations.
• Marc Emery operated his business in full transparency and honesty since its inception in 1994, even sending his marijuana seed catalogue inside his magazine "Cannabis Culture" to each Member of Parliament in Canada every two months for years.
• The US Drug Enforcement Administration admitted in a press release from Administrator Karen Tandy that his July 29th, 2005 arrest was based on drug legalization efforts -- a copy of the document can be viewed at http://www.cannabisculture.com/articles/4685.html --
"Today's DEA arrest of Marc Scott Emery, publisher of Cannabis Culture Magazine, and the founder of a marijuana legalization group -- is a signficant blow not only to the marijuana trafficking trade in the U.S. and Canada, but also to the marijuana legalization movement. His marijuana trade and propagandist marijuana magazine have generated nearly $5 million a year in profits that bolstered his trafficking efforts, but those have gone up in smoke today. Emery and his organization had been designated as one of the Attorney General's most wanted international drug trafficking organizational targets -- one of only 46 in the world and the only one from Canada. Hundreds of thousands of dollars of Emery's illicit profits are known to have been channeled to marijuana legalization groups active in the United States and Canda. Drug legalization lobbyists now have one less pot of money to rely on."
PLEASE SEND A LETTER IN THE MAIL!
If enough pieces of mail arrive at the courthouse, the judge will realize that many people are going to be upset if Marc Emery is sentenced to prison time, and he may be persuaded to give a lighter sentence -- perhaps even the same as Marc's two coaccused Greg Williams and Michelle Rainey, who are starting two years of probation in Canada as their punishment for the victimless crime of selling marijuana seeds in Canada!
For more information that can help you create your letter to the judge, read and use the following:
Who is Marc Emery?
Marc Emery is a Canadian businessman and political activist who owns and operates "Cannabis Culture Magazine", "Pot-TV", the "BC Marijuana Party", and "Marc Emery's Cannabis Culture Headquarters" (previously "BC Marijuana Party Bookstore" and "Hemp BC" before that). Marc also ran "Emery Direct Seeds" in a store in downtown Vancouver BC, and through mail-order, for over ten years, with the goal to fund anti-prohibition and pro-marijuana activists and organizations across North America and the world. (Numerous other seed-selling businesses operate in North America, some even on the same block as Marc Emery's businesses today.)
Marc paid provincial and federal taxes on his income, had no business outlets in the USA, and never went to the USA to conduct seed transactions. Everything was done openly and transparently, because Marc has always been honest and vocal. He's a media magnet and always explained how and why he did everything. He spent the proceeds from all sales on ending the drug war: he financed numerous ballot initiatives, election campaigns, court challenges, medical user legal fees, conferences, events and more in Canada, the USA, and all over the world. That's what his mission was, and he even ran in provincial and municipal elections five times as a seed seller, gaining many votes and endless media coverage.
Marc Emery had two employees that worked for his seed business: Michelle Rainey, and Greg Williams. Together they were called "The BC3" in earlier "No Extradition" efforts. They, along with Marc, are Canadian citizens who were heavily involved in Canadian and American anti-prohibition activism for over ten years, though they remained in Canada at all times.
The US Justice Department wanted to have the BC3 extradited to the USA to be charged with conspiracy to produce marijuana, conspiracy to traffic marijuana, and conspiracy to launder the proceeds of crime. ("Marc Emery Direct Seeds" was a marijuana seed business; the accused never sold any marijuana. The DEA even went undercover and tried to buy ten pounds of pot from Marc Emery, but he gave them a lecture about how he sold seeds, not pot, and told the female undercover agent she was ignorant to ask him to sell marijuana, because he's never done it before and assumes he's always monitored by law enforcement.) Marc Emery still faces extradition the USA.
Because Marc Emery was so successful in fighting against the US-led War on Drugs, the powers in America decided to shut him up. The United States Justice Department and DEA had Canadian police help execute a raid and arrests for extradition of three political activists -- Marc Emery, Michelle Rainey, and Greg Williams -- to face 10 years up to life in US prison.
Did You Know?
- In Canada, there are two precedents for selling marijuana seeds:
1) In the year case R. v. Hunter in the year 2000, the BC Court of Appeals found that a $200 fine, not jail time, is the appropriate punishment for selling seeds. Read that decision here.
2) On March 7th, 2008, the BC Appeals Court released a decision that the punishment for selling cannabis seeds should not be more severe than one month in prison and one year of probation, the punishment handed to a marijuana seed retailer in BC who was selling to Americans. Read that story here.
- Marc Emery, Michelle Rainey and Greg Williams never went to the United States. The seed business, "Marc Emery Direct Marijuana Seeds", was Canadian-based and run by Marc Emery. There were no US-based employees, and only regular mail was ever sent across the border from Vancouver, BC to Americans who made orders online or through the mail.
- According to a 2005 survey done by the Strategic Counsel & Angus Reid Polling, 58% of Canadians oppose extradition in this case. In the years since, public opposition to extradition has only grown, with national newspaper editorials, local news columnists, and even Members of Canada's Parliament all urging the Justice Minister to refuse extradition in this case.
- Marc Emery paid Income Tax to Revenue Canada and Revenue BC on all of his income generated from his seed business. He paid more than $500,000 in taxes between 1999 to 2005, and put his occupation on the income tax declarations as "marijuana seed vendor".
- Marc Emery's magazine "Cannabis Culture" was sent to every Member of Parliament for over 12 years. Every issue of Cannabis Culture up to #57 (the issue printed on the very same day as the raid, July 29th, 2005) included the entire seed catalogue in it, so Parliament knew about the business.
- Health Canada, when it first began licensing medical marijuana users, recommended to Members of Parliament and licensed users that new cannabis growers should purchase seeds online from Canadian seed sellers such as Marc Emery Direct. Svend Robinson, the New Democratic Party Health Critic in Canadian Parliament, will testify to that fact.
- Marc Emery brought a capitalist approach to the marijuana legalization movement by starting "radical retail" outlets such as Hemp BC, and got politically involved by helping organize the Canadian Marijuana Party and creating the BC Marijuana Party, the latter which he still leads today.
- Marc Emery created his seed business with the purpose of using the profits to fund the cannabis movement worldwide. Through the sale of cannabis seeds, Marc was able to finance numerous drug law reform groups and events around the world, mostly in Canada and the United States. He funded global rally/march promotion, American and Canadian ballot initiatives, election campaigns, lobbying groups, conferences, drug rehab clinics, class action lawsuits, protests, patient bills and bail fees, and more. In total, over $4,000,000 was contributed to various activities and organizations.
If you know me, you know that I am somewhat of a misanthrope. People do things that irritate me, and I have found it is better to seclude myself than run the risk of getting punched in the nose for conveying my irritation in the only way I know how: Sarcasm.
You have to love technology, though...because now I can crab off on all sorts of things from the security of my computer room. With pictures!
Welcome to the first, and probably not last, edition of
THINGS THAT IRRITATE ME ABOUT PEOPLE
For my first installment I would like to discuss dogs.
I am not a dog person, I like cats. Just because I really like cats and I am so-so on dogs, doesn't mean I approve of mistreating them or treating them like an accessory.
A few weeks ago we had a Greek Fest in the neighbourhood. This year the Greek Fest was really packed, probably the most crowded I have seen in the last 4 years. Lots of people had dogs with them and if I hadn't of been expecting to use my hands to hold a Gyro I would have petted as many as I could. You know, the Greek Fest is all about the food no matter how many booths on Hellenic Culture and History they have set up.
I don't mind it when people bring well behaved animals to events of this nature as long as the dogs aren't in the way or in danger of getting crushed under the feet of dancing Greeks. I would rather see people bring pets with them than a kid in stroller the size of a Hummer...but that's another rant entirely.
Sometimes at these events people dress up the dog to fit the event, which is always good for a laugh especially if it is a Pride Parade.
On the way home we came across this:
This poor pup was tied so close to this tree he could barely move. I have no idea where his owner was or how long the dog was supposed to stand there like this, and honestly I don't care. I don't care if the owner was sitting at the bar on the other side of the side walk or at the curb just off camera and to the right. I think this picture does all the talking and I don't need to go on and on about it.
This kind of thing just irritates me about people.
Tonight I was looking for a tape. A specific cassette tape from a band called Metro Waste. Metro Waste was an early, southern region punk band. I told a friend that I had a Metro Waste demo. I knew it was somewhere in the house and I told him if I found it and it was in decent condition - I would make him a copy. Nostalgia!
I didn't find that tape, though. What I found was an empty tape case with a business card for Metro Waste tucked inside. I am pretty sure that tape is around here somewhere...I will keep looking.
Another tape I found was an old and dusty Sony. One side was printed with B-52's and the other side with Talking Heads. I was about to toss this in the waste bin when something inside of me said, 'listen to it first! Don't Worry might be on that tape!'
So I did.
The side that was labeled B-52's was NOT the B-52's. It took me a few seconds to place the two chirping, somewhat southern accented, female voices - it was Jenifer and myself laughing and hooting about something going on in a parking lot. I rewound the tape and started it from the beginning and soon realized it was a documentation of a time Jenifer and I had that involved going to a Tav Falco show at the SOB, going to the flea market at Barton Coliseum, stopping by Jef Duncan's house and going to the coin laundry. The whole tape was for the benefit of our friend Susan, who we missed enough to pretend that the tape player was actually her. I guess it was our intention to include Susan in our good times one way or the other. I do not remember making this tape and I have no idea if we ever made a copy and actually sent it to Susan.
The making of this tape may be blurry but I very much remember bleaching my hair blonde - not even bothering to take in to account that I was in a play that was opening soon. I lament to 'Susan the tape recorder' that "I wanted to be blonde but my hair had a different plan entirely". The dye job was indeed horrible, it was more a new born yellow chick color than a specific blonde. I vaguely remember going to hear Tav Falco and visiting the flea market. I talk about seeing an old boyfriend at the TF show and Jenifer and I discuss what we would have liked to have done with the idiot slam dancers who always seemed to screw up the best dance songs. We are laughing and joking and hearing it made me laugh out loud because, hell, we are funny as shit. We sound like we only know how to have a good time.
I sat on the edge of the bed and listened. I played some guitar for Susan then muttered something about getting a job. "Hey, Susan! It is about 36 degrees outside. Every one is going to hear Jubilee Dive, but I think I am going to stay home because the weather looks bad. It is Januarrrrryyyyy 27th...1987".
1987...When the only thing I knew was how to have a good time.
This has to be the coolest idea I have seen in a long time. I wish I was this clever...
