Category: Columns

An Update: February 26th of this year, I originally wrote an article about the number of helicopters flying over Ocean Beach in the wee small hours of the morning. As an insomniac I find this very distressing. I accept that I will go to sleep after 11:30pm when Lindbergh closes their takeoff routine, and, if lucky, will have the drone of the motor wake me at 6:30am. That is if I am able to sleep in the “between” hours.

“Out there in San Diego
Where the Western Breakers Beat
They’re Jailing Men and Women
For Speaking on the Street”

2012 will mark the 100 year anniversary of the San Diego Free Speech Fight when workers from the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) along with allies from the rest of labor and the community at large defied a city ordinance designed to prevent them from standing on a soapbox at the corner of 5^th and E in downtown San Diego and speaking. As I explain in Under the Perfect Sun, street speaking was part of a larger strategy for the IWW:

[W]hen the IWW came to San Diego, they sought to turn “bums” into men by transforming the attitude of the town’s small disposable labor force from individual shame and defeatism to solidarity and class anger. Their method was street speaking…

There’s a proposal floating around the country called a “Contract for the American Dream.”

It’s an ages old dream, simple in its scheme, a dream where everyone has a place of employment (JOBS, NOT CUTS!), roofs over our heads on homes we own and secure futures for ourselves and our children so they can pass the good fortunes on.

The dream eases me into a “What if?” kind of modality. Like what if tomorrow Obama woke up truly realizing that the Good Old USA is in a kind of “do or die” situation. Either he, and Congress, does something or we, in spirit, without a doubt, will surely die.

Saudi Arabia is a young country, being a little bit less than eighty years old. The ruling family (tribe – tribal affiliations are still reflected in the family names of Saudis), in the person of the first king, Abdulaziz Al-Saud, consolidated its power only in 1932. Oil was discovered soon after that and the accumulation of wealth which continues until today began, but as recently as 1960 most of Saudis were desert nomads. That heritage remains part of the identity of many of my students. They harken back to those days and proudly call themselves Bedouins, much as young men who grow up in the western states of America sometimes consider themselves to be cowboys. The grandparents of many of my students actually lived that life.

“Hey, honey! Want to go out to dinner tonight?” Put on your prettiest clothes; have your hair done, have a manicure and pedicure, and I’ll pick you up about 7:00pm.”

Don’t like that scenario? How about this one:

“Ah honey, I wanted to take you and the kids out to dinner at that new hot spot in town, but the McDonald’s is no longer there so we would have to buy the kids a full, expensive meal.”

“Pray for your Governor,” exhorts the Lord of Hosts, “for I desire to use him and raise him up. Pray for his protection and for those around him, for all that concerns him in this critical hour, for he is Mine…. He is a key player in the shift that must take place, indeed that has already begun issuing forth from My innermost chambers.” Tom Schlueter, A Statewide Call to Prayer Day Thirty-Four, Texas Apostolic Prayer Network

“Next time I tell you someone from Texas should not be president of the United States, please pay attention.” Molly Ivins

Today, on our daily walk around the “hood”, Buddy and I had an experience that is repeating itself daily. On our walk on Sunset Cliffs, from Adair south to Osprey, we were met by the following:

7 skate boarders – that were not about to relinquish the “right of way” and would just as soon run us than move over, …

For the past several months, I have listened to a commercial advertising “San Diego Home Cooking Restaurant.” A lovely woman, with a decidedly East European accent has touted the home cooking of the four restaurants in the chain. Since all of those restaurants were far from my home in Ocean Beach, I have never tried them, even though the pictures of the meals served have been enticing. (Stephanie told us the owner was from Serbia.)

Oh, did I ever fall in love with this morning. It was so nice and sunny, so soothing to my soul and bones. And I was still all a swoon when this lovely beginning of the day segued into the afternoon.

At some point on such a day I knew I would want to write, something, anything, because writing to me, is a form of play and this was a day in which to play. I, however, had no particular topics to approach in mind so I went to a website of writing prompts and blindly chose one that asked me to go through a dusty photo album which was no problem because my soul mate, a photographer del mundo, bequeathed me enough dusty albums to ignite a Haboob like the ones that smothered Phoenix…

Remember all the flack about the kids toilet-papering trees?

Remember the argument about what it was doing to the environment?

I even remember the lady that wrote back and said that she saw nothing wrong with it; in fact, she even drove her child to the “scene” and stayed in the car while the dastardly deed was being done.

Author’s note 7/30/10: The link in the article below no longer goes to the original U-T article upon which I based this post (see the reposted article at Tenants Together). I’ll let you all decide whether the new article is an “update” or a “correction,” because in many ways it is a whole different animal.

While the sturm und drang of the debt ceiling debate drowns out the howls of distress of the American public going down with the ship, we are being treated to an equally diversionary coverage of the significant women’s issue of the day. Did someone say douche? I didn’t say douche but someone said douche.