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A Thousand Splendid Suns

Published
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s000z
 on November 3, 2008
. 0 Comments

1000 Splendid SunsJust finished reading it. This book; it’s so unbelievably sad and beautiful and, whoa.  I mean, literally just finished with it.  Trying to drive West on Wilshire with my eyes watering, nose getting all sniffley.  In the midst of all this election, hype, who in the world is there to commiserate with over the tragic life of a fictional heroine who embodies the most extreme manifestations of loyalty and sacrifice.  I’ll say it before; am saying it again.  Khaled Hosseini is our Charles Dickens.  KHHe gives insights into parts of the world otherwise inaccessible through sophisticated mellowdramatic storylines, caricature.  Hope, grief, hardship and regret.  Still reeling from the experience of having just read this.  And in case you’re thinking this comparison between Dickens and Hosseini is a bit much, try this.  Compare the excecution scenes between A Thousand Splendid Suns and Tale of Two Cities.  How the protagonist comes to grips with their inevitable fate by elevating it.  Processing this in the middle of everything else; relating to many aspects of many of the characters and appreciating their inconsistencies and complexities reminds me that, despite the political zeitgeist, sucking me in like a tractor beam, my life isn’t really driven by blips and waves and bytes.  Fact of the matter is, I’m truly looking forward to the election being over so I can get back to myself again; losen the grip of this driving need to be so plugged in all the time.  Or at least, plug in a different way.  One that is more heightened and grounding, perhaps.  Still been enjoying the Palin haikus and all.  Though, now that I think about it, perhaps it’s just another way of dealing.  Okay, “dealing” is kinda strange verbiage.  I find myself engaging in what’s happening in politics on the intellectual and emotional intensity that I engage on, also can –if I’m not careful– get overwhelming and even exhausting.  Well crafted narrative fiction, by contrast, is back to the micro again.  It’s one connection going on —author to reader— no responsibility to fix or communicate or persuade or retract or supercsede anything on the outside.  Yet, the resonance of this author/reader intimacy is nevertheless, global in scope.  Perhaps fiction does not function on the multiplatform level that politicians must to target the widest demographic.  At the same time, it’s creating a corridor where there would otherwise be a wall.  In the case of A Thousand Splendid Suns, it provided me with a connection to the dreams, hopes, sorrows, losses and sacrifices of those lives beneath the burkas.

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Uncle Don

Published
by
s000z
 on November 1, 2008
. 0 Comments

I’ve decided to dedicate an entire blog post to my prolific Palin haiku post contributor; my uncle, Donald Bassman.  My Grandma, Lillian Bassman Dank, a Lithuanian immigrant, embraced the English language subsequent to her arrival in the United States, through her love of poetry.  As my mom and Don were growing up, Bubby would recite her favorite verses from Longfellow, Poe, Dickenson and Frost.  Although Don hasn’t, to my knowledge, written poetry before these haikus, he moves through the world in a way I perceive to be gentle and poetic in and of itself.  His proclaimed goal: 1,000 haikus by the time of the election.  Whether or not the goal is achieved, I’m guessing there’s a good chance he’ll end up w/ more Palin haikus under his belt than any other individual writing on the topic.  His contributions have integrated so fluidly into his daily routine, he has actually expressed some concern as to what will happen subsequent to the Election.  Being confident in Obama anticipated victory,  I’ve already promised Don new topics.  In addition to writing haikus, my uncle is a landscaper, organic farmer, and history buff.  He lives on the outskirts of Seattle.

Sarah Palin Haikus

Palintology

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Conglomerating all the Disparate Elements

Published
by
s000z
 on October 28, 2008
. 0 Comments

other ceOkay, so here’s what’s been going on.  Haven’t been blogging much cause —yikes— this WordPress server is such a mess, I just lost everything I wrote in its entirety.  Plus, I’m not able to upload photos for some reason.  Okay, basic premise is that I don’t really have time to write a blog post now anyway cause I’m finishing a screenplay.  And then I go ahead and blog anyway.  I blog about the Coriolis effect and how understanding how it works differently in the Northern/Southern hemispheres of Earth is like watching a production of a Shakespeare play you’ve already seen before during a completely diff phase of your life than the phase you were in when you saw it the previous time.  And although I don’t go into detail on the Coriolis effect, I offer the opportunity to link to an explanation of by clicking on the swirlie spinning earth at the bottom of this post.  I am actually finally managing to figure out HTML! Okay, well, actually it’s not really swirlie or spinning, since I haven’t figured out flash yet.  Amazing what a looped arrow can do for innuendo, tho.  Please forgive the wikipedia link, since they’re not exactly the most reliable entity.  On the other hand, it was the most comprehensive explanation I found and contains plethoras of links to other sites on the topic.  So I figure this way you can choose the links that best suits you, your learning style and attention span. Oh, and I’m not ready to post an explaination of the screenplay, yet.  I can, however, assure you it has nothing to do with the Coriolis effect!c effect

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How, Given the Opportunity, I Would Choose to Spend My Afternoon With Sarah Palin

Published
by
s000z
 on October 4, 2008
. 3 Comments

Relevant Posts:
Palintology
Sarah Palin Haikus
Haiku Originations
Censorship?

She says Dino’s and humans existed together, that intelligent design could be taught as an alternative to the Theory of Evolution, her father was a public school science teacher and no journalists are confronting her about it, straight on?  That’s, it!  I’m doing my own interview on the topic!  Only, in my interview, she’s not gonna have the chance to exonerate herself with slick and savvy sound bytes.  I’m taking Sarah straight to the evidence room!  Here’s goes:

Sarah Palin and I enter the American Museum of Natural History through the revolving doors on Central Park West and go to the dinosaur section.  I call her attention to the Late Jurassic Theopod fossil that existed 130 million years ago.  We then go to the hominid section so I can show her fossils proving that early hominids that existed 3.6 million years ago.  She tightens her lips.  “Haven’t you ever discussed this with your dad?” I ask her.  She takes offense, understandably.  Okay, well, she is the Republican Vice Presidential candidate and I wasn’t approaching her with the professionalism she deserves.  I remind myself that it is in my best interest to listen to what she has to say with curiosity and humility.  In fact, I’ll begin by asking if she’s willing to continue the interview.  “Are you willing to continue?”  She resumes by insisting that this is a lower 48 museum conspiracy—an effort to delude and subsequently demonize the common folk.  I ask her if she’d like to discuss said conspiracy with a couple of the resident scientists in the Division of Paleontology. “There’s an exhibit on me?” she beams!

“Well, not exactly,” I start to try and explain but she turning away, winking at a security guard and waving to an elementary school field trip.  What’s going on?  It’s like, she’s suddenly just outright ignoring me in the middle of our interview.  My focus shifts to the Governor’s body language.  Her feet and shoulders are no longer turned towards me but diagonally across the room.  The message she is communicating is that I will get no cooperation from her if I continue this trajectory.  Okay, now, for the default plan.  Drop the issue entirely. Shift topic.  Shift location.  We exit through the revolving doors onto Central Park West.

Palin and I board the downtown bound B train and head over to the New York Public Library.  Third floor to the Astor Reading room.  I pull out the “T” volume of the Oxford English Dictionary.  The Governor selects a long wooden table with two available seats.  I place the volume down on the table and pull the chain on the brass lamp.  I flip through page after page.  Passing, theologian, theology…ah, here it is, theory with a lower case “t.”  What else, ah another word with an entirely autonomous definition is Theory with a capital T.  “Shall I continue?”  SP is studying the gilded edges of the Rococo cumulus cloud ceiling.  Okay, it’s another body language queue telling me its time to let it go.  But then, I’m not ready to let it go.  Not yet, anyway. “Sarah,” I say, “There’s something I need you to look at and you don’t even have to say anything about it, okay?”  Her response: a poker face.  I place my index finger on the colloquial definition of theory in the OED and then explain this is an entirely different word than Theory, as defined scientifically.

“Of course, the two words frequently, and understandably, get confused, for obvious reasons.  The scientific Theory of Evolution is supported with data.  This is why, in this particular context, there are no alternative Theories.  Allowing Intelligent Design into the public school curriculum as an alternative theory when there is no scientific data to support it would be the equivalent of allowing an alternative to the Theory of Gravity to be taught without sufficient data,” I explain.

Palin pauses. Palin ponders. Palin purses her lips.  Something is happening.  What’s going in? Ohmygod, she’s sobbing cats and dogs now all over the OED.  A security guard comes to the rescue by removing the tear stained volume.  She’s crying harder now.  Right here, right in front of me, right in front of everyone else in the New York Public Library Astor Reading Room this afternoon.  And, ohmygod, the acoustics in this room are so unbelievably lousy, her wails and gasps for air between sobs just echo and echo and echo all over the place.  Even the pneumonic tubes transporting the reference requests are rattled from the resonance.  After the several dozen simultaneous shushes by the surrounding tables, I gently place my hand on Sarah’s elbow and suggest we go outside, get some air, freshen up or something.

On the marble steps between Patience and Fortitude, I am handing the governor a mirror so she can see for herself.  It’s not that bad, really.  In fact, her make-up really held up.  Just out of curiosity, is that a waterproof mascara you’re using?” Soon as the words are out of my mouth I catch myself and realize it’s time to tune into body language again.  Once again, I realize that Sarah Palin is utterly oblivious to everything going on with the exception of the cataclysmic tear gush she is now having to contend to.”  I want to be more helpful but I don’t have any Kleenex on me.  I offer Sarah her some Purell instead.  Perhaps it would maybe help to….well, maybe not.  Okay, she’s still crying.  Crap.  This is beyond attentiveness or inattentiveness to subtle communication dynamic and body language.  This is weird.  Not to mention, a situation that is completely out of my league.  I am standing between Patience and Fortitude on the marble steps of the New York Public Library with a Republican Vice Presidential candidate who wont stop crying.  Her face is wet, her clothes are wet, her fine leather go-go boots are so drenched they’re making squishie noises with every single step.  It’s a veritable flood of humility and her eyes just continue to gush!

I take her by the hand now, towards our unanticipated, yet necessary, final destination.  Downtown subway to the Eye and Ear Infirmary Emergency Room where she is whisked through triage, examined by an eye doctor who dilates her pupils with sting-ie yellow drops, pulls a Bobba Fet visor over his face, shines a light into the back of her soul and concludes a bacterial infection.  She is given a prescription for antibiotic eye drops, instructed to take them twice a day for a week and then return for a follow-up.  Within 24 hours she can expect to be feeling fine but it’s important that she not stop taking them just because the symptoms are gone away.  This is because they are antibiotics.  You can’t just quit them cold turkey.  These things have to be gradually phased out.  She assures the doc that she’ll take care to follow his instructions.  In fact, she’s went on antibiotics once for an infection caused by an ingrown toenail once.  They were tremendously beneficial.  “Okay,” I decide.  “Here’s my chance.”  My heart is racing for fast I feel it pulsing in my head.  “Are antibiotics are based on speculation, Doc?” I ask.  “Course not” he responds.  I am attempting to decipher the Governor’s undecipherable body language out of the corner of my eye. “Are the Antibiotics based on the Theory of Evolution, or on the ‘theory’ of Intelligent Design?” I ask the doc.  He is laughing; I am laughing and SP is gone.

I’m running down the stairs and past the security guard and out onto 14th street.  She is a block north of me, hailing an east bound cab.  By the time I reach the cab, she is already gone.  My one opportunity and I blew it!

Had I been more attentive to the subtextual messages conveyed through body language then perhaps I wouldn’t have alienated her to the degree that I did. Had I been able to continue to interview then perhaps she’s have grown to like me or at least trust me enough to open up about the fact that her science teacher dad never gently pulled her aside to explain that dinosaurs preceded hominids on the timeline and elucidated the difference btween theory and Theory so that she knew not to use this colloqual word in a scientific context.  Was some dysfunctional dynamic at work or just plain negligence on her dad’s end?  Does anyone, Republican or Democrat, have a theory on why the scientific context of the word “theory” gets repeatedly misappropriated?  And while we’re at it, doesn’t anyone have some Kleenex?


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Palintology

Published
by
s000z
 on September 29, 2008
. 0 Comments

Relevant Posts:

Short story about my afternoon w/ SP
Haiku Originations
Sarah Palin Haikus
Censorship?

As the Sarah Palin Haiku Collection continues to proliferate, I’ve noticed a serendipitous chronology forming.  The shock stage: exploitive sound-bytish slams of WTF.  Then action –my friend Sarah Sims calling for donations to Planned Parenthood in Palin’s name and now, finally, the more reflexive, meta-historical phase, ushered in my Uncle Don, the autodidactic history buff.

Uncle Don’s recent contribution was so outta my league that I had to request contextual clarification.  I am consequently providing the commentary as an autonomous blog post.  If my Wordpress skills prove technically ept enough, I might even fig out a way to link this to that.  In the case that the in wins over the ept—here’s the haiku again:

tipped canoe got tiled
old Zachary was filled more
and what about abe?

Okay.  So, this is the explanation I asked Don to send:

Dear Susanna,

The first 3 presidents to die in office were William Henry Harrison (”Tippecanoe”), Zachary Taylor, and Abraham Lincoln.

“Tippecanoe” gained his sobriquet fighting the great Indian Chief Tecumseh, and the generals famous campaign slogan was “Tippecanoe and Tyler too” -
Tyler being his VP candidate, and apparently one of our worst subsequent Presidents.

Harrison caught cold at his inauguration, refusing to wear a
coat in a cold rain, and died a month later.

Zachary Tyler, whom I admire, was I think a model for U. S. Grant, who
served under him in the Mexican War. He died after about 16 months in
office, purportedly after eating a bowl of cherries with milk. There
is unconfirmed speculation that he was poisoned. His VP, Fillmore, was
again a president of very low caliber.

Abe (Lincoln) is the great, enigmatic icon of American ideals. His VP,
Andrew Johnson, is difficult to assess due to the turbulence of the times.
He was nearly impeached and kept his office by only a margin of 1 vote.

Regards, your uncle Don

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“I have no idea what I am doing. But incompetence has never prevented me from plunging in with enthusiasm.”

Published
by
s000z
 on September 21, 2008
. 1 Comment

That is what Woody Allen said about directing his first opera, Gianni Schicchi.  The third of Puccini’s Il Trittico trilogy produced by LA Opera.  Just came back from seeing it and it was HILARIOUS!!!   My cousin, Jennifer –who came to see it with me– is not a huge opera fan but she was just totally loving it to pieces.  Imagine this— The Sopranos, Edward Gorey and all of Mulberry Street tossing the dead uncle’s corpse out on the fire escape while pilfering his furniture.  Oh, and the dead uncle impersonator (who actually has to become a –dying uncle impersonator– ends up rearranging all the financial designations–slanting in favor of himself, daughter and future son-in-law (in desperate need of duckets to secure their marriage vows) before giving the finger to the blind notary and getting stabbed to death by the pilfering matriarch.  And, yes, its easier to follow than I’m making it sound.  In fact, there’s actually a simplicity to it.  Even the opening credits –white words on black screen with soundtrack– were just so rickety retro and then add Santo Loquasto’s black and white photo family album come to life thing. There’s gotta be more of this.  I mean, having really iconic film directors come in to do this kind of this—-why isn’t it happening all the time???  Granted, not every director would want take on Dante’s Canto XIII (where this trickster character originates) but not every director out there is being offered the opportunity to push the outside edge of the envelope in this matter.  Which of course, also means kudos to Placido Domingo for having the balls to initiate this sorta interface. I’d like to see Spike Jonze do an opera or James Cameron or Spielberg or Jason Reitman, even.  Not all of them are even top of their form, yet.  They would, however, have a signature style to bring to the table.  for this sorta thing.  Because what made the experience so utterly splendid for me, was that it was an interpolation drenched in clarity.  Photos courtesy of LA Opera.

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Haiku Originations

Published
by
s000z
 on September 7, 2008
. 1 Comment

Relevant Posts:

Short story about my afternoon w/ SP
Sarah Palin Haikus
Palintology
Censorship?

Apologies to those of you who get this already.  I am not posting it to talk down to anyone or anything.  It’s just that several people have emailed me saying they love the idea of haiku but are not sure exactly how to write haiku or have to think about it for a while since they haven’t done this since high school or whatever.  Might well be the reason so many people have written me that they’re not sure how to go about it is that it’s something so fresh and utterly in the moment that don’t realize how simple it is so long as the basic premise is followed.  And if you get this already, you can go ahead and skip to the next blog post, I guess.  At any rate, Eastern Haiku is  a seventeen syllable poem.  Divided into syllabic lines of 5-7-5 and are mindful of the topic, the haiku will write itself. Matsuo Basho is the Eastern haiku master—he created the brief simple 17 syllable form. Kerouac is the one who innovated the contemporary Western Haiku, created a haiku that does not adhere to such tight syllabic structure but rather, takes the relevant and re-appropriates.  I find it liberating to embrace the opportunity to embrace the restrictions, thereby grounding the 17 syllable for against the formlessness of multiple combos times multiplex which is why I stick w/ the 5-7-5.  While I don’t consider any of my haikus my best writing, I do like the process of constructing it.  Light, accessible yet clean and elegant brain candy.  Okay, enough from me, tho.  Real reason I’m going on and on about this is to provide a link to this article about haiku that I found on The Huffington Post.  Check it out, if you have (a) the inclination (b) the time (c) in inability to control the distraction (d) the impulse to invite distraction in (e) none of the above.  There are some haiku blogs and essays out there that are kinda lame.  Others are not particularly lame, per se.  Just really obvious color by number-ish.  This essay, I like, tho.  Found it on Arianna Huffington’s Blog.  So I link.  Here tis—

Haiku: Do You Haiku by, John Lundberg

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Sarah Palin Haikus

Published
by
s000z
 on September 1, 2008
. 8 Comments

Links to Relevant Posts:

Palintology
Short Story About My Afternoon w/ SP
Haiku Originations
Censorship?

This is a forum
for connecting to the now
Sarah is our muse
Wanna write haiku?
Click “comments,” and submit reply
So easy!  Who knew?

Nancy and Richard’s Haiku 11/2
Palin is wailin’
We hope she goes a sailin’
Tuesday to Russia!
Haikus from the Editor:  In Response to David Sa****e’s Palin Haikus Posted 10/29

Well, I posted them.
Because I hate censorship.
But I will respond:

Savage!  Barbaric!
Harsh on “retard kid?”  That’s sick!
“Joe Sixpack,” that’s fine.

But, “hooker spy”
What the fuck is that about?
She isn’t either!

David Sa****e’s Haikus

Is it troubling Nascar Dad
and Joe Sixpack
Masterbate to you?

If I shotgunned her
and hung her hide on my wall
am I elitist?

From the snow they sent
a hooker spy with retard.
Eskimo power!

Don Bassman’s Haikus

Governor Palin Haiku #001
Against your allure,
in normal circumstances,
I have no defense.

Governor Palin Haiku #002
tipped canoe got tiled
old zachary was filled more
and what about abe?

Governor Palin Haiku #003
Metamorphasize
if the mantle of power
ever covers you

Governor Palin Haiku #004
Wonderful Haiku
the rough words conveniently
take a proper form

Governor Palin Haiku #005
echolailiaech
olailiaecholailia
What was that you said?

Governor Palin Haiku #006
one for me and you
one for my associates
one for the devil

Governor Palin Haiku #007
Nixons right-hand heirs -
environment pollution
taints what it touches

Governor Palin Haiku #008
Opportunity
wafts through our nations spirit
like a garden rose

Governor Palin Haiku #009a
just like an old hen
I lay one egg every day
Bok Bok cluck old hen

Governor Palin Haiku #009
come down Buck-a-roo
leaves of grass lay all around
many years have passed

Governor Palin Haiku #010
Marx stirred on the news
the continental divide
had split asunder

Governor Palin Haiku #011
The train to nowhere
sped past the station on time
her blue lights flashing

Governor Palin Haiku #012
the stag was wounded
blood trickled from his nostril
onto the white snow

Governor Palin Haiku #013
the dealer was sharp
the deck was stacked against me
the dice were loaded

Governor Palin Haiku #014
Can I have a loan?
Your personal profile sucks.
Sorry too risky.

Governor Palin Haiku #015
many leagues we traveled
our sleek ship followed the breeze
the wrong direction

Governor Palin Haiku #016
monopolist wire
connects through vital lifelines
back to the king’s house

Governor Palin Haiku #017
The magic forest
could not be found so I wept
in the gloomy shade

Governor Palin Haiku #018
John is my hero
Barack my lamp joe my sage
Sarah is my muse

Governor Palin Haiku #019
Foreign policy
without decency is like
Justice without teeth

Governor Palin Haiku #020
my fascination
exceeds my appalation
for reasons unknown

Governor Palin Haiku #021
What brilliant flower
will manufacture the seeds
of its destruction?

Governor Palin Haiku #022
The M4 chattered
Mother and daughter perished
in each others arms

Governor Palin Haiku #023
Wall Street gave 3 cheers
The defender was brought low
Let the good times roll

Governor Palin Haiku #024
The wild-eyed stallion
bucked and plunged maddened with fear
by the riders spurs

Governor Palin Haiku #025
Nobody could see
the force of chain reaction
would unleash a bomb

Governor Palin Haiku #026
my feeder is frail
the cows dine at the table
a circle of peace

Governor Palin Haiku #027
Gently the boat tossed
The Orca reconsidered
” - not now - bad PR”

Governor Palin Haiku #028

It’s Finality.
The whistle blows but no cheers
- must be a tie game.

Governor Palin Haiku #029
8 grey years gone by
its a stumble, not a fall
in the words of abe

Special Guest Haiku, by Jack Kerouac
Hitch hiked a thousand
miles and brought
You wine

Sam Teigen’s Haikus

Experience talk
Palin in comparison
straight talk gone crooked

Big state Alaska
Takes a lot of area,
Big resume gap

Straight talk impulses
Executive branch gamble
Hardly country first

Peter Orvetti’s Haikus
Go-go boots, big hair
Miss Congeniality
Darwin is a lie

She came from nowhere
Veep and grandma in a week
Moose burgers for all!

Debate coming soon
Biden my time till I see
Palin to compare

s000z’s Haikus

To Sarah:
Creationist freak!
Don’t take antibiotics
seriously, don’t!

Try to understand
“Theory of Evolution”
ain’t conjecture, babe.

Use the library
and I mean, sit there and read,
creationist freak!!

(I still love AK
Palin wont take that away
It’s such a big state)

To The New York Times:
Hate to defend her
but wardrobe budget attacks?
Biden has his ties!

Scott’s Haikus

Love that you had the same idea as my friends and I.   From our own site:

vapid vacuous
you are a neurotoxin
now no more talking

(my friend erin’s - genius)
pit bull with lipstick
there’s a word for lady dogs
if the lipstick fits…

lo’ pregnant daughter
why don’t you put your gun down
practice what you preach

Thomas Huynh’s Haikus

Fundamentalist
Fine in church but not in state
Founding Fathers roll

Why drill baby drill
When you have God’s plan: Iraq
Pray for that Palin

Support earmarks then
Somehow Palin forgot that
“Thanks but no thanks,” riiight

Written collaboratively by, Kelly Cooney, Damona Resnick-Hoffman and Susanna Speier

A deep thought about
Sarah Palin.  It is tough.
Post it on the blog.

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DNC Haiku/ Previous blog is morphing/ Into bitten blips

Published
by
s000z
 on August 30, 2008
. 6 Comments

Karen Goldner’s Haikus
Aug 30th, 2008 at 12:54 pm
I’ll try for you Suse
Writing Democratic haiku
What a convention

“Crowd thunders” indeed
To be part of history
Means more than I can express

Phil Fox Rose’s Haikus
Aug 31st, 2008 at 1:18 pm
News adds to discord
by showing it
Delegates embrace history

Irene Gravina’s Haikus
Aug 31st, 2008 at 6:35 pm
Dennis Kucinich/Knocked everyone’s socks off/cool speech I must say

Thomas Huynh’s Response
Irene and others who might be interested,
We highlighted Kucinich’s speech on our site: http://forum.sonshi.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=2779

Thomas Huynh’s Haikus
Aug 31st, 2008 at 7:49 pm
Obama who’s he
He is anti Bush McCain
Palin go back home

Michelle smart and strong
Behind good man good woman
Malia Sasha

Sep 1st, 2008 at 7:58 am
Blog entry before
A comment: What a day makes
Hang in there be good

Keep on doing your
thing despite what people say
many join later

s000z’s Haikus
Traffic at snail speed
The stadium with SWAT team
Try Lite Rail instead.

Oxymoron time:
Republican protesters?
Only CNN.

Mickey O kicks off
Delegate reaction shots
I see my cousin!

Obama says yes
We can yes we can yes WE
The crowd thunders back…

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The Democratic National Convention At Which I Never Quite Convened

Published
by
s000z
 on August 27, 2008
. Closed

The news kept showing protesters.  Seemingly masses of them.  All Republicans.  So we drove to the Colorado State Capitol to observe the phenomenon.  We being Mom, Karen (the family delegate) Cindy (Karen’s sig other ) and me.  And we drove and we drove.  Passing through the police lines as Karen waived her credentials.  Credentials, btw, are the ID badges they wear at the DNC.  And no, we didn’t actually see any real, live, Republican protestors.  Well, maybe a couple P.U.M.A.’s crossing the street (just learned the acronym for these Hillary purists stands for “Party Unity My Ass”) and then something like four absurdly courageous McCain supporters convening at a park bench in t-shirts, baseball caps and signs.  While we saw no Rebulican protestors, in the proper sense of the word, it counted for something, I guess.  Karen was able to get us into the new Denver Art Museum, which was not yet open to the public but available for convention goers.  And there were these laser projections of lucky numbers on mirrors and laser projected bubbles you could stomp on and totem poles and masks used in rite of passage rituals.  My personal fav was “By June, When the Light Begins to Breathe” by Keith Jacobshagen.  It reminded me of those summers that mom and dad and my brother Alex and I would drive cross the great plains of Nebraska flatness where the cornfields touched the sky to visit the family in Iowa and Omaha.  In fact, on the topic of Omaha, it was that night (or was it actually the day before that—think it was) Cindy and Mom and me watched Alexander Payne’s “Election” to get in the spirit of the thing (also, because Mom and Karen grew up in Omaha which meant the experience of watching them watch the film was something akin to observing a coupla kids do some kinda secret handshake–or a couplea prominent political figures do a fist bump) and then, of course, Michelle’s kick-off on TV.  Should I have postponed my return to a menial yet stable temporary auditing job in order to prolong whatever transitory state of financial stability the job promised to bring in deference to the far flung hope that the postponement could’ve optioned me a shot at scoring a ticket to Obama’s Thursday night speech?  Although Karen wasn’t able to score me tickets for it, perhaps, perhaps…  Should I postpone this return yet another day in order to jump on the opportunity to watch history being made???  Mom and I talked it over and concluded ‘nay.’   I didn’t see a reason to postpone my return to LA cause of the DNC, given that I needed the work and all.  I’d requested and was granted two days off.  That was enough.  Why should I ask for more?  Mom, in compliance with and in support of my choice to reinforce the work ethic, woke me at 3:30 a.m., actually cooked me pancakes with peaches and real maple syrup so I could take a crack-of-dawn jet back to LA on a full stomach.  Subseuqenly, reconvene my finite temp gig (the internal audit, btw, is the dayjob I do when the impovrished novelty of sustaining myself through sporadic acting and writing gigs, starts to wear thin.) Would that I had known just how very finite the gig would actually be!!!  Alas, I promptly learned that the gig was over due to the fact I’d been working too damn fast!!  Okay, so I’d waived the option to fight for the opportunity to possible get a ticket to see Obama and then flown back to LA-LA only to learn that the project was fin and I’m left w/ nothing but a the bitter pill that had I known this in advance, then I could’ve extended my stay in Denver.  Hung in for the duration of the convention, caught site of another Republican protestor or two, spent more time w/ family and been part of history.  I was alone Thursday night, listening to Obama’s speech on the radio (I don’t have a TV) and it was then it clicked into place.  Obama is explaining how his mom would get him up at 4:30 a.m. everyday to do his homework.  Of course he hated it.  It’s why he is who he is today, though.  That was his work ethic.  The thing with Obama —what I hear on the radio as well as from friends— is that people see themselves in him.  And it was that aspect, that really humbling notion that you gotta colonize the witching hours in order to do what it is you need to do, that enabled me to see myself in him.  And no, that night I wasn’t there with the masses who’d arrived at the stadium six hours early for this once in a lifetime expereience or left afterwards, infused with that energy that people later described as other worldly.  I was, however, following an age old work ethic.  And investement in something larger than myself.  And investment that, in the particular circumstance I am describing, fell through due to circumstances beyond my control.  Another practice, though, in maintaining professional integrity.  Like in the old Sun Tzu sense, you lose with honor because it maintains your spirits so that you can recover, return to battle again and be victorious.  So many people said this happened for a reason.  Given how broke I am, how bummed out I am about missing the end of the convention (not to mention the loss of several additional days that would have otherwise been an oh-so-rare vacation for me) I do hope that this context falls into place.

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