Just what the %$#@! is community anyway?

Yep, another night of sleep lost pondering imponderables!

So yesterday I was engaged in a conversation with one of our city council members and a Lion's Club president.  Our conversation eventually came around to what Ferndale should be doing to improve our "downtown" area.  Which if you haven't been to Ferndale, WA consists of an area on both sides of Main Street roughly 4-5 blocks long.   The City of Ferndale may have a different definition but that is what I believe most Ferndalian's/Ferndaler's  would mean when they refer to downtown.

As we spoke, the LC Pres, revealed that she'd grown up in a small town in the Northeast and knew what a small town should look like.  "The churches are white and look a certain way" kinda stuck in my head.   The city council person noted that they received lots of comments about how ugly downtown was.  As we were standing and talking in the parking lot at the southeast corner of Main and 1st, I looked down the street and realized that I had no real opinion about the downtown. 

I've lived in Ferndale for almost 6 years now.  Downtown is really just bunch of buildings I drive past.  In the entire time I've lived here, I've been in less than half the buildings in the downtown area and most of those only a few times and only 3 or 4 more than a few times.  Simply put unless I am getting something to eat, I rarely have reason to go downtown. 

In the summer they hang flower baskets from the downtown lamp posts and around Christmas they put up some lighted snowflakes and such on them.  On flag days, the Kiwanis, line Main Street with American Flags.  The Ferndale Chamber of Commerce organizes an annual Street Festival in the middle of downtown.  Beyond that I can't think of much that happens downtown of any real note.

Anyway this whole conversation got me to thinking about just what is community and what does it really mean to me, because of late I've been explaining a lot of what I do as wanting to give back to my community. 

Historically, I grew up in suburbia.  The Piggly Wiggly was where we did most of our grocery shopping as I remember, then they put in a strip mall of sorts a few blocks away from home.  Mostly, we drove places to buy what we needed.  We didn't hang out and socialize when we shopped.

I lived most of my early years in homes my father built.  Our lives pretty much revolved around our house.  My dad's family was in and around West Virginia.  My extended family consisted mostly of my Mom's Mom, her brothers and their families.   I saw them on holiday's but not much beyond that. 

Our neighbors were generally friendly and helpful to each other but there again not really a lot of contact.  Family friends were spread all over the county so even the best of them were only seen infrequently.  It was kind of a treat to go visiting.

We weren't a religious family and I personally left the church at around age 12 when I discovered that their god and my god were not the same.

I guess what I am getting to here is that community wasn't really an experience for me as much as it is an idea that I have come to respect.  The thing is I am basically an introvert, meaning most of my attention and energy is directed to or derived from my inner life.  I often find myself not attending to what is going on beyond my own mind.   This doesn't mean that I don't need or care about others.  Though it does explain why I am sometimes clueless about them.

It is clear to me that community is something that I have been learning about for most of my life and yet am still struggling to understand and to know.  Sharing time in sweat lodges did a lot to bring me around to a better understanding or at least a better recognition of the importance of community. 

Community really has little to do with places or things.  It is all about relationships/interdependence.   I really don't care what the downtown looks like because it is not what makes a community viable to my mind.  What community means to me is how we regard each other, how we care for and treat each other.  I prefer a community where I feel safe and can openly be/share myself.  The community I want not only lets me be the best me I can be, it wants to help me do that!  And it wants that for every member of the community!

So the question remains how can we make Ferndale a better community?  What do you mean when you think of community?  What are you really looking for?  I for one would really like to hear what you have to say?

Why vote for Stacy Miller?

Why should you vote for Stacy Miller for Ferndale City Council? First a few facts:

• “About 13.3% of families and 16.8% of the (Ferndale) population were below the poverty line, including 24.2% of those under age 18 and 7.3% of those age 65 or over.” (Wikipedia)
• The web site NWGangs.com lists 18 gangs that it claims have a presence in Whatcom County. Ferndale is one of the cities where some of these gangs are said to be present.
• My discovery of a syringe on my own property tells me that there is drug abuse going on in my neighborhood.

These are just a few facts that indicate Ferndale is not the quaint, idyllic little community of yesteryear, if it was ever that. My travels in and about Ferndale reveal more than a few people walking around who appear afflicted with mental illness and/or are homeless. The late night/early morning inebriated tirades and domestic conflicts punching through my sleep fogged mind on hot summer nights from across the street further reinforce the knowledge that Ferndale is just another typical small American city.

The thing is I want Ferndale to be better than typical. Now we can stick our collective heads in the sand and pretend that these social issues will go away if we ignore them. They won’t.

Ferndale has a pretty active and motivated business community. In fact, the majority of our city council members seem to be heavily pro-business. Not a bad thing in and of itself. They seem to be pro public safety as well, judging by our new police station. While the water issues have ticked off a fair number of city residents, I for one believe that the council’s original intent was to save us all money. The hard water surprised them as much as anyone.

What I don’t see on the council though is someone whose primary interest is looking at the social issues confronting Ferndale. We’ve got people looking out for business, for public safety, and lord knows there are more than a couple fiscal conservatives there making sure that we get our money’s worth.

This is where I think Stacy Miller comes in. Stacy has a long history of service in  business, government, and the non-profit world. She is intimately aware of the costs and benefits of confronting and not confronting social issues. She is a realist. She knows that Ferndale doesn’t have the fiscal resources to support a social service bureaucracy. She also recognizes that ignoring these social issues will not make them go away.

So, what can Stacy do for us? She can seek ways for the city to work effectively and efficiently with non-profits and other governmental bodies to face the social issues confronting Ferndale. She can provide the leadership our community needs to make a better Ferndale. I urge you to vote for Stacy Miller for Ferndale City Council on November 5th.

I expect more from my local news source!

The Ferndale Record ran an article (10/9/2013) on the Ferndale City Council Forum sponsored by the Ferndale Chamber of Commerce.  As would be expected, it was not a verbatim account of what was said, therein lies a problem. The article leaves one with the impression that the candidates were all pretty much on a par. For me this was anything but the case.

What I witnessed  greatly influenced my assessment of candidate performance in the forum. Here are three examples. One candidate appeared so overwhelmed by his presence before the public as to be virtually incapable of putting together complete sentences. Another candidate, spoke in such blue sky academic political philosophical speak, that I found my self almost gasping for air. Yet another was glib enough to answer a question with “What he said”.

It generally goes without saying that local elections rarely generate the much public interest. This was evident in the rather limited turn out for the forum. The bulk of the audience appeared to be, I can only assume, high school civics students. In total, I doubt that there were fewer than 50 people in attendance , though I made no effort to count them, nor apparently did the Record reporter.

Given that there will likely be very few additional opportunities for the public to actually hear from most of the candidates, as well as the low attendance at the forum, it seems even more important that the Record coverage provide more than a sanitized selective summation of the candidates responses.

I don’t envy the reporters task in trying to report about this event. It is impractical to report every word spoken. Lay upon that the presumption that reporting only be factual and value neutral and you’ve got a real problem. In spite of those things, I believe that The Ferndale Record, should have more accurately reflected/characterized the performance of the candidates on the forum.

The performance of candidates in this forum contained real information that should be available to the public. The Ferndale Record has, I believe, a responsibility to the public to do some critical performance assessment. If it couldn’t include it in the article then an attendant editorial would have been appropriate.

Persona non grata

Nearly 6 months have passed since my last post, a couple of days past my 60th birthday, then I seemed to be in a pretty sweet mood, not so recently. In fact, my mood has been pretty foul of late. A couple days ago, my mood expressed itself and today I've been designated "persona non grata" at a class which I have been volunteering at. I am having a wide variety of emotional and intellectual responses to the news.

1. There is depression which is quite in keeping with my history of poor self image, self-denigration, and repeated failure to fit in social norms.
2. There is anger which stems from the social injustice and abuse of power that it represents.
3. There is indignation that someone would judge me based on less than an hour of my life.
4. There is resignation in that I am just too damn tired of defending myself.
5. Etc ...

Here is a list of "offenses" which I believe I committed.

1. I stated that I did not find the facilities we were teaching in suitable to the task.
2. I stated that I was not enamored with our country's educational system, especially higher education and it's administrators.
3. I stated that I found the content of the citizenship examination (as presented in the study guide I was handed) to be outrageous.
4. I spoke my mind and did not comport myself as a nice little cog in the educational machine.
5. I did not hold the educational party line and sweep all my doubts, reservations, opinions, and individuality under the carpet.
6. I did all this during a conversation with an educational apparatchik (Note: I am using this term because I am slightly ticked off. The person involved may well not deserve the appellation, yet it seems to fit in some respects which I will address later.). and I may have said or done other things to give offense.

Once again, I let my emotions get the best of me and I exercised my right of free speech in a way which had unanticipated consequences for me. So why were my emotions so raw that they ran rampant over good common sense (Don't bite the hand the feeds you).

First off, I've been trying to create a database application for one of the non-profits that I work with. It has not been going well. Years and years of education, experience and lots of natural intelligence and I've been stymied for days, by software that I believe should work but seems intent on proving me wrong. My natural tendencies are to be harsh and judgmental towards myself. So I've been running around frustrated and angry for days.

Second, the facility that we moved to teach in is a boys and girls club. It is new and a nice facility for a boys and girls club, but it is not really set up for adult education classes. When I brought this up to the apparatchik , the response was basically that the institution putting on the class has a partnership with the boys & girls club, which trumps the need for a suitable learning space. This essentially felt like a dismissal of my concerns and led to my comments regarding higher education and especially it's administrators.

Third, the teacher I've been working with handed me a copy of a US Citizenship study guide. I started looking at it and my hackles rose. While I am pretty sure that I could pass a citizenship examination without a lot of preparation, it was clearly evident that a very large percentage of the Americans that I know would likely have difficulty based on the content of my very quick perusal of that study guide. Add that to the fact that at that time I had absolutely no idea how I could meaningfully assist the student I was being asked to help and my mood devolved even further.

Toss in a long time stewing distaste for the direction my beloved nation is heading in, the destruction of the middle class, increasing inequities between the haves and have nots and I spoke without giving thought to just who I was speaking to or for that matter the people who were in earshot of my conversation.

The upshot is that the apparatchik called another partnership upon which the apparatchik laid the task to tell me my volunteer services were no longer desired. Did I mention that the apparatchik, never spoke to the teacher that I've worked with for nearly the past year, nor did the apparatchik, deign to call and speak to me directly regarding my behavior.

I said I would explain my use of the term apparatchik and it boils down to this. The person who declared me "persona non grata" did so based on a few minutes of conversation that quite likely entailed some personal affronts to her role in the world. There was no apparent effort on her part to explore a larger context that this took place in. She neither spoke to the teacher, nor made any effort to speak with me before she arrived at her decision. This including passing off the notification is exactly the behavior I would expect of an apparatchik.

Now I know that the person I've been talking about is not simply a stereo-type. I recognize that she has responsibilities, passions, goals and much more that I am not privy too. Part of that is to protect her job, the programs, the institution, the values systems, she is invested in, hence, the decision to cast me out.

Perhaps, I deserve what has come to pass, yet I am hard pressed to believe it. Without some due process, in which I am given the opportunity to defend or explain my actions, this smacks of an abuse of power.

This not the first nor will it be the last time that my mouth, my emotions, and my weltanschauung will offend someone. Frankly, it happens more often than I like. There are a set of principles that I seem to adhere to pretty consistently throughout my life. I doubt that I can enumerate them all but here are a few:

1. People are more important than institutions.
2. Sweeping crap under the carpet, doesn't get rid of the crap and it still stinks.
3. We are better off being our authentic selves than hiding behind social masks.
4. Education is a poor substitute for learning.
5. Learning comes naturally until education screws it up.
6. Having an education doesn't make one any better than anyone else.
7. Conflict is rarely resolved by ignoring it.
8. Everyone is entitled to respect until they demonstrate that they are unworthy of it.
9. Everyone is entitled to earn respect even after they've squandered what they had.
10. I am frequently in conflict with and contradict myself.
11. Wisdom takes a lifetime.
12. In spite of my desire, I don't have any answers.
13. Too much credit is given for knowing so little when there is so much more to know.
14. Education helped me to become the person I am. It wasn't all bad.
15. Teaching is the art of inspiring a learner to do their best and minimizing as many impediments to that as is possible.
16. Illusions are not significantly different from delusions.

I promised myself that I would stop apologizing for who I am. I apologize when and if I give offense of a personal nature, but I have no desire to remake myself to meet institutional, programmatic, or societal expectations. I've done enough of that throughout my life.

As far as I am concerned, the loss to the class of what I brought to it greatly outweighs what some one gains from declaring me "Persona non grata".

"I really do have to rethink this volunteer thing. It is getting to be a real pain. Oops, did I say that out loud?" Note sarcasm!

60

Turned 60 yesterday. I'd once believed that I wouldn't live past 35. Am quite glad I was a terrible prognosticator.

Read a story emailed by Max Defender today and was grateful for it.

Am really grateful for this life of mine. When I do take a few moments now and then to reflect, I am truly amazed at just how blessed I am. I don't have wealth nor fame nor power but what I've been given makes those things pale by comparison. I have the wind, rainy days, a skunk in my backyard, Gail, Piper, Jeane, and Mom.

I get to experience faith, to give and receive respect, to love and be loved, to recognize the unity of life.

LIFE IS GOOD.

My Bad

Life is rampant with unintended consequences. Upon completing my last blog, I sent an email to Ferndale's mayor, police chief, city administrator, city council members, and the community resource center's coordinator, the last more because I consider her a friend, whom, I know to be deeply interested in our local community. The email was brief and contained three intentions. The first to express appreciation for the time the mayor, police chief and city administrator had put into the town hall meeting they'd held. The second to point them to the blog which I'd written in response to the town hall meeting. The third to hopefully create a positive impression of myself.

The following day I left home early, to find out that I am suffering "fractured tooth syndrome" in my number three molar and to do some volunteer work at the Ferndale Community Resource Center. I returned home to an angry and vocal spouse.

At 10 am, during my absence, the phone rang and a man, who refused to identify himself launched into a tirade at my hapless and unsuspecting wife. As I understand from my wife's report, the voice on the phone was ranting about how we couldn't be who we said we were because our address wasn't even in the county assessor's records. My wife, who had read my blog, was completely unaware of my email and was forced to piece together what the call was about while at the same time enduring the vehemence and rudeness of the caller. After refusing to identify himself, ranting at her, and apparently unwilling to give my wife an opportunity to provide a meaningful response, the caller hung up.

I suppose that the caller thought himself safely anonymous. Caller id and some quick research identified the caller as one of Ferndale's city council members. Shortly after having received my wife's report of events, I called Councilman X. I identified myself by name and stated that I was calling regarding his earlier call to our home. Councilman X, immediately launched into a tirade about how I had to be misrepresenting myself because my home address did not exist. I assured him that it did exist. That the address had been changed nearly a year ago and that I have a letter from the city planning department, explaining that they'd made an error in assigning the original address to our home and that they were changing it.

What is so ludicrous and ironic about this whole address thing is that it began because we were unable to authenticate our address with on-line resources, specifically the US Postal service. A visit to our local postmaster concluded with the postmaster and myself walking across the street to discuss the addressing issue with the city planning department. The city planning office told me that they needed to research the matter and would get back to me on the matter. About a week later I received the following via snail mail, EXHIBIT A. In the letter we received, the city planning department the assured me that they would notify all the appropriate governmental agencies about the change. I, on the other hand, was responsible for notifying the rest of the world about the change of address.

As last year's election season rolled around, I remained quite concerned about this address change and it's potential impact on my ability to vote, so I took a copy of the letter to the county assessor's office and presented it along with an address change form to insure that my right to vote and have my vote count would not be compromised.

I have no explanations why Councilman X, was unable to validate my address with county assessor's office, nor why he was unable to find any record of the address in the city's file as he claimed. I assured him that I'd look into the matter.

Returning to my conversation with the councilman. After numerous attempts to get him to drop the address issue I finally was able to ask him what he thought about what I'd written. "Too wordy" he responded. "I couldn't understand it because it was too wordy". He repeated himself with slightly modified negative phrasing several times concluding with a lecture on what was the "appropriate" manner in which to communicate with public officials. By this time, I was pretty dumbfounded by his entire rant. I told him that my wife wanted to speak with him and he hung up.

Now I would agree with Councilman X, my style can be considered wordy. I prefer to consider it thoughtful, rich in detail, rhythmic and lyrical in tone. In any event, I am sorry that he found it difficult to read and understand. On the other hand, I spent the better part of a day documenting the ideas and rationals that I had in response to the town hall meeting. It was the equivalent of several type written pages I am sure. I used my blog as the medium because it affords me the opportunity to explore my thoughts in an informal and personal manner. I invited Councilman X and others to read my blog as I did not feel obliged to create some formal rebuttal or plan in response to the town hall meeting. I believed that sharing my thoughts as I'd written them would be a sufficient contribution to the community discussion.

In the absence of facts, we often rely on speculation. Subsequent to our conversations with Councilman X, my wife and I speculated on the councilman's apparent lack of education and/or intelligence, the source of the aggressive aspersions he cast at us, his extreme rudeness, his condescension, on and on. In the end, we had to conclude that not knowing Councilman X we had no honest way of judging him, so in the end I concluded, my bad!


PS. Here's an executive summary of the above for Councilman X. "You behaved like an asshole! I trust that there is more to you than that."

Gayland Gump
2127 Poplar Drive
Ferndale, WA 98248-9179
360-671-3077

If you doubt the legitimacy of this address please see EXHIBIT A. If you are a "birther" and actual documentation is meaningless to you then you are way beyond anything I can say or do.

Our City

Last night was another first for me, I attended a town hall. Judging from the remarks from the mayor and others, attendance was just this side of spectacular, the largest in the history of such events in our fair city. An agenda was distributed and then Mayor Jensen opened the meeting with a welcome and a call for civility which was largely honored. Police Chief Knapp then provided a overview of Police Department needs, focused primarily on facility issues. A group of local library supporters kicked off a series of speakers in support of the measure to raise the levy on library operating funds. The initial appeal for more operating funds morphed over the speakers to a call to support building a new library. Frankly, I never got a clear picture of why a new library is needed other than the parking and access to the existing library are woefully inadequate. This portion of the program concluded with a speaker from the organization that is holding an anonymous million dollar donation telling us about how the donor is supporting a fund raiser to find additional donations for a new library.

The mayor and another community member spoke on the long history of attempts to find an adequate home for the police department. The woman who spoke on this particularly emphasized the repeated cost of studies made during these efforts. The city administrator followed with a summary of current city plan for building a new library and converting and expanding the existing library into a police facility almost six times as large as the current facility.

A very cursory presentation of a so called "people's plan" followed which involved moving the current public works facilities to another location, building a new library at the current public works site, moving city hall into the existing library, putting the police department into the current city hall and finally resurrecting the old fire damage boys and girls club into a community center. This plan was discounted by the presenters as being too complex and costly. That the proponents of this plan were not allowed to present it frankly weakened the city staff's critic for me. Councilman Zimmerman a proponent of the people's plan did make an after the fact argument for the plan. How effective he was able to be in view of the prior skewed presentation remains to be seen.

The meeting was then open to questions and comment by the town hall attendees. At this point I will need to abandon any further efforts to report on the various questions, comments, and rebuttals made by the public and city staff, as I made no effort to record them in the detail they warranted.

I lost a lot of sleep last night tossing and turning as I tried to get my head around the plans that were being presented and what I could get behind. I came to the conclusion that the solutions being proposed just don't make good sense to me. First I am not sure that I can agree with some fundamental assumptions of this debate. So let me start with some basic questions/concerns that I feel are pertinent.

First do we really need a new library? What I heard last night only convinced me that we need additional parking and a better access/egress plan for the library.

Let's examine my fundamental concept of a library. Libraries are repositories for the accumulated knowledge, wisdom, and cultural minutia of mankind. Libraries differ from museums primarily in that the material's provided are expected to be readily and generally available for use. Library staff perform the essential tasks of creating and maintaining systematic access and order to the materials housed in the library. A library without a committed, knowledgeable, well motivated, service oriented staff is about as useful as my attic.

You'll notice that my definition of a library says nothing about the form a library actually takes. Historically, the first libraries were oral, embodied in the story teller lineages of our most ancient ancestors. Subsequently scribes, provided more lasting but still relatively fragile and transitory materials from which to build our libraries. Gutenberg brought mass production and opened the doors to the modern library. Technology is once again altering the fundamental substrate upon which we will be recording our accumulated knowledge, wisdom and cultural minutia. Today we are imprinting this information on atomic scales. The consequence of this is that I can carry in my hand a substantial portion of the Library of Congress. It's entire contents and frankly digital representations of every unique item in all the worlds libraries could easily fit on a single wall in my home. I will not be surprised if that will shrink to something that I can hold in my hand in the not too distant future. The upshot of this discussion is that we are about to undergo a significant change in how we will deliver library services.

I expect that fewer and fewer physical manifestations of our literature, books, magazines, newspaper will be produced. More and more archives will be converted to digital forms. I know that there are many people who dread such a future, especially those devoted bibliophiles for whom the touch, scent, and sight of tome upon tome running off into the mysterious darkness in library stacks are the truest rendition of heaven. What is coming are simple ubiquitous tablets that techno-magically render in visual and/or aural ways the contents of the all the libraries of man. Over time our librarians will find themselves supplanted by technology because they can't match the speed and comprehensiveness of artificially intelligent search engines. It will take a while for this future to manifest, judging from the changes I've seen in my life, I can easily imagine this taking place in the next 20 years and most likely sooner.

Now a library is more than the collection materials it holds. It provides a wealth of programs and meets a variety individual and community needs. I don't think the need for library's will disappear, but I do believe that less and less space will be needed to house the content of libraries. In my opinion, the days of large libraries are over. I would argue that an investment in small neighborhood based libraries makes much more sense. A million dollars may not build a large brick and mortar library today, but if could easily pay for 3 or 4 modest community libraries. Placing these in proximity to the people who use them reduces the need for travel to and from the libraries. Built with green technologies they can serve as models of a better way to live sustainably. The facilities if properly designed could serve as community refuges in times of danger. Hours of operation could conform better to the needs of a smaller community thus achieving operational efficiencies. Many of our communities today lack a focal point for the exercise of community. Large public edifices are ill suited to supporting the kinds of gatherings that serve to build and unite communities. Smaller facilities are often more welcoming and approachable.

Our current library might be insufficient to serve the current needs of the entire city, but it would certainly be adequate to serving it's local community. Distributing community based library facilities throughout our city would allow us to add capacity in tandem with our actual growth, thereby omitting many of the limitations and problems created by faulty foresight.

I believe that much of what I have said about libraries applies to police stations as well. Do we need/want a monolithic edifice to house our law enforcement and public safety functions? Should this edifice attempt to balance legitimate security needs with needs for open access for the public?

I have been in the current police facility and I absolutely support providing our law enforcement folks with much better facilities than they currently are being subjected to.

We know from experiences in the past decade that it can take only single dedicated terrorist, eg. Timothy James McVeigh, to bring down any large building. Frankly, it doesn't make sense to me to build such targets in the first place. Terrorists are only one of many potential threats to our public safety people and a minor one at that. Mother nature is a far more likely and deadly threat. In view of this I believe that decentralization of our public safety facilities is both a more pragmatic and ultimately cost effective approach to meeting public safety facility needs.

Decentralization of our public safety facilities serves many purposes:

1. It geographically distributes physical risk to our public safety facilities from man made or natural cataclysmic events.
2. It would help ensure that needed resources are accessible from different places in our city.
3. It would facilitate implementation of community policing practices.
4. It would allow gradations of security appropriate to actual needs.
5. It would help minimize response times in times of critical need by reducing travel times.
6. It would allow us to add capacity in tandem with the actual growth of our city.
7. I suspect there are more points to be added here but right now they are not coming to me, feel free to suggest them via comments to this post.

Let me state something now that I think is important our city's public safety facilities. Creating a safe and secure environment requires much thought and planning, furthermore, it requires thought and planning that is frankly far outside the realm of the average person's experience. Secure facilities are most successful when they are purposefully build. Taking a library or any other building for that matter and attempting to convert it to a truly secure facility is laughable in my opinion. There are a many levels of security, the tighter they become the more costly they are to implement. Cost containment can be had by insuring that the level of security is justified by the need.

Building a community police station that provides primarily administrative support and public access to basic services does not demand a fortress.

The next level of security requires the management of people who are potentially harmful to themselves or others. Facilities to protect everyone in such circumstances require controlled access, egress, and short term isolation and/or confinement. It makes sense to me to locate investigatory assets in facilities with this level of security.

At the town hall much was made of the lack of adequate physical security for evidential property in the city. My contention is that the best security and most cost effective for this are remote/isolated facilities (bunkers) with multiple physical barriers (high fences and lots of razor wire) and tightly controlled entry/egress points. I believe that collocation of manned communication , forensic labs, data and administrative centers, etc. with evidential property sites is an excellent match.

I would also contend that the public information and public administration functions of the police department are best located in or near city hall.

Another item that came up at the town hall that I found particularly interesting were the comments regarding the $300,000 plus communication's van that the police have obtained. I applaud the efforts of our public safety folks to acquire this resource. Now I have to ask, how are we going to use it? What are it's capabilities? If those capabilities are important enough to warrant its use in times of emergency, wouldn't they also be useful in day to day operations?
Furthermore, wouldn't it be best if they were actually used on a day to day basis to insure that they were in fact operational at the time an emergency occurred; that not only our public safety staff but all our public employees were trained and skilled in the use of this emergency communications resource through daily use? I don't really get why we would acquire something as basic as communications capabilities and then limit our use of them to emergency situations.

Let me conclude this missive with a few comments about the future as I see it. I believe that we as country have been undergoing profound changes during my generation, I am a tail end baby boomer. I believe that we have been undergoing a massive wealth transfer from the middle and lower classes to the coffers of a small and increasingly affluent upper class. I believe that we are seeing diminishing opportunities for education, employment and upward social movement. I believe that "free market" capitalism as an economic system is based on false assumptions and that the system currently in place is anything but free and competitive.

I want very much to believe that my country is the best that it can be and the best in the world. I love America, she is my homeland. I'm a veteran and I believe that in some small way I've earned the right to be critical of her. My country is on a path now that truly frightens me. Disinformation, out right lies, hate speech, bigotry, run rife in our nation. A sizable group of individuals and organizations are responsible for most of it, funded by corporations controlled by a network of interlocking of corporate boards, executives, and wealthy individuals. I do believe that they believe that their world view is the right one. I disagree.

I strongly doubt that our economic woes will rebound in the near term and that we will see appreciable economic growth for a long while. Too many fundamental economic factors are going in the wrong directions. Loss of capital resources and manufacturing to the far east, corruption in government, business, and main stream media all bode ill for us. All of this is way beyond any influence I can bring to bear on the world. So I am choosing to focus most of my energy effecting what I can reach, my community. I hope that you will have found some worth while ideas to chew on in the above. I welcome your civil comments.

Sincerely,

Gayland Gump aka Muckwa Ogimaa aka Red Path Walker

My Response to Obama's Health Care Reform Speech

I'll get behind your plan as soon as you stand behind single payer health care.

As far as I can tell, I am being sold down the river by my party, the administration, and you, Mr. President. We, Progressives, have seen our country brought to virtual bankruptcy on so many fronts by the regressive policies of conservative and centrist elements in our country. It is time for the pendulum of justice and right to swing back.

The right has redefined the debate in my country so that our ideas are dismissed out of hand. I cannot sit by any longer and wait for moderation of right wing extremism. I want justice for all Americans. I want affordable comprehensive health care for all Americans.

The solution is pretty simple. Dismantle the massive American WAR Machine and use the savings to provide health care to the American people. Straight up and simple. Naive? Together we can do anything we choose. Isn't that your message of hope, Mr. President?

Five months to the day ...

So it has been 5 months to the day since I put up my last blog. Nearly half a year. I said before that I didn't think I was really cut out for this blogging thing. It was a pleasure though to go back and read my last blog. A couple of weeks ago I posted a note up on my Facebook wall. Granted it was a piece that I'd written almost 3 years ago that I'd come across while wading through the never ending paper deluge that follows me through life. It too, was a pleasure to read. I thought, you know not many people have seen this. Its good for a few sentimental tears. I should share it. To the best of my knowledge only my youngest daughter has seen it, or at least was the only one moved to comment on it. I know it's good when I read something that I wrote and it still brings a tear to my eye.

I guess I want the same response from my blog as I got from Bill Moody's eulogy or the letter I read at my eldest daughter's wedding. People came to me and shared their tears with me, letting me know that they could feel the love that I feel, that my words touched their hearts and minds.

I know that this blog reaches few readers. It's lack of regularity and iconoclastic focus no doubt don't help it to gain notoriety. I keep thinking that I need to communicate with more people. I know there have to be others out there that are as outraged and angry as I am. They're the people who I know I can reach because I've done it before.

I am like a lot of Americans, politics gives me the creeps. For the most part, I've thought politics doesn't seem to impact my life on a day to day basis. Yet, I am coming to realize that is not true. I've been paying attention to politics pretty intensely now for almost a year and a half. It started when I realized that in order to serve my community I had to actually involve myself in my community.

Initially, I did that by volunteering with my county democratic party organization. I found that I was not well suited to that degree of participation. I did not have the will to put up with bad behavior on the part of others. I wasn't willing to throw out my rationality or principles in the name of political expediency. On the other hand, I did find that at least some others thought I had some leadership skills and it has lead me to much more aware of just how much of my life is being impacted by politics in my country.

Unable to function in a political party environment effectively but knowing that I still needed to involve myself in my community, lead me to volunteer in an environment where I knew I would excel. I went back to elementary school! Finally, I was around folks that I could understand and provide some modicum of service to, first and second graders.

I expanded upon that by volunteering with a local community center providing socialization and recreational opportunities to special needs folks. A couple times a month, I take my collection of drums and other instruments to the center or a park and encourage these wonderful people to be loud and outrageous.

I was at a loss when school went out of session. Dropping from 12+ hours hanging with all those wonderful elementary types was tough. Fortunately, a Sun Dance at the end of June, provided me with a whole new opportunity to be of service. My wife and I traveled to near Dunseith, North Dakota.

There I had the great fortune to meet a fantastic community of people and to share a very spiritual five days supporting the Sun Dance. My experience as I slammed an ax into the tree that was to become "Lone Man" was awesome and lead to my commitment to fast with the dancers for the next four days. Due to health concerns, I did take water during the fast unlike my brothers and sisters who suffered without. It was an extraordinary few days.

Finally, arriving back home at the beginning of July, I was once again bereft of community engagement, aside from the couple of hours scheduled to work with the Max Higbee Center. Fortunately, my wife's desire to check out the Ferndale Farmer's market one Saturday lead to an encounter with a very energetic woman promoting the not too recently established Ferndale Community Resource Center (FCRC). A subsequent meeting lead to more meetings, so now I am engaged in helping to set up an Internet presence for the FCRC and donating some embroidery to its parent organization the Ferndale Community Service Cooperative (FCSC). There's been some talk of getting on the board's of one or both of these organizations.

The good news is that school starts in about 10 days. I've been told that I should contact the school in the middle of September after they have a better idea of their volunteer needs. Woohoo! Maybe I'll get to hang with Kindergartners along with the 1st and 2nd graders.

Still there is all this outrage and anger I am feeling. It stems from the very sick political machinations have and are being played out daily in our national politics. What Reagan, Bush I & II, Cheney and the Republican Party in particular have done to this county appalls me. The redistribution of wealth from the middle classes and poor to the obscenely wealthy, the disemboweling of the few legal protections we had by immoral, greedy corporate predators in the financial, energy, pharmaceutical, insurance and health care industries, to mention just some, truly sickens me.

The salaries, bonuses, and other rip offs that are being awarded to CEOs, CFOs, COOs and other management plutocrats in the corporate world is obscene, outrageous and without any valid justification. The good ole US of A is not the democracy that I loved. It is in fact a plutocracy or or tipping over into being one. Money talks and the people with all our money are the bankers who ripped us off big time with the financial crisis they created and it's the bail out; the health care industries, who feathered their beds to the tune of a thousand fold increase in their profits in the past 8 years alone; the oil barons who led us into a war in Iraq, lying to us all the way; the main stream media which is owned and controlled in-toto by corporate interests; and finally the lobbyist and bought and paid for politicians, who've facilitated this wholesale theft.

There is so much more beyond economics that we've lost in the past two generations. My parents were children of the depression. The social contract that FDR established with them, and Kennedy and Johnson extended is being torn apart by the people that Eisenhower warned us about.

I am outraged, angry and increasingly hopeless. Obama, today's great hope, appears to be selling us down the river, assisted by Rahm Emanual, the Blue Dogs, ConservaDems, the Republican Party and the obscene right wing media (Oh yeah it appears there is no real left wing media, unless you count the paltry few, The Nation, MSNBC, Air America, and PBS. Thank god for the left wing bloggers.) Fox News, Limbaugh, Hannity, Beck, and others the right have successfully entrenched in talk radio.

Having vented I don't feel any better. All I know is that I am doing what I can now. I am trying to stay informed about what is going on in politics and I AM SHOUTING AS LOUD AS I CAN TO ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN.

"Get involved, express yourself, write, call your Senator, Congressman, President, local political leaders, your neighbors, anyone who will listen. Take back our country from the plutocrats and crazies."

A very good day.

This past Saturday was pretty cool for me. While G^2 went off to a "Gardening with Northwest Native Plants" out at Cloud Mountain Farm, I participated along with a couple dozen or so others in "The Ceremony of 8,000 Sacred Drums" (Historical Reference). The ceremony took place at Maritime Heritage Park in Bellingham beginning at 10:45 am, led by Unci (Lakota: grandmother) Jan Super.

Unci Super and a half dozen or so others were there as I showed up with 3 of my drums, turtle rattle, and 3 of my flutes. Unci Super, fired up some sage and smudged us. She started us off with a heart beat rhythm, offering prayers, until 11:00. People kept drifting in, mostly in ones and twos. Members of the Lummi Tribe arrived with a powwow drum. I don't know if this is a tribal drum, but I had that impression. In any event, Unci Super welcomed it with appropriate fanfare.

Unci Super, sang a summoning song, calling in spirits from the four directions. She guided us to face each direction as she sang and we drummed with her. She told a story of a man, who while on a Hanblecheyapi (vision quest) had a vision. In his vision, he saw an arbor. At the east gate, he saw yellow flags for the yellow nations, the south had black flags for the black nations, the west white flags for the white nations, and the north red flags for the red nations. The arbor had been the sole province of the red nation but in his vision the man saw all the races of man within the arbor. (Note, I may have not gotten the colors associated with the proper gates as my memory for this kind of thing seems seriously flawed.)

The man took his vision to his elders seeking their guidance. After 4 days they bade him to go forth and follow his vision. Now, I'd heard this story about 10 years ago when I first embarked on my walk along the red road. Next, Unci Super, put a name to this man, "Martin High Bear". As she said his name a warm flush and tingle spread through my body. I felt a magnificent new sense of connection to Unci Super, the drumming, and the ceremony.

It was with great pleasure that I realized that Unci Super had a connection with Martin. I only have a distant connection with him. Leon Stiffarm, who held the first sweat lodge I attended, and others appear to have known Martin personally. Martin was responsible in part for opening Native American ceremonies to others outside the red nation. So I am personally indebted to him and his followers for the leadership they've provided that has allowed me to share a spiritual path that resonates with me.

As the ceremony continued, a couple of the Lummi women who accompanied the powwow drum, sang at Unci Super's behest. Unci Super, sang more, said prayers and led us all in a dance. She asked several time's if people had songs to share, one woman offered a song that was totally unknown to me, I couldn't even tell what language she was singing in. She was across the circle from me, far enough that with the drums accompanying her I wasn't really able to make out her song in any detail. I wanted very badly to offer a song. The best I could do thought was to tell Unci Super that there was a Lakota Thanksgiving song that was sang in lodge that I loved to sing but couldn't lead. Fortunately, Unci Super knew the song and led it. I did my best to sing with her though as with so many of the songs I have been exposed to my memory seemed to fail me and I was far enough away from her that I had difficulty following her lead.

The ceremony concluded with several minutes of heart beat rhythm. I pulled out a couple of my flutes and played a couple quick runs as a personal offering in appreciation of the ceremony and to satisfy my ego needs for attention. A couple approached me about the flutes and I got the opportunity to promote Miguel's and his flutes with them. I had to excuse myself from talking with them as Unci Super was getting ready to depart. I thanked her for mentioning Martin High Bear and asked her if she knew of any lodges that would welcome someone such as myself. She said that her lodge would welcome me. So I gave her my number and email address. She said that she would begin work soon to bring the lodge into order. I told her I would be interested in helping her to get the lodge up and running. So now I am waiting for a call or email to join in the effort.

I was very pleased that all my drums were used in the ceremony. A couple of women showed up early on sans drums and I was able to offer my extras. I didn't really interact with many of the participants. I was impressed that their seemed to be a fairly wide range of folks. Women seemed to be the most numerous distinct group. They seemed diverse in thier makeup otherwise. It was very cool. I am indebted to the person who sent me an invitation though I have no notion of who she is nor how she came to include me in her invitation. So I feel blessed to have been a part of the whole event.

I returned home to G^2 grateful for my path, my life. Later, after a bit of begging G^2 agreed to accompany me to the drumming group I've been doing monthly since leaving my job at Marianne's House. The group is comprised of members of the Max Higbee Center, an organization supporting the developmentally handicapped community in Bellingham, Washington.

It was the largest gathering for drumming since I began offering the group. Every drum and most of the percussion instruments in my big black bag were in use for most of the hour that we were there. The folks I drum with there are vary greatly in their abilities but seem united in spirit. They respond exceptionally well to my buffoonery and teasing. Drumming provides many opportunities to share in community experience denied many of these folks in their everyday existence.

I wish I could have captured the joy and exuberance that developed during our hour together and share that with you all. Yeah, it isn't great music, but somehow it sounded good to me. When I think back on the faces I witnessed as various people stood to take charge of the group I am brought to tears. So I got to act the clown, drum and watch others blissfully share in an event that I helped bring about. It was a damned good evening and afterwards G^2 and I supped at Supon's, which I suspect may be the best Thai food in Bellingham.

It was a very good day. Mitakue Oyasin.

Musings

Well, judging by my long absence from the blogosphere, blogging is not a deeply ingrained or urgent activity. I have actually thought on several occasions that I wanted to blog about some topic or another. But I was unable to overcome the feeling that my efforts would have the net effect of pissing into the wind. It seems largely pointless to write when I have little if any real audience. On the other hand, I desperately want to make some difference in the world.

I have been giving a lot of thought these past few years about my life. I most often end up visualizing my self as an infinitesimal point in an infinitely large and wondrous universe. This is not a bad description. Regardless of how small I might be in the grander scheme of things, the whole would not be the same whole if I were not here. So in this sense, I define the whole just as it defines me. We have this mutual thing going: Mitakue Oyasin ( All my relations).

There is a lot of comfort in those thoughts. Yet, there is another avenue of thought which proves to be troubling for me. In this visualization, I am a hapless bit of flotsam tossed about in the time-stream of existence. Emotionally, I feel as if I have no control. Intellectually, I believe that control is illusory.

Mostly, I can't seem to find anything that seems like ambition or chosen direction within me. The material world for the most part has little draw for me. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy my creature comforts and have an obscenely large collection of things attached to me. But when I think about these comforts and things for any length of time I recognize that in large part I could live, not as comfortably, but nonetheless live without almost all of it.

It bothers me to think that in large part I have a similar relationship to people as I have with things. In this case though, my people world is decidedly less crowded than my things world. At present, my people world consist of four people. G^2(my partner/wife), my daughters P & J, and Mom. Oh, I have other family and know other people, but when it comes right down to it these are the only people that I share any significant part of myself with.

It bothers me that I have no functioning social group. Yes, there are people out there that I count as friends and feel strongly towards, Brenda, Miguel and Peter. Yet in truth, we shared a very narrow range of experience together, primarily sharing ourselves at the sweat lodge. I see my friends rarely since moving from Portland. In the 2 plus years that we've been in Bellingham/Ferndale, I have yet to make any new friends, numerous acquaintances, but no friends.

Honestly, friends have been a rarity in my life. People have pretty much come and gone in my life, touching me, even changing me some, but none have remained close and connected. This is no doubt due to a very introspective and possibly narcissistic personality on my part. I can't seem to maintain a long term outward focus.

Clearly I am adrift, my thoughts wandering to and fro as I write this. When I started I'd thought that I should just write and see what came out. Not surprising that, in part a sense of lonely has come to the fore. I suspect that my longing for connection will most likely go unfulfilled as I am unlikely to undergo some trans-formative experience which will alter my fundamental pattern of being.

I did want to talk a bit about my want to have some direction in my life. What I am talking about here is actually more than a direction. What I am looking for is a Passion, an Obsession, something that drives me forward. I am suddenly struck by the irony of what I am asking for, in the sense that I have never felt as if I was in control of my life and here I am asking for something to take control away from me and drive me.

I am a dabbler! I paint. I draw. I write. I act. I drum. I play flutes. I do lots and lots of things. None of the particularly well. I enjoy doing them but I am not compelled to do any of them. I am not compelled to excel at anything. I suspect that fear of failure may be at the root of my lack of compulsion to excel. Maybe, I am truly just too lazy.

I am not happy with my lack of drive, because I want my life to amount to something more than just existence. Although, I do think it is pretty cool that the universe wouldn't be the same if I weren't here. I want my existence to have some larger impact on the universe. I suppose that is ambition, so I guess I do have it. So I am coming full circle once again. Leading me back to that mantra which plagues me and pushes me up against my fear, my angst. "Show Up!" "Show Up!"

Rick Warren, The Inauguration and appropriate response.

I am in a minority. Yeah, I am white, male, and middle class, but that is not the minority I am talking about at this moment. Come to think of it though, the minority I think I am in might not actually be a minority. It could actually be a majority but an unrecognized one or perhaps just silent. The minority I am thinking about is the community of the spiritual but non-religious.

It has been a long haul to where I am spiritually. Most of my life lacked faith in anything but that the world was full of pain and injustice, and that I was powerless to do anything about it. I am better now.

First, I found gratitude. Gratitude for my life. It was a small beginning but upon it I was able to build an appreciation for the wonders of the world that surround me. From there I was able to recognize that while there is still pain and injustice in the world, there are powers that are far more powerful, Love, Respect, Charity, Hope , Unity, and more. That when these powers are rolled together they are the foundations of Faith and a belief in something greater. The Faith becomes a recognition that we are all parts of an infinite whole and that the whole is greater than the sum of us. My faith I have come to refer to as Creator.

This subject came up for me a couple weeks ago and I was outraged to say the least as I listened to the controversy about Rick Warren and the role Obama was giving him in the inauguration. At first that it was the anti-gay stance that he represented. As I heard more I came to realize that it is really the intolerance of the evangelical movement in general that I abhor.

The bottom line is that in this country anyone's faith is a personal matter. Rick Warren should not be given a forum in this inauguration which will raise his public presence. Obama wants to be inclusive; fine, find someone who is open to all faiths and let him/her do the invocation.

So I object to Rick Warren on the grounds that we can not tolerate purveyors of intolerance in our public spectacles. Since Obama is unlikely to reverse this decision on my account or anyone else that has objected. I am left with only one recourse; to find a way to express my displeasure. I won't be in Washingon but I do intend to spend the day watching the inauguration on television.

It occurred to me that both I and the public should have a way to display our displeasure with this intolerant man. This display should be simple non-violent and blatantly obvious. As I imagined various possibilities, it came to me that if every person who finds Rick Warrens intolerance intolerable were to turn in silence his/her back to Mr. Warren while he speaks, it would deliver a most effective protest.

So, when the time comes and Rick Warren steps to the podium to deliver his invocation. I will be standing at home with my back turned to Mr. Warren's image on my TV, listening, but demonstrating my disdain for the intolerance that he exhibits.

Pissed!

I am weary. The fear of failure that I somehow developed long ago in my childhood has worn me down. Any ambition that I once had has been gone for a long time now. In the past few weeks, I have wanted to write but just couldn't get myself to commit the time and energy to it. It was easier to let myself mindlessly chase illusions in FreeCiv.

I want to write because my fears are running high. I feared that my country would continue on the abhorrent path that it has been pursuing for at least the past 8 years. I might have been able to tolerate McCain but the idea of Sarah Palin one heartbeat from the Presidency absolutely terrorized me.

And I am ANGRY.

I AM Angry that my patriotism and love of country was being indirectly challenged by right wing ideologues in their denouncements of Michelle Obama for at last finding something truly worthy of respect in her political experience of America, of Reverend Jeremiah Wright for angrily finding fault with the America of his experience, and of William Ayers for having taken a stand against his own country in a matter of conscience. Being free to dissent from the commonly accepted beliefs about our nation is a fundamental principle and freedom upon which this very nation is founded. That people should be judged as somehow lacking in patriotism for exercising this right infuriates me!

Was Ayers a "terrorist" or a "patriot" and is calling him a "terrorist" just the most convenient way to dehumanize and dismiss him. Violence as a way of obtaining goals of any kind is repugnant to me, but evidently not to G.W. Bush, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, and Paul Wolfowitz.

(God, I just found out that Wolfowitz, got his PHd in Political Science at the University of Chicago in 1972. I think I'm gonna be sick. Maybe if I'd been more radical and the least bit prone to violence and very prescient, I could have wacked him at the graduation ceremony and saved the country from entering another fucking war! It really makes me think that I have to re-think my time at the U of C. I was only aware of the leftist political groups, probably because they were the most vocal and publicly visible. Clearly, the extreme right was there too. Me, I was mostly apolitical, as I have been most of my life. Politics just plain makes my skin crawl. I feel incredibly dirty after being around it for even short periods of time.)

I AM Angry at the attempts to utilize guilt by association in an attempt to demonize Barack Obama.

I AM Angry that racism is still a blatant reality in MY country.

I am angry that our leaders and their cronies demonize and dehumanize our enemies. The very act of doing so serves only to justify the barbarism of our actions. How is a missile strike that kills innocent civilians any the less abhorrent than suicide bomber detonating him/herself among a bunch of innocents. How does losing thousands innocent lives in the world trade towers justify the tens of thousand of lives that have been and are being taken in Iraq and Afghanistan.

I can't help but wonder that if our forefathers had failed in their effort to establish this nation wouldn't they have been judged as terrorists by history. Weren't the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki or the Dresden Fire bombing acts of terrorism? Is a declaration of war all that it takes to redefine terrorism?

It is terrible that some people feel compelled to use violence to obtain what they want in the world. I don't see much difference between the likes of Osama bin Laden and George W. Bush and their cronies. Bush's actions have led to considerably more death and destruction than anything that bin Laden and Al Qaeda have managed. Don't get me wrong. I do believe that those who use violence are legitimate targets for responsive violence. I just haven't been able to make the connection between Iraq and Al Qaeda since before the war started.

I guess the sum of all this is that I am angry because I feel so helpless. We elect a new leader, Barak Obama, and I get that he wants to make nice and not continue the incessant and useless partisan political bickering and posturing that have been the American poliical experience for as long as I can remember. But what he fails to understand is that we the American people have been violated, virtually raped, during the past 8 ¥ears. Yes, Al Qaeda, was responsible for some of that, but the more pernicious violations have been perpetrated upon us by Bush, Cheney, the rest of the neo-cons, and the abdominal greed of the people in positions of trust and power.

I want accountability! I want Justice! I want Vengeance! And I am afraid that there is none of that left in the world that I live in.

Its been a while

My last blog was June 1st, over 2 months ago. At that time I was reporting my about attending my first political fund-raiser. I have to report that my foray into the world of political activism came to an abrupt halt not long after my previous blog.

I am feeling disappointed in myself, yet I suspect that I made the best choice for myself. I don't know if I imagined, concocted, or just misinterpreted Creator's guidance about this undertaking. I know that my blood pressure was becoming increasingly erratic. That peoples responses to my ideas appeared to be that I was naive and too idealistic. My sense of it was that some people needed to act NOW! My plodding tortoise style did not fit the hare style that some felt was needed in response to what they saw as a crisis time.

It was just so far beyond my comfort level that when someone chose to complete a task that I had told them I would take care of, after having explicitly asked them to back off and let me do the job I was being asked to do, I chose to bail out of the whole thing. I hate being a quitter, a failure. It is not how I like to think of myself. I was very angry at the time. I've wondered if allowing myself to chose the course I did was the best thing. I haven't any answers.

In the middle of June, Gail and I received a letter from the property management company handling the duplex we live in, announcing a rent increase and demanding that we sign another years lease. For some reason, it really ticked Gail off and after she talked to them about it she was even madder. Now Gail is generally very even tempered when stuff like this comes up, I tend to be the really irrational one. I find myself wondering if her anger was her way of generating the energy to overcome any fears she might have about buying a home. Having been down the homeowner path 3 times before I was definitely the follower to Gail's lead as we began looking for a new home.

I have little use for apartment living, although, the duplex we've been in the past year and 7 months has proven to be largely pleasant. We have way too much stuff and are consequently cramped beyond what I like. On the other hand, being a home owner is not all that it is cracked up to be. I have little interest in lawn care or home maintenance.

Still I want more space. I keep thinking that if I just have the room, I'll be able to paint, do woodwork, sculpt, make pottery. When I am honest with myself I acknowledge that I am a dreamer much more than a doer. So the need for space is mostly just an excuse for not doing. I have the software and computing tools to do a variety of creative activities. I've got dozens of musical instruments, video camera, paints and stuff. I have been told that I am very creative and artistic. What I seem to be lacking is the drive to actually do anything. Yet I seem to be busy a good deal of the time.

In the past several months I've expended huge amounts of time playing Free Civ. It really perplexes me that I will engage in this activity for hours on end, yet will not pursue the activities that I claim to want to do. I can't fail to notice that the precious time left me on this plane is passing it seems ever more quickly. Is my reluctance, my malaise really because I feel that I have nothing of any real value to contribute? Is it because nothing I've done measures up to some arbitrary standards that I've set? Is it because I have no passion or faith left in me? Is it that I am just lazy?

I guess that is why my thoughts come around to serving others. At least if I am in service to others then everything is not about me. A topic that I am frankly bored with and have little hope of ever reaching a good accord with. Anyway, Gail's desire and will to find us a new home came at a good time for me. It has helped me to keep a lot of my negative soul searching and musings somewhat at bay.

Now we are waiting to see if the house we've selected from the dozen plus that we looked at is going to become ours. Actually, the banks, but we get to live in it and pay over a half a million over the next 30 years or so for the privilege. Damn, that muscle in my back is spasming, the one that I think of as containing my negativity and stress.

Jeane aka Nova Dawn (my youngest daughter) stopped by to visit on her way to Vancouver. She was in tow with Talia Rose, a Sun Dancer and woman, whom Jeane identifies as a mentor, friend, and spiritual guide. Talia's son, Jeremiah, completed the entourage. Now, I must admit that I am skeptical of psychics/mediums/channelers and the like but Talia carries with her the title Sun Dancer. Her devotion was made plain to me when she invited me to share her pipe and morning ceremony. In recent years I have come to respect those who dance for the people. I have not had the courage to step up and endure the suffering that they have. Still, I have come to know that being a Sun Dancer does not mean that these people are without fault nor free from the negative.

Talia offered me a reading as we waited for our meals to be delivered at the Old Town Cafe in Bellingham last Saturday. Now I had spoken freely with Talia about many topics in the few hours before she offered to do the reading. Enough so that much of what she told me in the reading came as no surprise and fit with my general assessment of such readings as primarily an integration of bits and pieces of personal information given to the reader through conversation and behavior run through a generalized model of human behavior/aspiration in a form of feedback loop assessment. Intellectual assessment aside I was much more interested in my emotional reactions. As I listened I felt myself teetering on the edge of tears wanting to hear something that would unequivocally answer my most pressing questions.

Talia's reading certainly fed my ego and was inspirational as I suspect it was intended to be, my skeptical self thought. Since Talia is a Sun Dancer, I want to give her reading the respect that I accord her sacrifice, but it is hard to believe when I also know that part of how Talia supports herself is through giving readings such as this for money, though she gifted this reading to me hence it was free from any monetary influence. I have no doubt that there are people out there who have vision and Talia may very well be such a person.

I have a hard time remembering things these days. Talia said a bunch, much more than I had expected. The basics where that my path is to use my art to communicate stories that need to be told. I am not doing her much service here as it was much fuller than that. My hope is that Jeane will be able to help me remember more and will perhaps talk about this in her blog.

I want to take a moment to talk about Jeane and myself. She and I are so much alike that it hurts sometimes. Her self doubt is so much akin to my own that I wonder if it is genetic or is it just that she grew up with me as her father. She asked to borrow an auto harp that I have. I was reluctant to lend it to her, so I offered up some conditions on lending it. This upset and angered her. Her response to me left me feeling hurt as well.

In her self denigration I see myself and I feel responsible for failing to parent her in a way that would allow her to be free of the fears that have plagued me throughout my life. I see in Jeane the same far ranging imagination and intelligence that I grew up with, the same passion for principles, justice, compassion and the same fears of not fitting in, of not being good enough. I do not want her to be where I am when she is my age. I do not want her to be floundering and asking what the hell purpose does she have in life.

I believe my daughters are far better people than I am, smarter, more talented and gifted, more generous, giving, loving, etc. I am proud of my daughters and I love them without reservation.

So once again I am at a loss as to what path I should follow. My thoughts keep coming back to being of service to others, yet I have no sense of how I should go forward.

To Sheep or Not to Sheep

Last night was another first for me. I attended my first political party fund raiser. Needless to say I dressed up for the occasion, blue jeans instead of sweat pants. I wasn't exactly surprised to find that I appeared to be the only one wearing a stylish tie-dyed tee shirt. My only real competition color wise was a woman wearing a rather large orange and white floral print or at least she was the only one of whom I was cognizant. It was comforting to note later in the evening that the guy sitting behind me out of my view was another long hair only he was dressed to the hilt in biker leathers.

Fashion aside, I deliberated hard and long on what I was going to wear to this event. Do I cave to social expectations that have been implanted in me since birth and conform or do I behave as I've chosen for the past years and dress for my own comfort. I wear sweats most of the time these days for the simple reason that I am obese. Much to my beloved Gail's chagrin, I have absolutely no desire to conform to any expectations regarding the garb I wear, save that it be relatively clean. Getting hung up on or even thinking about fashion or what is appropriate garb is something that I have no interest in whatsoever.

I do on the other hand, like to attract attention, at least so it seems. The choice of the tie dye was also a deliberate one; not entirely for the reasons that one might think though; reasons which actually have to do with why I was attending a political fund raiser for the first time in my life.

Since the caucuses in February, I have been increasingly attending to the political happenings in our country. I have also been aware of my increasing frustration with the erosion of personal liberty, lack of respect for human rights, failure to provide real stewardship of our world, and the list goes on that marks the abysmal political leadership I have witnessed throughout my adult life. The only and I mean only President (of those who've been in charge since I became aware that there were Presidents) that I have any respect for is Jimmy Carter, whom I know many may regard as a presidential failure, largely due to forces that I believe where well beyond his influence, much less control. I have a child's perspective on President Kennedy, whose assassination and it's impact on my life are more reflective of the sorrow expressed within our nation than any true comprehension of his real accomplishments or lack thereof. His challenge to get us to the moon was truly inspiring and "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country" seems to be near the root of any political belief that I have.

In recent years, as I have sat in the sweat lodge or out walking in nature, I have repeatedly prayed to Creator for guidance in how I should conduct my life. I have asked for help in recognizing his guidance and in keeping my heart, mind, and soul open to his answers. As I have heard no ethereal voices nor witnessed any burning bushes, I have come to understand that the guidance he will be delivering is by way of the things that attract my attention, pull me towards them. Thus it was with the caucus and things political in the past few months.

I have been noticing a much more extroverted me these past few months. I can't seem to stop talking with people. Having people express their appreciation for my leadership at the caucus caught my attention. I made jokes about just having a loud voice and other self denigrating remarks as is my usual reaction to public attention, something I crave yet abhor. In any case it caught my attention, so I began thinking that this must be the direction Creator intends for me. Now, I know that I may well be full of proverbial excrement, but that's they way my mind works these days. I am the tool, Creator is the artist.

So all this brings me back to why I was at this fund raiser. You see, as a delegate to the county convention, I received a newsletter from the county democrat party organization. In there, was an little note tucked away near the end that they had need of volunteer and office coordinators. I found myself coming back to that announcement repeatedly. My spiritual mantra, "Show up!", began pounding in my head whenever I thought of it. I was pretty sure that Creator was letting me know he'd like me to lend a hand. I very cautiously extended my feelers out into the world, inquiring via e-mail and phone about the expectations of the job. I had to do this a few times, quickly retracting into my shell, whenever it scared me too much. The pressure to "Show up!" kept building though, so I finally found myself meeting with the county democrat party chair person.

As I listened to her speak about what they needed, I was overwhelmed with a sense of envy and guilt. I envied that she could give so much of her time and energy to a cause/passion and guilt that I had not. I am not sure exactly how, if or when I actually agreed to take on the role of volunteer coordinator but apparently I did, because I started working on things we talked about and she began introducing me as the new volunteer coordinator. I am really terrified that I am in this position but that is what "Show up!" is all about. I am overwhelmed at my lack of basic knowledge of the political process, issues, personalities, etc. I haven't got a clue how to do this but I have to "Show up!"

So that's why I was at the fund raiser in my tie dyed tee shirt. I am the new volunteer coordinator for the county democrat organization. The tie dyed shirt was to make me a clear and easy target should anyone need to talk to me. "Oh, you want to volunteer! Well, you see that guy in the tie dyed tee shirt, he's the one you want to talk to." It turned out that no one sought me out.

Gail and I talked with a couple Dave and Jane (Porter, I believe), who provided us with a wealth of history regarding our new home, Whatcom county. I attempted to plant some seeds there for some future volunteer activities from them. They've been active in the past but are taking a sort of look and see posture as their candidate didn't make it to the semi-finals.

Then there was Polly Hanson, a beautiful septuagenarian, whose eyes radiated life and whose stories brought me extreme envy and admiration. Polly reminds me of Mom in some respects; she runs a bed and breakfast on Lummi Island. Gail has said that we have to go stay there!

We met some new folks eating at the table with us but due to the program were not able to talk much. Interestingly enough, I'd previously met two of our dinner companions, one at a democrat thing and the other at drumming/singing classes that I took at the Bellingham Unitarian Fellowship last month.

So this brings me round to the final topic of this blog. Governor Greqoire was the keynote speaker for the fund raiser. She walked by our table when she arrived. All around me people surged to their feet and began applauding. I sat there dumbfounded and very uncomfortable, asking myself "Why are we expected to pay homage to this person?" Throughout the remainder of the evening the audience burst into clapping or surged from their seats at all the pregnant pauses various politicians dangled before them. I sat there caught up in an internal dialog about why I was fighting against these social expectations.

On our way out from the dinner, we rode the elevator down with the woman who recently took over the reins of the Obama grassroots organization in the county and who has stepped up to be the Campaign Coordinating Committee chair. Among several things, I expressed some of what I was thinking and feeling about the behaviors of the crowd upstairs. When I said that I found it impossible to stand when the Governor came in and that it felt wrong to do so. She asked if I would stand if Obama entered the room. My answer was probably not. Her justification for the behavior was that it was a sign of respect for the person and what they had accomplished.

Now I know that showing respect and approval is ultimately the reason behind such displays as applause, and standing is a notch up on the respect meter. The problem for me is that I generally don't feel that respect and approval towards politicians or too many other people for that matter. The truth for me is that Governor Gregoire, Representative Larson, and the others who appeared at the dinner to schmooze, inspire, communicate, or what ever are virtually unknown to me. I do not know them as people. I do not know them as being worthy of my respect, approval, and especially my adoration.

It seems to me that there is a distinction between courtesy and respect that comes into play in all this. I like to think that I show courtesy to all people. Courtesy is the base behavior that I think we should exhibit to our fellow beings. Respect though seems to be something that is more reserved. It is something very personal, very powerful. It is given and yet must be earned. Given too lightly and respect loses its value, its meaning. Withholding where it is due is another problem.

Oddly, a few minutes talking with Polly and Maggie Hanson (one of the 5 honored democrats acknowledged at the fund raiser, don't know if she and Polly are related), convinced me that they were truly worthy of my respect even my adoration and that neither of them were in need of my approval. I am acutely uncomfortable with the notion that people who rise to positions of power and influence in our society should automatically be accorded respect. I have met a variety of people in the course of my life who have been in such positions for whom I have absolutely no respect.

Perhaps I should be able to see the "accomplishments" of such individuals as sufficient justification for respect but frankly with the spin doctors, media pundits and just your good old herd mentality arrayed out there to tell me what to think and do, I believe I am better off withholding my respect until I am personally able to feel it due to someone.

Gail told me that what I said to Sue Ellen, the Obama coordinator, was expressed in an attacking manner. As soon as Gail said that I knew that it was true in the sense that I was feeling defensive. The behavior of guests at the fund raiser was not the problem, they are after all entirely within their rights to demonstrate respect for anyone they wish. The problem is that I don't necessarily share their feelings and that their collective behavior brings forth the demons pressing me to conform to acceptable social behavior. So to Sue Ellen, an apology, and to myself an admonition to be less ready to express myself when my demons are running amok.

"arbeit macht frei"/"work makes (one) free"

Originally a novel title, "Arbeit macht frei", came to have much more sinister connotations after the Nazi's adopted it for their purposes and placed it above the entry gates of multiple concentration camps. It came to mind because I am struggling to understand and accept an idea which appears to be popular if not rampant in our society in general and more specifically the community which surrounds our developmentally disabled.

I want to make it clear from the outset that, I am coming at this issue as an outsider. I have not previously given this matter much thought, where as the people in the disabled community have very likely thought about it extensively. But for my own edification and as an invitation to others to put on their thinking caps, I'd like to ask why is there so much emphasis on work in American society. Further, why does the community supporting the developmentally disabled put so much emphasis on work?

Now, I have been a victim of the American work ethic for 40 plus years. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest afforded me with an early opportunity to become acquainted with work. Somewhere, in my early teens, I began working during harvest season picking strawberries, raspberries and beans. My first full time job was as a janitor at my high school the summer between my junior and senior years. My senior year of high school was the last period of my life in which I was not employed at least part time, save for time spent in school (a job of a different kind, and often including the aforementioned part time work), one extended 6 month period of unemployment in the mid 80's, and the odd month or so here and there, that followed being laid off, fired, or even quitting a job. All told, the total time I have not been working since high school can't be more than a couple of years; toss in another year to account for vacation time (probably too generous).

I also worked 25 years or so in high tech, as a computer geek of one kind or another. Conservatively, that means another 33% of my life was spent working overtime, so let's say, another 8 years of working time, to account for that. While I'm at it I might as well count the time I spent in school before college as a job, after all, it wasn't some thing I chose to do on my own, and it certainly is a form of work. So 12 years times three quarters of a year yields another 8 years. Adding it all up ... let's see ... 8 + 8 + 40(+) - 3 = 53 ... so 53 out of my 58 years seems to have been touched by work.

Alright, the numbers may not be entirely accurate, but I think it is clear that work in one form or another has consumed a huge portion of my existence. I acknowledge that others have it significantly worse than I have had it, but that is really kinda irrelevant to any point I want to make. Sleep is the only other activity that competes with work and I can pretty much assure you that it hasn't claimed nearly as much of my life as work.

So what is the point of talking about the role of work in my life. Simply this: I understand how it can come to dominate our thinking and how it can embed itself in our values systems.

We all know people whose whole definition of themselves appears to begin and end with their job. We are often those people. We all know of the stories of people who suddenly loose their job and with it their very identity and sometimes even will to live. These are the foundations of our social values and cultural myths about work. The American Puritan work ethic is a huge component of these foundations.

Like most social values and cultural myths they perpetuate themselves through the generations because they are revered and not subjected to any real critical examination.

I don't know if other people are really like me or not, but judging from the number of people that I've heard complain about their jobs over the course of my work life, there is a huge disconnect between the myths of work and the everyday reality of it. It seems to me that most people at best tolerate work as a survival requirement. I recognize that there are those odd few for whom work truly appears to be a pleasure.

For myself, work has been most often a life sucking activity that I have endured. This is not to say that I have not enjoyed moments of satisfaction, accomplishment, and occasionally success, in my work life. Some jobs have been significantly better than others. ALL, THOUGH, HAVE BEEN SOURCES OF STRESS; either because of the job or fear of losing the job or fear of not finding the job (Note: Ask your local unemployment office, finding a job is a job).

Given the above, it becomes extremely difficult for me to understand why the community surrounding the developmentally disabled are so enamored about placing their charges into the working world.

Yes, I understand that it can be a self-esteem booster, but that only make sense if one buys into the notion that one's worth is somehow predicated on work; a concept that I frankly abhor in a "normal" person and am unwonted to extend to anyone who already carries an extraordinary burden of challenges.

For those developmentally disabled who are cognizant of work in society, I can see that being able to participate in work can serve to diminish their alienation and sense of being different or apart.

The financial compensation that comes with work for the developmentally disabled seems unlikely to have a significant impact on their lives; though when many are living close to the margins of existence, any amount may actually be significant.

Ultimately, the question for me comes down to what purpose does work serve for the developmentally disabled. Is it something we impose upon them because every body SHOULD work? Do they just have to suffer along with the rest of us? Is it about them sharing the cost of their existence; making a contribution? In the final analysis, doesn't whether a developmentally disabled person works or not boil down to what is the best for that individual?

It is clear to me that there need to be safeguards, to prevent the exploitation of the developmentally disabled and insure their safety in the workplace, but that there should be no impediments to their inclusion in the workplace.

It is pointless to formulate one-size-fits-all policies, such as "Inclusion" or "Main Streaming" for the developmentally disabled when any rational person, who has even limited experience with the huge range of dysfunction and disability covered by the umbrella term "developmentally disabled", can see that many individuals will be needlessly harmed by such exposure. Predicating social/governmental/legal policy about work for the developmentally disabled on any thing other than individual need seems foolish to me.

Well, not nearly as cogent as I would like but I think I've touched on as many of the thoughts on this topic as I can remember having in the past couple weeks, since the topic came up for me. I'd really appreciate any feedback, thoughts, whatever that those of you who read this have on the topic. Maybe you'll discuss it with friends and get back to me with their thoughts.

Edify me!

Mitakuye Oyasin