SATURDAY MORNING

By Debbie Bulloch


Today is January 31, the very last day of the first month of the year. Seems like only yesterday we were unwrapping Christmas gifts and welcoming the new year. Tempus fugit, indeed!

In 1972 (coincidentally the year that I was born) a group called Looking Glasswrote a song called Brandy You're A Fine Girl. unfortunately for the band, this turned out to be a one-hit wonder. After Brandy the band was not able to recreate their initial hit.

The song, however, lives on due to to the bittersweet tale it tells of unrequited love. It is a very pretty song and one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it too.

BRANDY YOU’RE A FINE GIRL

There's a port on a western bay
And it serves a hundred ships a day
Lonely sailors pass the time away
And talk about their homes

And there's a girl in this harbor town
And she works layin' whiskey down
They say "Brandy, fetch another round"
She serves them whiskey and wine

The sailors say "Brandy, you're a fine girl"
"What a good wife you would be"
"Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea"

Brandy wears a braided chain
Made of finest silver from the North of Spain
A locket that bears the name
Of the man that Brandy loves

He came on a summer's day
Bringin' gifts from far away
But he made it clear he couldn't stay
No harbor was his home

The sailor said " Brandy, you're a fine girl"
"What a good wife you would be"
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"

Yeah, Brandy used to watch his eyes
When he told his sailor stories
She could feel the ocean foam rise
She saw its ragin' glory
But he had always told the truth, lord, he was an honest man
And Brandy does her best to understand

At night when the bars close down
Brandy walks through a silent town
And loves a man who's not around
She still can hear him say

She hears him say " Brandy, you're a fine girl”
"What a good wife you would be"
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"

Through the magic of YouTube, you can still hear this song. This then, is one person's interpretation of Brandy You're a Fine Girl. (Note: the graphics and the video quality are not the best.)



I could not end this post without sharing with you some of the photographs that I took earlier this morning on a short hike by the ocean.

I used the same subject, but tried different exposures and different effects. Which one do you like best?



I personally like this one best.








It was a lovely morning hike. Thank you for coming along with me!

JOSE MARTI - CUBA'S APOSTLE

By SanPaul Held






















"No man has any special right because he belongs to any specific race; just by saying the word man, we have already said all the rights." José Martí

Tomorrow, January 28 marks the 156th birthday of José Martí. In his short life Marti was a poet, an essayist, a journalist, a revolutionary philosopher, a translator, a professor, a publisher, and a political theorist. Through his writings and political activity, he became a symbol for Cuba's bid for independence from Spain in the 19th century; for his work Martí is referred to as the "Apostle of Cuban Independence.”


From an early age Marti fought against Spanish oppression in Cuba. At the young age of 16 Marti was sentenced to hard labor in a Spanish prison for his political activities. At the prison, young Marti was forced to wear ankle chains. The chains left a scar on is leg that, like the scar on his poet’s soul, would never fully heal. Marti was eventually exiled to Spain. From Spain Marti traveled extensively, including trips to Paris, New York, Tampa Bay and Mexico City. During his many trips Marti worked tirelessly to raise awareness for the cause of Cuban independence.

Marti’s greatness lies in the humanity and universality of his body of work. Although Cuba’s independence was at the very core of Marti’s soul, his writings reveal an intense passion for freedom, justice and equality for ALL people; not just for Cubans.

It was through his writings, poetry, short stories and essays that Martí sought to reach out to all men. He was an inclusive figure who was the very embodiment of Lincoln’s message of “with malice towards none and justice towards all.” In one of his best known short poems, “Cultivo Una Rosa Blanca” (I Plant a White Rose) Marti expressed the idea that we must extend the hand of friendship even to those who treat us badly.

CULTIVO UNA ROSA BLANCA

Cultivo una rosa blanca
En julio como en enero,
Para el amigo sincero
Que me da su mano franca.
Y para el cruel que me arranca
El corazon con que vivo,
Cardo ni ortiga cultivo,
Cultivo una rosa blanca.

I PLANT A WHITE ROSE

I plant a white rose
In July as in January
For the sincere friend
Who gives me his hand in friendship.
And for the cruel one who tears out
the heart with which I live,
I plant neither nettles nor thorns:
I plant a white rose.

In those short, eight lines Martí taught us to love all, not just our friends but our enemies as well. If only people would listen to this simple message, and took it to heart, there were would be a lot less suffering in the world.

Marti saw children as the best hope for a better future. While in exile in New York, Marti published a children’s magazine, La Edad de Oro (The Golden Age). According to Marti, the intention behind the publication of La Edad de Oro was "so that American children may know how people used to live, and how they live nowadays, in America and in other countries; how many things are made, such as glass and iron, steam engines and suspension bridges and electric light; so that when a child sees a coloured stone he will know why the stone is coloured....We shall tell them about everything which is done in factories, where things happen which are stranger and more interesting than the magic in fairy stories. These things are real magic, more marvelous than any....We write for children because it is they who know how to love, because it is children who are the hope for the world.” As a child growing up in Cuba, I received a copy of La Edad de Oro for my seventh birthday. To this day I can still remember curling up in corner of our backyard and being totally fascinated by all the different stories that Marti wrote. One of the stories in La Edad de Oro was titled “Tres Heroes.” It told the story of the three heroes of South America’s battle for independence. I still remember reading about the extraordinary bravery of the three men, Bolivar, Hidalgo, and San Martín, responsible for South America’s freedom.



On April 1, 1895, Marti headed an expedition that sailed for Cuba. The expedition, was composed of several Cuban patriots living in exile, including Martí, Gómez, Ángel Guerra, Francisco Borreo, Cesar Salas and Marcos del Rosariocristi. They landed at Playitas, near Maisi Cape, Cuba, on April 11. Once there, they made contact with the Cuban rebels, who were headed by the Maceo brothers, and started fighting against Spanish troops. By May 13, the expedition reached Dos Rios. On May 19, Gomez faced Ximenez de Sandoval's troops and ordered Martí to stay rearguard, but Martí separated from the bulk of the Cuban forces, and entered the Spanish line.

José Martí was killed in battle against Spanish troops at the Battle of Dos Rios, near the confluence of the rivers Contramaestre and Cauto, on May 19, 1895. At the moment of his death, Martí was leading a charge against a Spanish position. This was around midday and Marti was, as always, dressed in a black jacket, riding a white horse, which made him an easy target for the Spanish soldiers.

Martí’s “Versos Sencillos” (Simple Verses) foreshadowed Martí’s death:

“No me entierren en lo oscuro/A morir como un traidor/Yo soy bueno y como bueno/Moriré de cara al sol." ("Do not bury me in darkness / to die like a traitor / I am good, and as a good man / I will die facing the sun.")

José Martí's life-long dedication to the cause of Cuban independence and his passionate belief in democracy and justice have made him a hero not just to Cubans, but to all freedom-loving persons throughout the entire world. Cubans living in exile, like myself and my family, honor Martí as a figure of hope for the Cuban nation in exile. We see in Martí a bright and shiny beacon for the still unfulfilled promise of a free and democratic Cuba.

Please join me in honoring the life and work of a man born and raised in a small island whose dedication to the ideals of universal justice made him a citizen of the entire world.

¡Viva el Apostol de la Patria!

Here is a video salute to José Martí. It helps if you know Spanish.



The words of one of José Martí’s poems, “Yo Soy Un Hombre Sincero” (I Am a Sincere Man) served as the inspiration for the now world famous song “Guantanamera.”

Here is a version by the BuenaVista Social Club.



Here is another version of Guantanamera by Celia Cruz, one of Cuba’s most popular singers. No Spanish needed, just be prepared to move.



NOTE: I wish to thank my dear friend Debbie Bulloch, for giving me the opportunity to write about José Martí.She knows full well how much it means to me to be able to write about this great man of peace, who was forced to go to battle to fight for the independence for the land that he and I love so much. Gracias.

¡Viva Cuba Libre!

YOU ASKED FOR IT, WE DELIVER...

For the anonymous person (I think I know who you are) who requested Kodachrome, here it is. I wonder what kind of song Paul Simon would write in this new era of digital cameras, perhaps SanDisk, or maybe Lexar?

Anyway, here it is, Kodachrome:



Enjoy!

GUNG HAY FAT CHOY!

By Debbie Bulloch





















Happy New Lunar Year!



This is the year of the Ox.



If you were born under the sign of the Ox you are:

The Ox is the sign of prosperity through fortitude and hard work. This powerful sign is a born leader, being quite dependable and possessing an innate ability to achieve great things. As one might guess, such people are dependable, calm, and modest. Like their animal namesake, the Ox is unswervingly patient, tireless in their work, and capable of enduring any amount of hardship without complaint.

Ox people need peace and quiet to work through their ideas, and when they have set their mind on something it is hard for them to be convinced otherwise. An Ox person has a very logical mind and is extremely systematic in whatever they do, though they have a tremendous imagination and an unparalleled appreciation for beauty. These people speak little but are extremely intelligent. When necessary, they are articulate and eloquent.

People born under the influence of the Ox are kind, caring souls, logical, positive, filled with common sense and with their feet firmly planted on the ground. Security is their main preoccupation in life, and they are prepared to toil long and hard in order to provide a warm, comfortable and stable nest for themselves and their families. Strong-minded, stubborn, individualistic, the majority are highly intelligent individuals who don't take kindly to being told what to do.

The Ox works hard, patiently, and methodically, with original intelligence and reflective thought. These people enjoy helping others. Behind this tenacious, laboring, and self-sacrificing exterior lies an active mind.

The Ox is not extravagant, and the thought of living off credit cards or being in debt makes them nervous. The possibility of taking a serious risk could cause the Ox sleepless nights.

Ox people are truthful and sincere, and the idea of wheeling and dealing in a competitive world is distasteful to them. They are rarely driven by the prospect of financial gain. These people are always welcome because of their coolness and awesomeness. They are reputed to be the most beautiful of face in the zodiac. They have many friends, who appreciate the fact that the Ox people are wary of new trends, although every now and then they can be encouraged to try something new. People born in the year of the Ox make wonderful parents and teachers of children.

It is important to remember that the Ox people are sociable and relaxed when they feel secure, but occasionally a dark cloud looms over such people and they engage all the trials of the whole world and seek solutions for them.

(From the Wikipedia).

So go and enjoy!

MONDAY MORNING RAMBLINGS...

By Debbie Bulloch





Lately I seem to be in a Simon and Garfunkel “mood.” I have always loved the simple beauty of their lyrics but lately I have been going back, more often than usual, to their music to find comfort in these troubled times. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel know how to weave words into a tapestry of sounds and melodies that surrounds me and soothes my soul.






Two of their songs, in particular, have been running through my head. One of the songs is Homeward Bound.

I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me…

One of the interesting things about Second Life is how it has become “home” for so many of us. At least for me, SL has become more than a second life - it has become a second home where I come at the end of a busy day to spend time with dear friends.

Initially, it did not start out this way. I signed on to SL because I was eager to find out what all the talk was about. With no previous experience in an online role playing situation I had no idea, no clue really, what to expect. Very quickly I became "hooked" to Second Life. And just as quickly as I became attached to my so-called second life I also became quickly, and deeply, attached to people and things in SL.

That is the reason why the other day, while listening to Homeward Bound, I was not surprised to realize that for me the lyrics in Simon and Garfunkel song had come to refer not to an actual, physical place. Instead, as the song played on, the lyrics kept pulling me here, to SL.

Ev'ry day's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And ev'ry stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound,

I don’t smoke cigarettes (never have, I am too cheap to burn my money away) and I don’t travel from town to town. But lately, whenever I look at strangers’ faces I am reminded of how much I long to return to SL, to be with my online friends and to visit the places that are now so familiar to me.

Have I really now gone too far down the rabbit’s hole? Have I forfeited my real life for life here, in SL? Time will only tell.

The other Simon and Garfunkel that I have been listening to quite a bit lately is I Am a Rock.

A winter’s day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
I’ve built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
Its laughter and its loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Second Life has now become one of most widely used Internet social networks. The reasons are easy to see. Unlike other Internet social networks, SL provides a rich graphical interface and, through the ability to shape our own unique on-line experience, we can transcend the limitations of text-only social networks.

The ability to create an avi that can be seen and touched by others has its own perils, however. Our in-world selves, our avis, are subject to the same range of human emotions, including heartbreak and loneliness, that our RL selves are subject to. As we live our in-world lives, our brains may tell us that we are mere pixels on a computer monitor. Our hearts, however, often disregard the signals coming from the brain and plunge headlong into the heights (and lows) of love.

What can we do to protect ourselves? Do we even want to protect ourselves? I don’t know - I don’t have the answers. Building walls around ourselves, or hiding behind a computer screen, may provide temporary protection. In the long run, however, we cannot hide forever behind the comfort provided by our SL avis. So what is the answer? Heck if I know!

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

Here, for your visual and listening pleasure, are Simon and Garfunkel’s Homeward Bound and I Am a Rock – I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Homeward Bound (from the historic 1967 Monterey, California concert)



I Am a Rock (I can't believe these guys were once so young and cute!)



One final note: Sunday was my best friend’s birthday. She has been my spiritual counselor, my sounding board, my advisor, my home’s designer and builder and my homeless shelter chief builder (the only builder really). She has listened to me when I was happy, flying as high as a kite and she has listened to me when I was so far down the dumps that bottom looked like “up.” We don’t always see eye to eye on everything; in fact on many issues we will NEVER see eye to eye. I call her a Dutch Bolshevik and she fires right back and calls me a spoiled America princess. I call her crazy and she calls me nuts. I call her my best friend in SL and she smiles, and tells me that I am her best friend too.

I call her love, I call her wise, and I call her kind and generous. I call her Yucca!

Happy belated birthday my dear friend!

MUSICAL SELECTIONS FOR A SUNDAY AFTERNOON

By Debbie Bulloch



Here are some musical selections, for a lazy Sunday afternnon.















First, for all Australians in Second Life (and for all the Australians that now call California home). Happy Australia Day Mate!

Waltzing Matilda



Blue Oyster Cult - Don't Fear the Reaper (live version)



Simon and Garfunkel - A Hazy Shade of Winter



Compare the Simon and Garfunkel version to a later cover by The Bangles (try to figure out which line The Bangles omitted from their version)



Sugarloaf - Green Eyed Lady - the video clip is not the best :-(



Naked Eyes - Always Something There to Remind Me (one of my faves)



And, finally, something to dance to. Take off your shoes, put your hair up, kick up your heels and move to some classic Cuban music. It helps if you hold a shot glass of Havana Club rum in one hand and a fine Cuban cigar in the other.

Buena Vista Social Club - El Cuarto de Tula (This song is slighty naughty, Tula is one hot Cuban girl. She can set a room on fire by just walking in!)



Enjoy!

OF TALKING SEAGULLS, DOLPHINS, CLOUDS AND POINT MUGU

By Debbie Bulloch


Recently I have been feeling a little blue. This morning, at the suggestion of a certain Canadian moose I got out of the house and took a drive. (I bet you didn't know that moose could talk, eh? Well, this is a very smart and wise moose and he talks to me all the time. Not only does he talk to me, he actually makes sense - most of the time anyway.)

So I decided to listen to the moose - I jumped into my car, lowered all the windows, opened the sunroof, turned the stereo full blast and headed out for my favorite spot on the Pacific Coast Highway. As the miles rolled past the car's odometer and I got closer to to the beautiful Pacific Ocean I began to feel my spirits lift and my blue funk began to slowly fade away.

I parked by a rocky outpost called Point Mugu and I stared out the car window, taking in the feel of the fresh, crisp air. There is something magical about the feel of waves rolling in and crashing against the shoreline. It is like the soothing sound of a mother's lullaby calming a restless baby.

I got out of the car and I was immediately greeted by the cries of seagulls flying overhead. I looked up and one of the seagulls looked down at me and I swear the winged rascal winked at me, almost as if saying: "Welcome to our playground."

I did the only logical thing, I winked back at the seagull and told him, "Thanks for the welcome!" Then I quickly looked around to make sure that no one else had actually seen me talking to the seagull. As much as California is often referred to as the land of nuts and fruits, even here talking to seagulls can get you a one-way ticket to the local mental hospital.

After that little bird-talking incident, I grabbed my trusty Canon and snapped a few pictures to share with you. I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as I enjoyed taking them.

When I first parked my car, the clouds hung low over the mountains that border the coast line.



Then the clouds turned really dark and ominous.



Slowly, however, the skies turned lighter.



This spot has been featured in many television commercials and movies. In fact, Jay Leno was filming "something." I saw him driving a small, blue Cobra sports car.



The something really nice happened - a school of dolphins showed up. To ancient sailors dolphins meant good luck (because land was near). Dolphins always manage to bring a smile to my face.



Finally, my friend the talking seagull.



I am sure glad that I listened to the talking moose and got out for a drive to the coast.

HOMELESS IN THE NEWS

By Debbie Bulloch


Should We Give Money To Panhandlers?

I am often asked whether it is a good idea to give money to panhandlers (who are usually homeless) out on the streets.

My answer usually is: well, it depends.

Whether to give money to the homeless out on the streets or to simply look the other way and walk on by is a highly personal decision. Regardless of what you do, let compassion and understanding be your guide.

Here is a very interesting piece from Slate.com on this particular topic.

Sister, Can You Spare a Dime?
I don't give to my neighborhood panhandlers. Should I?
By Patty Stonesifer and Sandy Stonesifer
Updated Friday, Jan. 23, 2009, at 7:03 AM ET

Dear Patty and Sandy,

Every day I pass at least a half-dozen homeless people on my way to work. I feel terrible for them, worse when they ask me for money, and worse still when I turn up my iPod and walk away. I struggle every day with whether to give them some coins or a buck but don't want them to get used to me giving them money, and I don't want them to spend it on drugs or alcohol. It's not that I can't afford it, but I don't want to become an enabler. Your advice?

For the entire article, please follow the link below:

http://www.slate.com/id/2209038/?GT1=38001

Homeless Living In Their Cars Need a Safe and Secure Place To Park Overnight.

With the increase in the number of people losing their jobs and their homes, the newly homeless have taken to livin in motor homes, trailers and even in their cars (not an easy life, trust me).

In Venice, California local residents have been complaining about homeless people parking their vehicles overnight, on city streets. While I can understand the position of local residents, we need to act more compassionately towards our brothers and sisters. Local government is getting into the act, trying to find a humane solution to this "problem."

From the Los Angeles Times.

L.A. Councilman Bill Rosendahl says the sites could be city property, church parking lots, industrial areas and other places away from neighborhoods.

By Phil Willon and Martha Groves
January 22, 2009

Tough economic times have spilled onto the streets of Venice, which has become a favorite place to park for scores of otherwise homeless people living in cars and campers. The practice has ignited a mini-uprising among residents living in the pricey coastal community.

The number of cars and recreational vehicles has swelled so much over the last year that Councilman Bill Rosendahl, who represents the city's coastal areas, has proposed creating special zones away from neighborhoods where people can sleep in their vehicles.

"The community has been going ballistic," Rosendahl said. "They can't park their own cars. Some of the folks who live in their cars and in campers defecate and urinate outside and create other issues of quality of life and health."

His proposal, similar to programs in Santa Barbara and Eugene, Ore., would allow the cars and recreational vehicles to park in select "municipal properties, parking lots of churches or community-based organizations, industrial areas and other areas that would have minimal impact on residential communities."

Current city laws prohibit sleeping in a car or RV on the street.

For the full article, please follow the link below.

http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/california/la-me-rvzones22-2009jan22,0,7892116.story

Copyright Spencer Weiner/L.A. Times

I want to encourage all of you, to call or e-mail the appropriate authorities and let them know that you support special zones for the homeless to park their vehicles overnight. Thank you!

A GOOD DAY TO BE AN AMERICAN

By Debbie Bulloch

Today is an especially good day to be an American. With the inauguration of Barack Obama as the country’s 44th President we as a nation, have finally collected on that promise made long ago - that all men are created equal. If a black American can be elected President, then the doors are wide-open for any person, regardless of gender or race, to also become President of this country. If there was ever any doubt that America is the land of opportunity, then Obama’s election to the highest office in the land should silence the doubters.

I wanted to stay home today to watch the inauguration ceremonies, and especially to watch Obama deliver his inaugural speech. But I had meetings to attend to at work, so off to work I went. As I drove to my office I wondered what kind of mood my co-workers would be in. Well, I did not have to wonder for long. As soon as I walked through the front door I was approached by a co-worker who gave me a huge hug and said, in a voice I had not heard her use in a very long time, “Oh Debbie I am so happy today!”

I hugged her back and I told her how we were all happy for our new President and for our country.

Then she added, “Debbie, when my mom was a little girl she had to ride on the back of the bus. She used to tell me that some day we would have a black President, but I just never believed that I would ever see the day.”

Then with tears in her eyes she added, “I only wish mom had lived to see this day.”

The rest of my co-workers were equally excited about today’s events. It was as if, at least temporarily, a new wave of optimism had swept through the office.

Obama’s election has infused the country with a sense of hope – the country is on the grips of a new “can do” attitude. This is exactly the kind of “medicine” that we need at this time.

The U.S. is not a perfect country – far from it. Prejudice still abounds, people still go hungry, there are still homeless people sleeping on the streets of our biggest and richest cities and we are still involved in foreign entanglements of dubious nature. Even in the midst of massive problems, however, we are still optimistic about our future as a people and as a nation – that is because we are not afraid to confront the worst in us and work on fixing it.

Our generosity defines us as a nation and gives us the strength to keep moving forward. Our detractors (they are legion) like to minimize America’s generosity and, instead, accuse us of having ulterior motives. In response, I ask them to look at the many examples of American generosity and our capacity to make sacrifices for others.

In the darkest days of World War II, when all hope seemed to have been lost, America sent war material, food and supplies to assist our European brothers and sisters resist the advances of Nazi Germany. When that was not enough, and Europe seemed lost to a madman hell-bent on imposing his will on the rest of the world, America looked inward at its best resource, its people, and without hesitation or pre-conditions we sent our young men to fight and die in foreign soil so that one man would not enslave the rest of the world.

When natural disasters devastate other parts of the world, America digs deep into its pocket to help ease the suffering. Time and time again, after every major natural disaster, America’s planes have flown to the crisis area to deliver much needed relief.

Just recently, the often-demonized President Bush was credited with orchestrating the single, biggest assistance package to help end the scourge of AIDS in the African continent. American have not allowed our own precarious financial situation to get on the way of assistance to our African brothers and sisters.

And now we have elected, for the first time in our nation’s history, a black American to lead us during these troubling times. I look around at the rest of the world and we are the only industrialized nation to elect a President who is only one generation removed from a dusty village in a Third World country. That alone, is enough reason to put a smile on my face.

Regardless of the kind of President that Obama may eventually turn out to be, today I am proud to be an American. We have turned an important corner in our nation’s quest to fulfill the promises of its birth.

Today is indeed a good day to be an American!

MUSINGS ON A DAY OFF FROM WORK

By Debbie Bulloch


(NOTE: I will soon finish the post LOOKING INTO A MIRROR. I need to speak to the young woman and get her permission to go on with her story. Please stay tuned.)

In the meantime...

Today is a work holiday in the USA. We celebrate the birth of civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. If case you have lived in the planet Mars for the last 50 years and have just returned to Earth, Dr. King was the most important leader of the American civil rights movements - he was also a black man. Dr.King led a famous boycott in Selma, Alabama to fight against laws that forced black people to sit on the back of the autobus. Dr. King was also a devoted follower of Ghandi's peaceful civil disobedience methods. Finally, in 1963 Dr. King delivered the now famous speech "I Have A Dream" speech. Dr. King was assasinated on April 4, 1968.

Here are portions of Dr. King's I Have a Dream speech:

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."

...

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:

Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

Tomorrow, almost 40 years to the date when Dr. King was assassinated, we will celebrate the inauguration of our new President, Barack Obama, the nation's first African-American President.

I do not know whether Obama will be a great President.

I hope that he will.

I do not know whether Obama will help solve the many problems that now plague my country.

I think that he will.

I do not know whether Obama will lead this great nation that I call home back to its rightful place in the family of man.

I pray that he will.

Regardless of what happens during his administration, this is a good time to be an American - a great time to be proud to be an American. In Obama's election America has shown the world that:

America is a nation of laws and not of men. We have changed government, and not a single gunshot has been fired in the streets of America; not a single drop of blood has been spilled.

We have shown the people of the world that for all of our faults (and yes, we have many of them) we are still the land of opportunity. Just a little over one hundred years black American were slaves. By law, during the era of slavery, blacks were not even considered to be human; they were legally property, to be sold and bought at the will of their masters.

Today, we are less than 24 hous away from swearing-in the nation's first black President. A nation where blacks were once slaves, will soon have its first black President It was not easy getting to this point - but we are here now!

I am always proud to be an American - but today and tomorrow I will be even prouder. I am proud to live in a country where the birth of a black man is celebrated as a national holiday and I am proud to live in a country that looked past race and color and elected its first black President.

I ask all my friends from all corners of the world to join me in this moment of celebration - please share in my joy to be an American. Be happy for me, be happy for the world. Thank you.

Monday morning, January 19, 2009.

This morning the day woke up overcast and cold (well, cold for Southern California standards). I had a late breakfast this morning - I am feeling very, very lazy, I am surprised that I even have enough energy to write this post. As I walked upstairs back to my bedroom I saw these trees, right outside my upstairs windows.



The sight of the trees, framed against a grey sky, reminded me of one of my all-time favoritie Simon and Garfunkle songs:

A Hazy Shade of Winter

Time, time, time, see whats become of me
While I looked around
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please
But look around, leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Hear the salvation army band
Down by the riverside, its bound to be a better ride
Than what youve got planned
Carry your cup in your hand
And look around, leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Hang on to your hopes, my friend
Thats an easy thing to say, but if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend
That you can build them again
Look around, the grass is high
The fields are ripe, its the springtime of my life

Ahhh, seasons change with the scenery
Weaving time in a tapestry
Wont you stop and remember me
At any convenient time
Funny how my memory slips while looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme
Drinking my vodka and lime

But look around, leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Look around, leaves are brown
Theres a patch of snow on the ground...

Hang on to your hopes my friends - never let go of your hopes and dreams. It will soon be a better day for you, for me, for all of us.

Peace!

LOOKING INTO A MIRROR - PART ONE

By Debbie Bulloch



It is already the 11th day of the New Year. Christmas decorations have been put away, the Christmas tree is down, and all the New Year’s Day champagne is gone. I already miss the Christmas holidays: the bright lights, the pretty decorations and all those wonderful smells.

Anyway, a whole full 11 days have passed since the beginning of 2009 and I have not written a new blog post. I feel like such a lazy bum!

In my own defense, I have been very busy both at home and at work. As a further excuse, I am suffering from a bad (OK, maybe just a mild) case of sinus infection. My head feels as if it is about to explode and the pressure above my eyes makes me feel like my head is being squeezed by a big old wooden vise – you know, like the kind the Spanish Inquisition used in order to persuade people to “confess.” Alright, maybe I am exaggerating just a tad, but I do feel crummy (isn’t it nice, I am hosting my own sympathy party).

Before I go on, however, I wish to thank everyone who made my birthday such a nice, memorable day. It is not always easy being a New Year’s Day baby – everyone is too tired or too busy to remember your birthday. But this year I was overwhelmed with all the good wishes from SL and RL friends. Thank you all for making my birthday such a memorable one. Also, a belated thank you goes to my beloved USC Trojans for yet another victory at the Rose Bowl. When will all those other teams finally realize that the Rose Bowl is USC’s home? GO TROJANS!

Well, back to the business at hand – to finally write the first blog post of the year. On Tuesday I finally broke down and decided to go and see my doctor. After listening to my lungs and heart (gad I hate that cold stethoscope) my doctor confirmed what I already knew: I am suffering from a sinus infection. So the doctor wrote out a prescription for antibiotics and sent me off on my merry way.

As I walked out on the parking lot I noticed a young woman standing about 10 meters away from my car. Something about the way she looked and the way she dressed told me that did not belong there. Instantly, my radar went on overdrive and I could hear all sorts of alarm bells going off.

The parking lot was deserted, except for the young woman and me. Although she did not look like the type who would try to harm me common sense and experience warned me to be prepared, just in case the young woman was planning to do “something.” As I walked towards my car, she began to walk directly towards me – clearly intending to intercept my path. Great, I thought to myself, now I am going to have to deal with this person. I am not an unfriendly person but I have learned, from painful personal experience, that casual street encounters with strangers, even one as young and harmless as she appeared to be, always have the potential for ending badly.

As she walked closer to me I did what experience and my friends at the police department have taught me to do, I made direct eye contact with the young woman. My gaze seemed to have caught her by surprise, as if she did not expect me to look straight at her. She stopped and looked down on the floor.

That is when something odd happened. I looked into her eyes I noticed that she seemed to be as wary of me as I was of her. Then I noticed something even more surprising – looking into the girl’s soft green eyes was like staring into a mirror and seeing a reflection of me twenty years ago. Slowly I let down my guard and half-smiled at the girl. Then I spoke to her:

“Good morning,” I said to her, “may I help you?”

My words took her by surprise. She shook her head, turned on her heels and began to walk away from me.

“Wait, please stop” I pled with her. “I was just wondering if I could help you with something.”

She turned around and I could see that her clothing, while clean, were old and out of fashion. It was a fairly chilly morning (for Southern California standards) and the girl was wearing just a simple cotton dress which obviously did not manage to keep her warm.

“Come on, I can tell that you were about to ask me something, don’t stop, I won’t bite” I said to her trying my level best to appear friendly and open.

“OK,” she replied, “can I have a couple of bucks?”

Great, I guess my instincts were wrong and the girl was probably just another druggie trying to score some money for her next drug buy. Now I was upset with myself for letting my guard down.

“What do you want the money for, to buy drugs?” I asked her in a harsh tone.

She looked up from the floor and her green eyes locked on mine. Her answer struck straight at my heart.

“I am not a user, I am just very hungry.”

I was still not convinced, so I cross-examined her further.

“Are you really hungry, or are you just giving me some BS?” I said to her. “I have heard just about every line of BS and I am not a fool.”

The girl looked at me and in her eyes I could see a mixture of sadness and anger.

“Look lady, if you don’t want to help me, fine, keep your money. Just don’t accuse of me being a liar. I am really hungry.”

It is a sad commentary that in the USA, the richest country in the history of the world and in California, one of the richest states in the entire country, there should still be people who are hungry. I have previously posted here regarding the number of homeless and hungry people living in Southern California - the world’s Entertainment Capital. As the worldwide economy worsens, the number of homeless and hungry people will continue to increase. Which leaves us with this question: what are we going to do, as a society and as individuals, to end the suffering of the hungry and the homeless?

Think about it and then do something about it...please.

I looked at her and I said. “Look, if you are really hungry let’s go and get some breakfast, I just came out of the doctor and have not had breakfast and I am…”

I was about to say that I was starved, but that would have been cruelly ironic. So Instead I told her that I too could use a bite to eat.

“Do you have a car to follow me?” I asked her.

“Lady, I don’t have enough money to feed myself, how could I afford a car?”

“Well, there is a little breakfast place not too far from here, we could drive in together and we can get a bite to eat.” She looked like she did not trust me, as if she was afraid that if she got in my car I was going to take her to the nearest police station. I could read the doubt on her eyes. I opened my purse, took out my wallet and showed her pictures of my daughter.

“Look, I have a daughter about your age. I am a mom; I am not going to hurt you.” Then I added. “Plus I know what you are going through.”

She looked at me in disbelief.

“You know what is like to be like me, hungry?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, but we can talk about that later.” Smiling, I then added. “I could give you the money if you want it, and you can get your own food, but I could really use someone to talk to. So how about it, will you come with me?”

She finally seemed convinced and sop she followed me to my car. We both got in and then drove off to the restaurant. During the five minute drive from my doctor’s office to the restaurant the young woman did not speak a word. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her staring out the window, like a little kid going on her first car trip.

When we got to the restaurant she smiled, for the first time since we first met, and said to me, “Hey, I know this place, my parents used to bring me here.”

“So you are a local girl?” I asked.

“Well, I was born in this area,” she answered, “…then my parents got divorced and mom and my brother and I went to live in Florida. But I like it better here, so I moved back a while ago.”

The girl’s tale of divorcing parents and family displacement sounded all too familiar to me.


Next: Part Two - A Girl Just Like Me