everything else – every single thing else – can be sorted out.
because without democracy, none of that other, er, stuff will matter. at all. ever.
and so i am poised to vote for kamala and tim. i am poised to vote for a way forward. i am ready to do the work, carry the hope, feel the inspiration, rejuvenate the optimism of this country.
i do not want to be surrounded by ugly, by division, by anger, by revenge, by a candidate whose vulgarity is lacking any degree of maturity or reasonableness, who pushes vitriol and hatred.
i am ready to step into a future that holds firmly to the bedrock of this nation – its democracy.
i hope you have cut to the chase as well.
i mean, really, fellow americans – fellow voters – first things first.
8pm curfew and we can hear car horns and sirens blaring, smoke is in the air.
midnight and we hear gunshots, loud booms, sirens.
4:30am and the sirens continue. a storm arrives; the thunder adds to other unidentifiable sounds and is unnerving. we sit, awake.
early morning and the sun has risen to a stormy day. smoke fills our house from buildings, structures, vehicles burning in downtown and uptown kenosha. it is hard to breathe. but we are very much alive.
the town is shoring up the lakefront. the bedrock is crumbling. every time a storm comes, particularly from the north or northeast, the erosion is profound and feet are lost along the shore. enormous boulders are being brought in to nest next to the smaller granite boulders already in place, to protect lives and property. the theory is that these granite boulders will buffet the shoreline against the raging winds, the elements, the squalls, and the resulting rocks flung westward when those aggressive storms come.
the tempest of social injustice is railing. the coastline between white and black is hot and the fire of anger is raging. jacob blake, an african american man, who is right between the ages of My Girl and My Boy, was shot seven times in the back by a police officer on sunday. he is fighting for his life and the community is fighting to be heard.
what will tonight bring?
as the bedrock of this community crumbles we wonder what seawall will be built to protect all, to guard against inequity, to keep everyone safe from violence, to stop the injustice against black members of our community, our state, our country? what intelligent, articulate conversation will take place? what questions will be asked; what wisdom will be proffered? what compassion and generous action will be offered? how will we buffet against the rocks of hatred and bigotry flung by aggressive hostility? what will the boulders of change look like?
“the wise man built his house upon a rock, house upon a rock, house upon a rock. the wise man built his house upon a rock and the rains came tumbling down.
the rains came down and the floods came up. the rains came down and the floods came up. the rains came down and the floods came up and the house on the rock stood firm.
the foolish man built his house upon the sand, house upon the sand, house upon the sand. the foolish man built his house upon the sand and the rains came tumbling down.
the rains came down and the floods came up. the rains came down and the floods came up. the rains came down and the floods came up and the house on the sand went splat!”
we have some decisions to make. as a community, a state, a country. what will we do? will it be sand? again? or will it be rock?
reverse threading 