The New Hope

Life is sometimes like a bowl of cherries...other times it's like a chair of bowlies....know what I mean?
Upside down, backwards and inside out....it arrives at the doorstep some mornings like a disheveled newspaper thrown hap-hazard under a bush, then peed on by the neighbor's dog. 

Hey, I'm not complaining, we all gotta pee, it's just why all over a defenseless newspaper? What did it ever do? Oh, I get it...the old kill the messenger routine.

Sometimes I do feel like turning off the news and pretending I'm not part of the planet. Between the wars, oil spills, political postulating and commercials there's very little alternate content for those who've had all they can take for a while.

Maybe there should be a new cable or satelite t.v. network for folks like me-the PTSD station. No lie, it might just be what the head doctor ordered!  24/7 programmable Prozac.  Maybe that's what a lot of the reality shows are all about. Some folks get so wrapped up in it to the point where there is nothing else to life but watching others live it.  But hey, each to their own.

I'm no guru on a mountain spewing forth with any new wisdom here...even Helen Keller would be able to see that things aren't sitting right with our world. Pundits from every crack in the woodwork are weighing in on how awful everything is, who's to blame and how-as soon as they take power-things are gonna change.

One of my favorite songs sums that all up nicely for me-"Meet the new boss, same as the old boss..."
At the same time, I don't want to be apathetic.  The pendulum does swing, after all...problem is, I'm not too thrilled about the direction it seems to be heading.

The word "liberal" is said with extra vehemence these days...all of the nations' problems are blamed on "progressive" thinkers, and we're told to fall to our knees quickly...to repent of our evil thoughts before it's too late. The pending elections will be telling a story of disenchantment and disappointment.  Many incumbents will not be returning to their seats....according to the folks on t.v. news.

So with all this whirlwind going on, what could Fifty Five possibly mean to me?
I think we need to walk carefully, think clearly, not give away elections and think it's all going to blow over.  Not this time....there's a different feeling to the political spin, it not only has fangs-it now has venom too. We need to guard our hard-won freedoms and be responsive when those less fortunate than ourselves are made into scapegoats.

These times are some of the hardest yet, as much for the physical and financial difficulties, as it is for the internal stuff. Our spirits need to find light through the clouds of confusion and find hope. Real hope, not hype.

So for today, Fifty Five is the New Hope...because we sure need it!

Retiring Age

A month since my birthday....where is fifty five leading me right now? 

A little too soon to tell in some ways....the whole thing is still so new.  What I am realizing is that there's a different expectation level once one reaches this age.  Folks think your supposed to be mature and making sure retirement plans are in order.  That's what they tell me on television.

And they're right.  And I do wonder what will happen to me as I age....physically not so much-I've already got arthritis figured out and my teeth  are already rotting so I'm at least doing something right. But as for retirement plans, I never thought about it.  Not that I never thought about my needs for the future, I just never thought of stopping my work.  Why should I?

There's still so much left to do!

Of course I'm not being paid to do any of it, so stopping or not doesn't effect my wallet.  But it would effect my mental stability.  I'll just keep busy 'til I drop....much better for sanity.

So for today, Fifty Five Is The New Retiring Age....not yet! I'm way too young for that!

Movement

Have you ever been asleep then woken up suddenly?  You check around for signs of an earthquake, a break-in, a fart or other loud noise....then you're awake all night, wondering why? 
Well, don't consider it a problem...use the time! You'll be surprised at how much you get done, or how soon you fall back to sleep.

I delight in those opportunities to be creative while the world around me sleeps....and am grateful for insomnia. When everything is quiet, songs of the muse can be heard.

Last night, sleep decided to pull the plug. I awoke suddenly, looked around for evidence of anything, then got out of bed and into my head.  It was a good journey; flipping back through the years old, flickering movies...at first they went by fast, then slowing to 1997 and 1444 Market Street....Peron's place.

Echoes of everything....laughing faces, music, marching, the sound as hundreds of patients made their way up the stairs and elevator, meeting friends and new friends on the third or fourth floor, being able to medicate and feel better-at the same time sensing everything as electrified with knowledge that the feds could raid us at any time-and that we were prepared for that eventuality...Dennis and John at the helm, their staff of 115 or so patients making it all run like a fine-tuned Swiss watch....the crazy times too....the not-so-undercover federal agent cars parked across the street filming and watching everything we did, and us pulling faces at them through the windows in Dennis' office....those were the days!

Back then we understood that our use of medical cannabis was more than a decision to use an alternate form of medicine, it was a revolutionary act-no less critical than Rosa Parks on the bus or marching across that bridge into Selma.

A few things have changed since then....Prop 215 has been upheld, other state and local laws have been implemented to shore it up and more states are adopting similar policies...but we've lost something in the translation, something we need to rekindle; the revolutionary spirit.

We're not out of the woods yet; far from it! The political tide is spinning like a whirly-gig!  What was once considered open minded is now considered un-American.  It's like some people want to turn back the hands of time to a simpler era; complete with Donna Reed's string of pearls and dress.

It's frightening when one thinks of the possibilities.  Read "The Handmaid's Tale."

No matter what, you can't grow virginity back and a surgical implant isn't the same thing.
We have to insure that our tomorrow IS tomorrow, not yesterday...and that means keeping our sleeves rolled up, staying in the trenches and fighting; even if we're tired.

So for today, Fifty five is the New Movement, in honor of what the Cannabis Buyer's Club stood for in the bigger picture sense-The Revolution continues.  Back to Work!

Rules of Engagement

A medical cannabis facility was firebombed in Billings, Montana. I was beginning to wonder when the incendiary device fans were going to weigh in on the matter.
I mean, we haven't heard about any abortion clinic pyrotechnics as of late and one might have thought the entire explosion oriented protest genre  had gone out of style...except for the jihadists, of course.
They are a special breed, unto themselves...part religious fanatic, part political pawn....hmmm....then again....

What makes people want to do that?  I understand passion; to a certain extent passion is an excellent motivator and means of expression. BUT! Shouldn't there be a line somewhere? Acts like this are completely outside the realm of common decency.

According to the news story, there was a message left at the scene.
Simply put, it said "Not In MY Town!"  Oh yes....and Ka-BOOOOOOOM!

Now I'm sure they weren't trying to infer that they owned the entire town....then again.....maybe they were. Some folks get weird when it comes to certain things.

There's something called "a sense of place." This sense also gets taken well beyond the norm by some people.  They move in to a town, or a building or a house or a job or a family and immediately start taking over; at first with subtle hints about what they like and what makes them comfortable-remembering to ask your opinion, for decency's sake. 

But after a while, the gloves come off and the tentacles fly out...grabbing and sucking and marking and claiming everything that isn't nailed down.  No, I take that back....they claimed the nails and what's underneath too.

I didn't know Billings, Montana operated like that.  Big sky country, eh?

Well, I know one other thing about Billings, Montana.  It is part of America, and firebombing is against the law. Just because people don't agree with one another doesn't mean they have the right to use explosive weapons on one another.  That's just plain ridiculous! 

They sound more like al Quada than Americans. 

Mind you, I didn't like what the Weathermen did during the Vietnam protests, either....so I'm not calling things by a double standard.

Anyway, for today Fifty Five is the New Rules of Engagement....because we need some, because enough is enough.

New Generation

Here's a picture of us (Jack and I a/k/a Boo Boo's Bargain Basement Band) filming and recording our song "Higher Ground" on 4/20/2010.  We wanted to have the whole thing done that day, released in time for 4/20, but life is life and it didn't work out that way.  However, we will be releasing it soon!
And, we are also putting the finishing touches (finally) on our "How Far Do You Wanna Go" video...so things are moving forward.

The green background is part of our home made studio and is used for the process of chroma key photography or "green screen" photography.  We use it in our videos. It's not too difficult, once you get the hang of it...but it sure took a lot of intense learning to get it. Looking back, through the swearing, tears, learning a new operating system (Mac-I've been a p.c. user mainly but I guess now I'm both)
computer crashes, messed up files and all the rest...it was worth it.

Goes to show what a person can do, no matter what their age.  My Aunt Virginia graduated college when she was in her late fifties (I think), and has always been an inspiration.  She passed about ten years ago, after living a full life.

Virginia was a lot like me...black sheep of the family with a fondness for Billie Holiday and adventures.
Aunt Virg's choice of husband was in direct violation of her father's wishes....and his wishes ran very deep. He wished Virginia to marry "her own kind."  Translation: Irish Catholic.  The man couldn't stand certain cultures, Italian being his chief pet peeve.

Blacks didn't seem to bother him too much, maybe because he had worked with them in the mines...so long as his daughters didn't marry one.  His words, not mine. But anything that remotely hinted at being Italian would be on the receiving end of a tirade of Biblical proportions.
The man couldn't even stand to look at pizza.

Isn't that odd sounding in this day and age? But only 40 years ago, those attitudes were still common.
We've come a long way, thank God, but there's still a long way to go.

Prejudices seep into our lives like water on a cracked pavement. We don't even realize it sometimes, then suddenly the conversation is shifted to a certain group of people who, it is perceived, cannot drive right or are lazy or what ever stereotype is being used at the time.   It's not as pronounced these days with so much political correctness. There's a lot of it that a child can pick up through an off hand remark; and these off hand remarks happen often.

My grandfather (also my Aunt Virg's dad) probably got his prejudices from his father, who probably got it from his....and so on. Prejudice, like family jewels, seem to get passed down. Fortunately for my brothers, sister and I, we were born during a time when all the old ideas were questioned.  We were allowed to, by virtue of our generation's numbers, look further into what was being shoved down our throats and reject what didn't seem right. I feel very lucky to have grown up during that time

So for today, Fifty Five is the New Generation....because that's what we are!  We're the guys who were standing at marches, sitting at sit ins, questioning everything and changing the world....and we did it once.....surely we can do it again.