Giving Thanks - waiting for the new town to arrive

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Again - I fly out the end of a storm of contrasts.

Tuesday - a screaming nor'easter, straight off the ocean.  My surrogate older sister, Mia, up in Temple, is hit with 5" of snow on her deck.  Driving in the mountains is slick icy and deadly.  Flood warnings for everyplace else.

Here in town - torrential, blistering wind-driven rain.  Horizontal, coming in from the bay.  Flags, both in front of the hospital and the hotels, all snapping loud as Orson Welles' braces. 

Flood watches everywhere it's not snowing.

Wednesday - suddenly clear, sunny and cold.  A lovely sunrise greeted my preparations for going in to work - I was off by the time the sun set.

Thursday - Thanksgiving.  All the leaves are gone.

I've noticed this oddity before, never seen it in process.  Trees are a riot of colors, leaves blowing everywhere and suddenly they are all done, piles of crinkly colors underfoot.  Branches are bare - and before you know it, nothing is underfoot.  

The ground is clear as if a giant vacuum cleaner has sucked up the last of Fall and taken it to some strange hidden trashbin.

The ground is stark, the outline of the land and buildings is clear in a way you've not seen before.  In one way it's very sere, very empty.  But it's also very easy on the eyes, you can see what things look like, unclothed until the snows fly and cover it all with a blanket of variable white.

I admit that I have always liked this time of year.  You see three or four different worlds change around you as time goes by.  

The rich greens of late Summer.  The fading glory of the start of Fall and it's glorious later explosion.  Then the strange ending of the season, leaves mostly on the ground, defiant stragglers still clinging to their Summer places.

Finally - at some point, early on or later near Thanksgiving, a storm will come and ruthlessly strip them off, leaving stark trees, as if drawn by God's own steel-tipped pen.  

And that leaves us where we are, right now.  This strange, pregnant pause before plunging into the cold embrace of Winter.  The snows will come, soon; the ground lays waiting with outstretched arms to welcome the intimate closeness of a lover.

Here we are, waiting with empty fields, shopping malls parking lots, scarves on necks, layers of coats and cups of coffee, waiting for the next city to come, white and sere, cold and rich.

The next city to come.

You Stupid Darkness!

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One of my favorite strips from the old Peanuts comic begins with Charlie Brown asking why Linus is standing in a dark night with a lit candle.  Linus replies, quoting a Chinese proverb - "It is better to light one candle than curse the darkness".

Tell me the Chinese don't have a culture that is 3,000 years old.

Charlie Brown agrees, but then observes "of course, there are those who might disagree with you..."

Cut to Lucy, screaming at the night sky, "You stupid darkness".

Sometimes that's how it feels when I attend these rallies - and for good or ill, I tend to show up at most of them.

For those not in the know - last Sunday our local paper published an AP story cataloguing the increase in racist speech around the country since the election of Barak Obama.  I have some theories about this, which I might get into later.

One of them was a sign from a store in Standish, advertising Obama Bingo and offering a pool betting on when the President-elect would be offed - and how.  There were takers - and a note at the bottom: "I hope someone wins".

Needless to say there were letters to the editors, a Facebook group and, of course, a rally.

I wandered over with Sandy from the Orchard, who was acting as a freelance photog for the PPH.  I borrowed C's camera - the nice DSLR - and sat down to observe.

Oh yes - also to adjust their sound system to the darn thing would work - you'd think that people who do so much studiously public speaking would know how to adjust a sound system so there would be no feedback and both speakers would work.  I'm just sayin' ....

Sandy and I walked down from Parkside - the wind was howling off the Bay, it was insanely cold - the kind of damp cold that goes right through your parka and into your toes and bones.   Being diabetic doesn't help as the circulation in those small arteries isn't what it once was.

Still, it was interesting to see it all happen.

And so I listened to all the usual suspects I have always heard at previous events through the years:

- the "Aryan brotherhood recruiting response" rally

- the "rolling the pig's head in the Muslim worship center" rally

  - the "spray painting anti-black/Muslim graffiti" rally

- the "beat the crap out of the gay guy" protest rally (several of those)

- the "ham steak on the Muslim kid's lunch tray" rally

- the "take back the night against rape" rally

...and on, and on, and on ....

The rally itself was very moving.  Most notable was Steve Wessler of the Center for Prevention of Hate Crimes (who lives in Litchfield, of all places).  He always shares the most incredible stories from his work with kids in schools, keeping it incredibly real - the least academic feelings coming from an educational context.

The Governor was there, the Mayor-elect (always liked her, now I'm really impressed), the new Episcopal bishop was at a conference in New Hampshire and sent a rep.  Cops and DA's  and Mark Dion, the sherrif who shared a story about his daughter and how she dealt with injustice when a child - which was when I was teaching her - all of them saying what was obvious, what was needed to be said ...

... and all of it being things that I have heard all of them say before.

After a while you don't know which side of the comic strip you want to come down on - are you Linus, faithfully, confidently holding up a single candle against the dark of the entire universe?  Or are you his sister (his sister, we forget that) Lucy; just getting your mad on against the entire nature of it all.

What is the right response.  And why the hell do I keep showing up at these things?   If there are incidents against Natives in this state I know they're not showing up in the media.

Doesn't mean they're not there, it's just that they're not making it into the media.  To give everyone their due I suspect that any overt examples would make it quite easily.

Still, if you are the kind of person for whom these things register then it can get a little daunting.  The list of incidents and their attendant rallies is long.  If you're not the kind of person for whom this registers, well, you're probably posting things on the newspaper comment web pages and complaining about how all of this is a waste of taxpayer money to punish people for being stupid.

There is a clear movement to change - or to want to change - some of the fundamental attitudes of people in this country. An attitude - as we say in Oklahoma - of being "someone just looking for a dog to kick".

My own thinking - adumbrated above - is that everyone, without exception - can be in a place where they are looking for a dog to kick.  We just get there, that's how we feel.

The catch - or one of the fundamental burdens of our human nature - is that we can generally know what it is we think, what it is we feel.  More rarely are we conscious of what we think about what we think, what we feel about what we feel.

And that is what those dogs get kicked by.  

So I suppose that's what we do.  We keep holding up the mirror and telling people this is what you do, this is what you are.  We judge each other's actions by a standard - whether those for whom such things register will hear it, accept it - that is another issue.

But voices still must be heard.  I don't know how mine fits in, I suppose the radically different life I lead now will show me - but these voices must still be heard.

Either by lighting candles or by yelling at the darkness.  Either way will warn the dogs against the boots.

Late Autumn

Betwixt.

Between.

Neither fish nor fowl or good red herring.

The contents of my $5 bag of bargain veggies has changed - there are fewer greens - actually, none - and more yellows, reds and browns.

Things that will keep.

I made the acquaintance of a root called "celeriac"  - which to me sounds like some kind of monastic order - that can be cut, sliced, roasted, basted, flayed - again, like certain monastic orders I've heard about (and this means you,  Trappists....).

Thinking more about hearty soups (with celeriac) and chili.

Things that will keep.

The trees are pretty much bare now - wind blown leaves line the sidewalks.  Strange jewels on the street, swept up, bagged, crinkly treasure troves.

The election serves as a convenient marker.  We're all in a new place now and like fascinated children we open our eyes and see what it's like.

Today there are many cold toes attached to people selling things in the Farmer's Market.  Talk turns, inevitably, to the oncoming Winter.  Some of the vendors will still be out there through all but the most demanding weather.

There is a lot of material I haven't put online yet - it will come in the next day or so - but right now,before marking all that has gone before I have to acknowledge where I am.  I was and now I am, looking forward to where I will be next - and what that will look like.

Things that will keep.

There was a riot ... then a rally broke out

First it started off with one person - besides myself - in the square.

After sticking around at the Empire to listen to President-elect (I agree with Crooks and Liars - it's so good to finally get to type that) Obama's acceptance speech - an event Keith Obermann likened to a "moon landing moment" - I did a one-person hegira to the Soldiers and Sailor's Memorial - otherwise known as "our lady of victories" - just to be present, to feel the memories of all those people who have gathered there for the momentous occasions in the life of the city.

I had mentioned to Ms. KT so many hours before - words uttered in an old world and a dark reality - that I had hoped it would end at the Monument.  I knew my day would - it would be good to see other folks looking for the same sense of community.

Then my reverie was broken by the sight of two people on the monument.

Behind me, back up Congress toward the Empire I could hear whoops and shouts - "OOOObama!"  and pure yells of animal joy.

And they were moving my way.

Then I noticed that people - one at a time and in pairs - were making their way up from the Old Port and Munjoy Hill.  They could have been people out to enjoy the temperate evening  - it was surprisingly warm - or on their way home from watch parties in the local hotels and bars.

For whatever reason more folks were arriving by bike and foot.  Cars would fly by, arms and torso, voices screaming with joy, shouts of "Obama" and "Yes We Can!" echoing off the buildings.

Then a spontaneous dance broke out.  Two folks started hand drumming on the top of the power box - one guy started kicking its side to add a really tight bass beat.

That started to worry me as I knew - from performing there over the years - that there was enough juice in there to give someone a nasty, nasty shock.

I did give a word to the wise - and they were wise enough to back down.

Still, a city truck came by, with a city electrician to give a warning.

It was an interesting chat.  I didn't want to appear to take responsibility for the crowd but I didn't want them being shut down.  Happily the electrician just re-interated what my concern was and the kids backed right off for the rest of the evening.

Then he said something very interesting. 

"You know, this election has been for the kids anyway.  I'm glad they're having fun, they earned it.  The thing I'm proud of is that everyone got off their asses and voted to make it happen.  Let 'em make noise.  Just don't let 'em kick that box".

...And he was off.

Then a young man in a suit - whom I'd seen doing Important Things at the Pingree party earlier - spoke to the crowd - and there it was:  the Call.

Mostly the question was "what are you going to do?"  Something I was sort of waiting to hear from the universe in general since the election had been called.

There are huge problems that are going to have to be dealt with.  I'm glad people have a chance to get their freak on over this result - it's an astounding moment of excitement and empowerment for the entire nation - but we've really only bought a ticket on what promises to be a long, hard bus ride.

After that the dancing began.  I stayed and shot video - watched my new acquaintance KT dance.  

Then the Jamaican drummers showed up.  A conga.  A fleet of guys carrying saucepans and noise makers.  Glowtubes and if we'd had some techno I'd call it an Obama Rave.

So here we are.  One day of change, more than most people can see and integrate in their entire lifetimes.

A defining moment for America.  Give me a day or two to sort it all out - as life and work and finances and fiends all need to be sorted out, reality has only paused ...

... and then headed off in a totally new direction.

Live from the Empire - 11:07 p.m.

Obama wins!!!!!

Live from the Empire - 10:47 p.m.

Well, well, well.  Chellie Pingree is returning to the stage.

She's acknowledging her victory.

"this is a great night.  Still some results.  She is declaring how excited she is.  Thanking Charlie Summers.

Tom Allen - for his decision to run against Susan Collins.  

A twenty month campaign.  Fortunate to have won the Democratic primary.  The debate has changed from the war - now it's health care, energy, the economy.  Change is demanded and the voters have chosen her to do it.

A lot has to be done and she is excited to be part.

It hasn't been done alone.  Imagine what it will feel like when we wake up and see the idea that people in countries all over the world are going to open their newspapers, turn on their radios and say "they did it in America"  All of us willl say "we did it".  And tomorrow morning we'll wake up and say we have a new president.  

End the Iraq war.  DOme something about energy.  We're going to be tough about this.

An amazing moment - perhaps the first step that defines the new dance that might be sweeping the entire nation.

We shall see. 

Live from the Empire - 9:15 p.m.

Chellie Pingree has made her first appearance upstairs.  It was an acknowledgement of everyone's hard work and Obama's apparent taking of the state.

The signs were quite nice and there was a great, happy energy in the room.

One of my former students and her dad are here.  They've hit the buffet and are schmoozing the crowd.

I've been trying to get logged onto the official state of Maine site to get more immediate information but the internet connection I'm using is too weak.

The MPBN stringer sitting next to meet just commented that it's looking like a landslide.  I'm inclined to agree - but not willing to roll down that incline.

There is a flouncy little red haired fireball, I'd guess about 7 years old who is skipping through the crowd and having a great time being made much of by the crowd.

Sadly it looks like question one - which will yank a great deal of funding from health insurance in the state - seems to be passing.  maybe that will change but I'm not sure.

Live from the Empire - 8:33

Jean Shaheen has sucked out John Sununu Jr.

This is looking better and better.

There is a quiet buzz in the room.  People keep one eye on the screen - which is showing CNN - and one eye on the conversation they are holding.

Texas - McCain 51 Obama 49

Pennsylvania - projected Obama win. Don't see the 

West Va - going toward Obama

Chellie Pingree staff is starting to pass out signs for her.  I think she's getting ready to make her entrance.  The noise level and the energy level are starting to ratchet up.  The signs are coming out - the cameras are tuning around - something is definitely happening.

Live from the Empire 8:26

The crowd is building slightly - Susan Campbell from WCSH is getting ready to go live.  There's quite a crew from CSH working the tech - three camera, four suits and a lot of hair gel.  I'm sharing the table with a freelancer working for Maine public Radio and an AP photographer.

This is fun - still no new results.

Nope - Obama just took New Hampshire - 60 to 39 -  he totally sucked McCain out of his comeback.

This is even more fun.

Live from the Empire

8:00 - 

Obama wins Maine 67 to 33 - sounds like a rout to me.

Let's hope this keeps up.

I'm upstairs at the Empire Dine and Dance.  A couple of friends - Laura B. from tango, Ann from Running, Chris from Geno's - and a whole crew from tango just came in.

It's hard to tell what's going on - if I had net access it would be easier.

Election Day 4 - 6:45 a.m.

The nice lady invited us all inside.

The line gratefully shuffled forward.

So now I set my chair up by the entrance to the basketball court.

I've blogged about this space  before and it has very pleasant memories.  You can see the line of voting booths far and away on the other side of the room.

Now, as the moment approached and more people came into the lobby - where we weren't allowed to lobby, so KO had to be switched off - you could feel an energy building - well, I could, anyway.

Over on the wall was a big map of the city, with all the voting districts laid out on it.  KT and I checked it out and located our respective houses, comparing them with the various voting districts.  

I was still foolish enough to think I could get some kind of net access and would sit in my chair at the front of the line trying to take notes and update this blog, my Facebook - anything.

It didn't really happen.

About 6:55 I started packing up the chair - with KT's help - she really is a classy lassie - rolling up the sleeping bag liner, putting away the electronics and getting ready to do my civic duty.

With one minute to go the precinct manager signaled me - and the line - to head down to a tape line at the end of the stanchion and wait for instructions.

Last time I was challenged by a rat-faced little squirt - I had my camera and a mental thesaurus filled with clever invective in case it happened again.

But, (sadly) it didn't.  I was waved ahead into the proper A-L line, my name checked off - didn't even need my birth certificate - I was handed two large ballots and away I went to the middle booth.  KT went to one on the end of the line.

Marking the ballot took all of ninety seconds and I'd like to take this moment to thank all of my teachers, students and mentors for teaching me to read and think - and, come to think of it, my Dad, for almost getting his skinny Cherokee ass shot blown off in WWII and making it possible for me to vote.

That's a whole 'nother story.

So, with my job done I went to the little robot machine to place in my votes - when one more responsibility came to me.  The precinct manager said that before I could put my ballots in the slot I had to swear the counter said "zero" and sign a paper to that effect.

I had to put my reading lenses on and placed my ballots on the top.  The manager covered them with his hand so that the votes could not be seen and that - that simple act - is when I think I fell in love with this country all over again.

Funny - though not surprising - I still can't share the story - and have, over the past few hours - without tearing up.  That simple gesture of respect says more about what is important about this entire process - this entire country - this entire world - than anything I can conjure up.

Needless to say KT and I shook hands - high-fiving might have been a little arch - and headed out the door.  I wanted to scream and shout.  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to sing.

Suddenly I mostly wanted to eat some breakfast.  Had to run to the store.  Had to get some kitty food.

The sun was rising over the Expo - maybe, maybe, maybe by this time tomorrow the sun of a new - or old - political life will break over the horizon of America.

We shall see.

We shall see.

Election Day 3 - 5:30 a.m.

And now I'm not alone.

A very nice lady named KT - well, for all I know she might be a hellacious punker but she seems nice right now - has walked up.

It's slightly past 5:30 and the sky is beginning to lighten.

In "The Secret Garden" Frances Hodgden Burnett advised people to watch a sunrise - but to start waiting for it in the darkest hour of the night - when there is no light at all - and then feel the sun come up starting with the faintest glimmer of light.  Only then does sunrise have its proper power and context.

KT works for an ecologically advanced cleaning service and is coming by to vote before going to work at 8.  She's armed with coffee but wound up sitting on the concrete - I loaned her my blanket and we both watched Countdown on my laptop - might as well give up on actually blogging.  Wound up taking notes.

My actor friend - and Democratic activist - Harlan Baker dropped by on his way to help out.  We chatted and it looks like I might be on the front page of the West End News.  It was fun to chat.

As the clock revolved past 6 a.m. more people began to show up.  Abram, my neighbor on the street and the archivist for the Children's Theatre, called out to me.  Great to see him.

And then, they moved us inside.

Election Day 2 - 5:00 a.m.

My back is getting cold - a wind has come up from the direction of the water - lights coming on inside the Expo.  At 5:15 or so the busses leave the garage on St. John Street, a line that breaks up at the corner (shown here), some heading left out Park, some straight to Woodfords, some turning right toward me, heading intown on Park, no riders.

The driver waves at me while passing, seems a little bemused.

I'm hoping this election becomes something transformative.  I called my Dad last night, told him to vote and thanked him for serving in WWII so that I could do so.  Driving down by the American Legion Post, thinking of the old drum corps that used to practice here.

All of it driven by a shared experience of overcoming a threat - everyone working toward a common, agreed goal - even if the motivations and experiences that defined it were radically different.

I've gotten phone calls, emails, chatted on the street, with friends from here and all over the world.  All of them committed to electing Sen. Obama, all of them desperate to have a representative government they could be proud of.

As I've been fond of quoting "it's not that America isn't ready for a black president - is it ready for an intelligent president?"

My hope is this - we will be a different, more committed society because of working together for this critical event.  We will know each other better, trust each other more, work together more effectively to solve whatever problems we are given to face.

Despite its kneejerk conservatism the American Legion and other groups got their strength from the common experience, common mindset of their members.  That lasted a long, long time until the changes of society and reality - and their incapacity to evolve - doomed them to fade into history.

Perhaps a society committed to adaptation to change will have the flexibility to grow and nurture itself.

I've been joined by someone ....

Election Day1-4:50 a.m.

Well, I've been here for an hour.  Now a little cold around the edges and so far, not a lot has happened.

My internet connection is an open net from someone's apartment across the way.  It flakes out but at least it's working now.

The day started at 3:00 - well, that's when I woke up - I was moving by 3:30 and out the door by 4:00 - then back in the door at 4:10 since I'd left my cell phone.

My little camp at the Expo door, shown, was actually very comfortable.  I think the temp dropped as time went by, I could feel it in my back .  The socks (double layered) on my left foot were slightly wet from washing the dishes before I left - and that made it just uncomfortable enough to be noticed.

So I guess you can say my real "watch" started at 4:20 or so.  The lights on that stretch of Park Ave. are all the peach-colored xenon lamps popular with energy-observant utilities.  It's easy to see why they are used - but also it makes you aware of the ubiquitous color that so many cities have at night.

The light is artificial - unnatural enough to make you uneasy.  I'm keeping an eye on the street.  A noise on the other side resolves into a woman dressed in a white bath robe, hair wrapped high in a towel.  She sits on the top step of the wooden stoop, lights a cigarettte.  I wonder why she bothered taking a shower if she's just going to smoke herself up before even getting dressed.

It's very quiet - only the occasional police car.  I'm thinking about how much is riding the result of today's events.  Hard to say.

Finally - 4:50 - a City person unlocks the Expo door - lights begin to go on inside.  He doesn't acknowledge me as he bustles past the door.  Either out of a disdainful sense of superiority, or a sense of threat, or, more likely, he's too damn busy getting things ready for the poll workers due at 6:00.