Red state, blue state. The map is rather telling when viewed from this perspective. A few weeks back I columned regarding the "real" America vs. pretenders to the throne, and I took some grief for it. Some were perturbed, some perplexed. I was villified in the local press. Shunned by those who thought I was being devisive. Hmmm, shunned by those who claim to desire unity...
Anyhoo, I am curious to see how this latest election cycle will be translated, how it will play out. I was in lurk mode today as I listened to those around me opine on said recent political shenanigans, and I came away with the opinion that all this talk about Americans of differing political leanings coming together is going to last about 5 minutes. I saw people in this town crying today because so and so lost. I saw people really happy today because so and so won. These folks are not on a pattern to intersect in the geometry of agreement anytime in the foreseeable future. And you know what? I don't care (incendiary statement #1).
I don't care because these folks have worldviews which are in large part comprised of irreconcilable differences. I don't see this as a bad thing (#2). What's wrong with having an opinion because you are convinced that your position is right, and wanting to legally and politically avoid electing someone who is diametrically opposed to how you want to see the country develop(#3)?
And so, in this spirit of the good old American virtue of "don't tread on me", I hereby announce that I will continue to promote devisive, narrow-minded policies that I firmly believe are right, and that I will actively work to eliminate and legally prevent those that I believe are wrong (#4). And finally, I promise to try my darndest to convince those who disagree with me that they are wrong, and that they should change their views (#5).
There. It's out for all to see. It's on the record and I can't/won't retract it now.
I respect all who disagree with me and choose to let me know, however, I do not respect the wrong beliefs I consider them to have. And in the spirit of true tolerance, I will continue to tolerate my own right to believe what's right, and to express that belief even with people who disagree with me and call me interesting names.
I have said my piece. Feel free to agree.

be good.

The Damp. That is a big part of it. Once Autumn gets serious around here, we have The Damp. Good and bad. We have it during Summer of course, but then it is the cursed Humidity. There is no "good" part of humidity. It just makes pleasant warm weather miserable. The Damp can be bad too, in that it makes a nice breeding ground for all manner of despicable organisms. But it shows its true colors in what it brings out in those of us who have lineage back to places that also have The Damp. For me, that place would be northern portion of the British Isles. I haven't been there, not in person anyway, but I frequently have Deja Vu when I see pictures and hear songs from that distant land. And not the pretty tourist pictures and the lively music either. The pictures of places that know nothing but the ever present, unrelenting Damp. The mist and the fog and the rain on the brutal landscape of the mountains and valleys. The music that speaks without words about surviving that Damp. "Don't come here" the pictures and melodies say. "This is not a bright and cheery existence" they warn. But the people who made those melodies were there. And they did exist. And existing there meant conquering The Damp. They were conquerors, my ancestors. They conquered The Damp. They conquered the accompanying cold. They conquered the soil, hidden so well within the preponderance of rock. And over time, conquering The Damp and its associated tribulations became the source of pride and accomplishment for them. It became their strength. They thrived on defeating The Damp. Warriors against nature, undaunted by the refusal of The Damp to give up and go away. Survivors. And that is in the melodies as well. "You cannot defeat me" they say. "I will learn to live and prosper in spite of you". And they did. And when the time came to venture away from The Damp at home, they came to a new land. And they brought their melodies with them. And they searched until they found the mist and the fog and the rain on the brutal landscape of the mountains and valleys that they knew they could conquer and thrive in. And they did conquer and thrive. And so did their melodies. Changed ever so slightly to reflect the promise of defeating The Damp in their new home. Their new home in the new mountains and valleys. Where The Damp in the Autumn is unrelenting. And where their descendents continue to survive and conquer and keep the melodies alive. Here in The Damp. The Good Damp.

Be happy and careful

It got dark early today. Sometime between going to sleep on Saturday night and waking up on Sunday morning, the time was changed, or so I hear. The time was just...changed. And so now we have entered that season of short days with diffused, slanting light, and soon we'll be in the midst of month after month of dark, grey, drizzling weather highlighted by 3 day blizzards and severe and lingering cases of cabin fever. And oh, if I but only had a cabin to have such a fever in...
I live in one room. I am an adult, I have some stuff; I am used to having some space around me having come from The 4, and yet I now live in one 7'x12' room. 7'x12'...7'x12'. A twin bed. A chair. Bookcase. No desk. Two lamps. Half of a closet and chest of drawers. A flourescent ceiling light (hummmmmmm). 7'x12'. That's my range now. One window. No temperature control. Recycled air. A public restroom for all the associated activities...7'x12'.
Acres? Hah!, They've never even heard of them here. Feet is how they measure things here. 7'x12'. A kitchen, you ask? Nope. Cafeteria. Spaghetti and lots of it. Carbo overload. Carbo sedation after lunch. Bad coffee. Fiber free zone. Powdered milk and Tang for orange juice. You don't like it? Tough. My brother in law was in the Marines for 10 years. He visited me a year and a half ago and his jaw dropped. "Worse than any barracks I've seen" said the guy who has lived in BEIRUT!
I am thinking now of walking through the fields in west-central Missouri. Coming out of the timber into the clearing where the grass is a hundred different shades of brown and tan. An overcast sky with a northwest wind. A stock pond with a few dry cottonwoods on the bank, and a small, round area of field grass that has been bent down where the deer slept last night. The dog has followed me from the house and he chases out after something back into the woods. I can pick up the smell of woodsmoke and it makes me want a wee bit of scotch to wash it down with. Across a shallow draw I see the field with silage left after the milo was cut. Corduroy brown fields and a small rise covered with cedars to frame it in back. I hear the Canadians before I see them flying over me in a straggling V shape on their way down to Mexico. It's 4:30 in the afternoon. It gets dark this time of day in New England, but here, well, here it's almost perfect. I know winter's coming. I can feel it in the damp wind coming down from South Dakota. It's November, and I am going back to the house and I will drink some coffee and play my guitar and wonder where the light goes when the time changes. It's the woodsmoke and whiskey time of year.

be good.