He’s a 94-year-old life-long Nebraskan, and I’d have to guess that he’s voted mostly Republican all his life.
He just stayed with us for three days in The Great Nebraska-Colorado Father Schlep (grin) my husband and his sister executed so doggedly and well. We had a really good time together, if you can believe any of us (another grin)… Even one evening’s contretemps resulted in a more honest and open connection, coming face to face with old grievances and whatnot, and I think we enhanced our mutual love and respect.
We even talked politics, and The Old Man, for he is tickled now when I call him that, laughed when I reminded him that politics was on the list of things we weren’t allowed to talk about at the dining table when we used to visit his and his wife’s home. Some of you may have had lists of verboten topics, too; Shhhhh…..
We talked about the total corruption of our government, and the fascist nature of it now, and Obama’s complicity in selling out the 99% so cravenly, or worse. He read a couple of my diaries that mentioned revolution, and he even asked more about one key exchange between Robert Alexander Dumas and me in the comments section. He loved the Sweet Honey in the Rock videos I’d posted, and we dug up more for him on youtube.
At the breakfast this morning we talked some more; after a pause in the conversation, he cleared his throat a little and said, “You know; for about a year I’ve been thinking about revolution, and the fact that it seems to be the only chance we have to turn all this around.”
So, we…er…talked some more about revolution, all of us ruing the fact that blood may have to be shed in the process of seeking success.
An hour later, I walked him and my husband onto the porch to say goodbye as they left for another leg of The Great Schlep, this one four or five hours north to meet with his daughter for further adventures. After hugs and thanks and good-byes, The Old Man said: “It’s funny how we seem to speak the same language.” No; it was not always so, and I seriously can’t recall him ever saying ‘fuck’, though my mouth seems to not have much of a monitor on it these days: so much to get pissed about and all. ;o)
Had he still been here when I read at The Hill that Obama’s funky jobs bill won’t be passed, but his stacked-with-industry Jobs Commission has some more great-for-corporations ideas to stimulate ‘job creation’, he might have said the word with some prodding. This piece on their calls to ‘reform the FDA’ by lowering the bar to absurd levels for pharmaceuticals and medical devices is appalling; the rest reads: industry profits at the expense of what we all hold dearest; and a few jobs might be created.
Anyway, this is for him, and for all of us who know that what’s happening all over the country with the Occupy movement is, must be, a revolution. If not now, then when?
I will admit to you all that I’m concerned that multiple millions of people aren’t joining in, and since I’m unable to, it pains me to say it. But please: talk to everyone; email your friends and other acquaintances: encourage them to lend their bodies and souls and Stand Up! to the oligarchs and plutocrats with honor and courage. Mention it, even to those you’ve judged as ‘on the other side’; there are some signs that there are some commonalities we share.
I may even make a sign and go to town and stand somewhere with it as long as I can tomorrow afternoon, and see who honks and waves. In a town of 800 people, almost everyone knows one another. ;o) (‘There’s that crazy wendydavis again…’)
Remind each other that the power is ours to reclaim: we are the sons and daughters of generations of relatives who have breathed us into life, light and love with courage and dedication in most all cases, even if it skipped a generation here and there…
Find ways to reach out in love and concern to others in your communities who need help, and may not know how to ask for it. We’re all in this together.
(I did ask the Old Man’s permission before I wrote this, and it’s likely he’ll be reading it, so please: do be nice and limit your fucking epithets in comments a little, okay?)
Ella’s song nods to the young people playing such a good part in demanding sweeping change and reclaiming our government for ourselves and future generations:
“The older I get I know that the secret of my going on
is when the reins are in the hands of the young who dare to run against the storm”
(cross-posted at kgblogz.com)