This is Where I’ve Been

  Week Ten: On the Turning Away  Don’t accept that what’s happening is just a case of others’ suffering or you’ll find that you’re joining in the turning away. It’s a sin that somehow light is changing to shadow and casting its shroud over all we have known… --Pink Floyd, On the Turning Away , from A Momentary Lapse of Reason I use Facebook, but to be quite honest, I’m not sure why. I read into what other people post as if they all contribute to a worldwide conspiracy to irritate the living shit out of me. Often I see posts intended to convince me that Donald Trump is a bad person, which would be helpful if such a realization weren’t already quite apparent. There are posts back in the day intended to convince me to cast my vote for Hillary Clinton, which might have happened if I had changed my mind. There are even posts intended to convince me that certain oils are essential (for exactly what they are less clear). For reasons related to deep-seated masochistic tendencies I read all of

  Week Nine: Somewhere Over the Rainbow Somewhere over the rainbow  Way up high There’s a land that I heard that I heard Once in a lullaby Somewhere over the rainbow  Skies are blue And dreams that you dare to dream Really do come true —Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, from Alone in IZ World, originally performed by Judy Garland from The Wizard of Oz When we registered for a tour of botanical gardens on the island of Barbados, West Indies we could not have predicted the impact Hunte’s Gardens would have on us. In fact, the tour began rather inauspiciously as the group of two dozen tourists gathered to wait for the local guide who would lead us throughout the gardens. What none of us could have guessed was that the tour guide was 82 year old Anthony Hunte, designer, chief architect, and owner of Hunte Gardens. A weathered soul, Mr. Hunte warmly greeted the group with gratitude and an air of confidence earned after countless tours for distracted North Americans, some of

  Week Eight: We’re an American Band Sweet, sweet Connie, doin’ her act. She had the whole show and that’s a natural fact. --Grand Funk Railroad, We’re an American Band,  from the album We’re an American Band Usually I hear a song and I relate it to something or someone somewhere in my memory. Recently I was witness to a young ringleader who almost immediately reminded of a song by Grand Funk Railroad, We’re an American Band. I first saw her at an outdoor restaurant in Puerto Rico. On that day I likened her behavior to an eight week old puppy who tears through life with frenetic energy until limitations are established. Actually I saw her twice that day, once at the restaurant and then again that same evening in the hotel. She had miraculously gained enough control to dance with the very same brother that had so effectively pushed her panic buttons hours earlier. I’ll explain. We were already seated when  a family of four approached the table closest to ours across the aisle, affordin

  Week Seven: Changes And these children that you spit on As they try to change their worlds Are immune to your consultations They’re quite aware of what they’re going through --David Bowie, Changes, from Hunky Dory When Colin Kaepernick decided to kneel instead of stand during the pregame performance of the National Anthem, like many others, I noticed his behavior. Later, I listened to his reasons. When the students of over 3000 American high schools participated in an orchestrated walkout of class, I knew of their rationale before I saw them do it, and it appeared to me that the majority of the folks who expressed their opinions on social media had listened to their reason(s) prior to considering their behavior. Perhaps one of the differences was that the walkout was planned, publicized, and highly anticipated whereas Kaepernick just knelt down when we thought he ought to stand up. This is how I see both: People who kneel during the playing of the National Anthem and people who leav