“The Gentleman.” Mike unscrewed the bowler hat from a fresh bottle of Tennessee single-malt, popped a pour spout in place, and made a shot glass turn amber.

Leaving dead presidents behind, the Bear shambled to the line.

“She was a hundred and two. She flew airplanes for 55 of those years, and taught people to do the same for 53. She has more hours in the air – 57,635.4 -than any other person but one, over 5.5 million miles – more than Chuck Yeager or John Glenn on both counts. She could fly about anything – helicopters, jets, balloons, and the mighty DC-3, quite the feat for someone who can’t have weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. For many years, she was *the* instructor in the American South to certify you to fly the old Gooney Bird.

“A car crash ended her flying career in 2005, but she managed the municipal airport at Morristown, Tennessee, as she’d done since way before I was born, until last year.

“The legends call her ‘Mama Bird’…. we just called her Miss Evelyn.

“To Evelyn Bryan Johnson – St. Peter’s tower, cleared to land.”

The Bear drained the glass… and set it very gently on the mantle above the fireplace. No crash, because she never did.

Permission to Live: Unwrapping the Onion

(via a certain other bear….)

I dream of the day when I can walk through airport security in 30 seconds again, shoes on, liquids cased, dignity intact. In any civilized country. (I will note for the record that UK security is, while not quite this good, much more *streamlined* and *helpful* than in the home of the brave.)

I dream of the day when the people I love on both sides of the world don’t fall under the heading “terrorist”, to be hounded to the ends of the earth, rendered into dark places, and have g-d knows what done to them, in the name of liberty-killing security.

I dream of the day when my friends aren’t judged by their religion – of any sort, Christian, Pagan, Jewish, none atall, or maybe – or by who they prefer to snuggle with, or what their gender is, was, or might be, or by where they’re from, much less their skin colour… but by the content of their character.

I dream of the day when all this kaleidoscope of people have the right to form family however they see fit – spice(*), sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews and nieces, mummies and das, mommies and mamas, dads and fathers, and have it not be a big deal.

I dream of the day when both people and corporations can get the mental healthcare they so desperately need… when we decide that physical healthcare for human beings is more important than fiscal healthcare for legal fictions. Not that we can’t have both! But one of these is more important than the other.

I dream of the day when the people of the world come together and sing with many hearts but with one voice, “We shall be free!” in a song that cannot be, and is not, ignored.

I dream of the day that the people of the world take up the responsibility that comes with that freedom… and do great and wonderful and magical things with it.

To be sure, magic is already loose in the world… but we can do so much more if we put our minds to it.

What will you do for freedom today?

My feelings on the aftermath of what happened ten years ago today are, strangely, summarized on a medium that didn’t even exist then, and yet has influenced revolutions the world over. Twitter. These two tweets appeared in my stream immediately next to one another; I’m going to flip their order for effect: First:

When it comes to right-wing politics, never attribute to mental illness what can be adequately explained by maliciousness.

Second:

Kienan, little abducted boy here in BC was returned safely home last night. To his family, 9/11 is the happiest day of all.

What happened on that day ten years ago brought out the best in us – and the worst in us. New Yorkers banded together – and we stood behind them – and did amazing things in a horrible situation; the heroics were countably infinite.

It also brought out a spirit of vengeance that has not yet been exorcised, and a miasma of fear that to this day governs our travel, our political landscape, even our day-to-day conversations. Political parties, once merely politely antipathetic, now try to demonize one another in the worst ways possible. The vitriol that the leaderships are throwing has drenched the rank and file on both sides, to the point where I’ve pretty much had to excuse myself from most political discussion simply because it’s gotten so *bloody* irrational.

It is time and past time to stop the hate.

We’ve learned how to come together as communities. In the last ten years, we’ve suffered through Katrina, Deepwater Horizon, the Japanese earthquake, the tsunami in the Indian Ocean in ’04, and countless “little” events including tornadoes in two of my former hometowns and a big nasty one in Massachusetts whose devastation was visible from space. We tweet, we blog, we Facebook, we *show up*. In just the last month or so my neighborhoods have saved a woman from foreclosure, gotten badly needed anti-gang resources from the county, stuffed a bus with diapers for the needy, and generally celebrated the summer *by coming together*.

And yet, there *is* so much hate in this country, and in the world. One side cannot stand the idea of “teh icky GAY” having the same rights as the other 90% of the country. They don’t like the idea of taking care of the people around them who, thanks to the arrogance, ignorance, and greed of a few, can no longer afford to take care of themselves. They think that the way to freedom is to force their own, personal lifestyle on all comers, regardless of who they are.

And on the other side… while it seems like the worst of the attitudes is manifested by the leadership on the one side(%), the vitriol seems particuarly strong amongst the rank and file of the other side. It’s gotten to the point where the *name* of the party of the first part is almost a swear word.

And it’s not like there aren’t issues that need dealing with. The whole business of strip searches in some form or fashion simply in order to travel has gotten worse, not better, since the 2008 election. The right to have the state recognize your partner(s)(*) of choice has been ignored in most states. (+) Government agents can still poke willy-nilly through your stuff with impunity. And big business still owns so much of our elected leadership that comics and pundits have taken to saying which *company* owns them rather than the state or community they supposedly represent… said ownership to the extreme detriment of our financial and medical well-being.

But there are glimmers of hope, and two of the three that come to mind come out of the gay community, the same people who have kept this straight guy sane for the last few years.

When Tennessee tried to pass a “don’t say gay” bill affecting the public schools, George Takei stood up and said, “You can use my name instead.” The bill apparently died of embarassment in the House.

When dope dealers tried setting up shop outside Uncle Mike’s BBQ, Uncle Mike told them, without threat of force other than his personal will, to get lost. They did. Mike also was a driving force behind the highly effective petition to return the deputy sherriff to the empty storefront near his shop.

And most recently, when an Orson Scott Card palim psest of Hamlet was re-published, instead of pitchforks and torches, the community at large said, “OK, this sucks, what’s good?” and started listing out a plethora of excellent novels about GLBTQ topics and by such authors. Yes, the publisher also got an earful, but apparently a polite one, and he seemed very receptive to the idea of taking care of the issue in a positive manner.

So we *can* let go of the hate, and still solve problems. This is what needs doing. Because, y’see, “They” *did win* ten years ago. They shut us down for a week, and put us into a tailspin of fear and hate from which we have yet to recover.
Let us show them, with love and compassion, but with no tolerance for ignorance (deliberate or otherwise) of human rights, that we have not yet begun to fight.

I am reminded of the story of the Grinch. When the Grinch made off with all the toys and trappings and ability to make noise, Noise, NOISE, the Whos did not storm Mt. Crumpet, an act which would inevitably resulted in a lot of smashed toys, cold feet, and the death of the Grinch, poor innocent Max, and probably a number of Whos… instead? They sang. And when the Grinch had a change of heart, they welcomed him with love.

I’m not saying that the problems before us are as easy to solve as all that. There will always be people in this world whose only language is violence, and we have to find some way to deal with that – and it’s often not pretty. But I think if we try our best to respond in a way that makes some puzzlers sore, we might be surprised at how far we get.

There is a surprising amount of bad in this world. But there is *also* a surprising amount of good. There is a saying, haters gonna hate. I think it’s a cop-out. I think we need to give them a reason to love.

Haters gonna hate? No. Lovers gonna WIN. And by that, I don’t mean, conquer the other side. We were *all* created human, and we have the inalienable rights to life, love, liberty, and the pursuit of excellent music. Let’s teach the world to SING.
——-
(^) I searched for a word here and came up with this, tres apropos
(%) I have personal knowledge of a number of the rank and file who, by both
word and deed, exemplify otherwise
(*) There, I said it, if you’re gonna dream, dream big.
(+) In a moment of delicious irony, it is the state of New York that most
recently got its act together on that point, something which has made a dear
friend very happy.)

You may treat this as formal notice that I will, to the best of my ability, moderate my lifespace (cyber or f2f) with equinamity, bringing the banhammer and the praise cookies out as needed. Awesome will be rewarded with awesome, but if you mess with me or my people or my space? The hammer is comin’, brah, warp speed.

And you, gentle reader, are encouraged to point out that which deserves either.

Well, between the publicity, the petition, and some King County officials paying attention to this and the recent massacre in Kent, there is a new plan afoot, pending final Council approval, that will not only give us the deputy, but outreach programs for county youth, both those who aren’t in trouble yet, and those who have already had a brush with the law, and *healthcare*.

Details on the White Center Now blog.

This is the kind of result you can get by standing up and getting people’s attention. Granted, Dow Constantine seems a lot more willing to listen than certain other politicians in either Washington… but then, it’s up to you and I to put people in who *will* listen, innit?

Stand up, say your truth, say it loud, don’t back down. Lather, rinse, repeat as necessary. And if it doesn’t work, find a way to say it louder, or do something entirely different. But don’t take “no” for an answer.

Seh-lah

“The world is a fine place, and worth the fighting for.”
    — Ernest Hemmingway

He (Russian ships are “he”, not “she”) is the RUS ??????? (Pallada), named for Pallas Athena. He was built in the Gdansk Shipyard in 1989, literally on the cusp of history – this was the year of Lech Walesa’s Round Table talks. Walesa would’ve been able to see the ship just by going to work (if in fact he was still working at the shipyard at that point…) More on the ship here; pics from the 2005 Tacoma Tall Ships here. (Thanks to Raine for the linkage!)

When I was a lad in 1986, I remember attending a showing of Red Dawn at Georgia Tech. Every time a Russian soldier appeared on the screen, the young Fuzzy Bees were all KILL KILL BOO HISS… they wanted blood. At the time I sort of bounced along in that tide of hysteria… and then 1989 happened, and the wall fell, and we got into ISS, and …. and now this. Click through and listen to the sendoff. Oh so very different.

Gives me hope for the world, it does. It feels weird! But in the best of ways.

rosamicula

In song, talis_kimberley has new lyrics. (I think the tune is in alpha?)

And pretty well complimenting Talis’ song is this pic from the New Yorker.

Be a part of the solution, or be a part of the precipitate. Be the change you want to see.

And be excellent to each other. Y’all deserve it.

solarbird

(And those of you who are elsewhere and not necessarily a supporter of the Pacific NorthWet, I encourage you to look to your own *local* communities, be it New Hampshire or Wiltshire or wherever! The mountains are high, and the Emperor is far away!)