Twenty-six Years

It was twenty-six years ago today. Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play. This was my first wife. College buddy, fantastic friend over the years. She writes. Read her stuff. She creates jewelry. Buy her stuff. She is a great mom. I watched her as I struggled through a myriad of relationships. We stayed in loose touch with each other.

Given the state of my own family now, looking back through the years, I see patterns. My sister is the only one who has remained consistent through all of this. My sister manages to live and let others live as they wish. My two horribly selfish and and egotistical sisters have been nothing more that wall covering. One is a serious narcissist; the other a histrionic borderline. If they were clients instead of family I would be recommending medication. But then neither would listen.

Now I sit and wait for those precious moments when my mother is lucid and coherent. I hope that she recalls who I am each time I call. I know that she is overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of Ms POA and her hired CREW, but in a corrupt and inept system designed to protect the status quo, we must be patient.

Today my soon to be a teenaged daughter asked if I approve of GWB's politics. I was emphatic in my response. I know I have said this before, but it merits repeating. For a bunch of folks who want libertarian-like small unobtrusive government, the Republican Party sure does seem bent of intruding into our lives. Abortion, non-traditional marriage, fixing gas prices, sponsoring a state religion and mandating English as our national language. I think they are just the puppets of their true masters - Business as usual here in the USA. Give business what they want even if it is not in this nation's best interests. Give business what they want less they should pack up and move to a less environmentally conscious place. Maybe they could all move the Mexico and eliminate the need to build the very long fence. Maybe they could all move to Sri Lanka or India where they desire to work is strong. Maybe they thought of that and realize that business is afforded protection here that they can't get else where.

enough said. buy some jewelry from my ex-wife and say hello to her from me.

Praise from MotB

Left a CD on the desk of my co-worker so that she could share the photos with her daughter. She sent me an e-mail end of day indicating she was pleased. That is good news. My wife and I have now been invited to the reception. Cool.

Closeup

Closeup, originally uploaded by unohuu.

We met for drinks and dinner first. Talked about all kinds of things. We talked about work and motorcycles and divorces and kids and adoption and vacations and honeymoons and how I learned to speak Spanish. We took off for the park and then had a bit of fun shooting and talking and laughing. This was the first time I could get a couple to meet me before the wedding so that we could get to know each other a bit and to relax some with the camera. I wish them well. They are quite attractive as my wife said and I think they are photogenic.

Kitsch

Kitsch, originally uploaded by unohuu.

some things one can live without. more wars, taxes, hatred. today i went to the Farmer's Market, with family. We started out looking for a place to park. We split up so the kids could have a big juicy bratwurst for breakfast. more than thirty years ago i was probably doing the same thing as i slept in the convent and took the Eurail to Germany so I could get a solid night of sleep. Got there just in time to see the Germans having their brats and beer for breakfast and jump back on the train to get back to Luxembourg. I had run out of money and needed to get my baggage out of storage so I could board the flight back to the US. I am guessing that those lockers are no longer there.

why am i writing this? our homes are brimming with kitsch. things we thought were cute or adorable. did we need them? no we did not. but our consumer cultures seemingly compel us to buy more and more. shirts, food, dolls and toys, sporting equipment, cameras, stereos, video games, TVs.

Rock Zen

Rock Zen, originally uploaded by unohuu.

The Peace that Surpasses All Understanding.

The knowledge that we are intricately and inextricably part of the world that we create and recreate each and every day.

That all is that is.

Yesterday

I sent my sister's attorney a list of what we want. Actually it is only my sister and I. My brother is wrapped up in his own stuff right now, even though he too swore that we would not stop until my mother was free from the tyranny of Ms POA and her band of lying henchwomen. I think it odd that so many of the co-conspirators are Ms POA's lackeys. What has she promised them? A cut of the estate after they force my mother to rush headlong into an earlier than necessary death? What could cause the very social worker entrusted to PROTECTING my mother to turn a deaf ear on the misery she ignores? What evil lurks in the deformed and dimunitive heart of that woman? Was her mother a Lizzy-Borden-like character that heaped merciless beatings upon her? Was she mistreated at some time by some elder school teacher? Could she have been ignored by someone with my mother's name or manner of speech?

The list is simple...keep her paws off the mother and allow us fair access. Give up the POA for now and allow a state-appointed GAL to handle this. Apologize to my sister and my father. I do not need or want an apology from the tyranny because there is no longer any need to trust. This most recent behavior is an indication that her soul is already lost and I have no desire to try to confer with her other than freeing our mother. how much money is worth defamation; slander; lies and gross misconduct? What price one's dignity? One can always earn more money. One can always have more of something less tangible than fame. One can never have more blood relatives than one has. The betrayal of family is not forgiveable for me right now. I do not know what it would take for me to find that forgiveness in my heart. It still hurts to think that she allowed my sister to be jailed and to remain jailed - see how powerful and connected she is. She can't remember that MLK and Carmichael and many others gladly took jail time as a challenge to those who would deny our fathers and mothers the same freedoms as they took so cavalierly for granted. The sin of forgotten history.

Attention

Attention, originally uploaded by unohuu.

every once in a while i am able to make a beautiful photograph that i can still be proud of years later. this is one of those. i remember taking this image. already a couple of years old, i am still pleased when i look at it. it will be going to Whitewater for a gallery opening. Yea!

Bus Stop

Bus Stop, originally uploaded by unohuu.

a couple of nights ago i had a dream that i told off one of our judges and i was subsequently fired from my job. that was a good thing and i was able to do some of the things in life that i think are important. in no particular order they are spending time with my parents and family; spending more time actually helping others rather than being bogged down in a system that sucks the life and energy from some of society's true gems. i could spend time making beautiful photographs as well. the reality is that I would probably end up on the bus stop going to some job that really had no meaning for me whatsoever.

I Hate Soccer!

I Hate Soccer!, originally uploaded by unohuu.

kids get it right. they don't have the complex emotional and political lives that we adults have. they hate what does not interest them. they are honest about it. we hem and haw and fuss about this and about that. we could learn a bit from the kids.

Soccer Mom

Soccer Mom, originally uploaded by unohuu.

Our kids go to school in a neighborhood far away from where I live. They are at an inner city school. I wanted them to have the benefit of ethnic, social and cultural diversity. I am finding that is a double-edged sword. There are always some negative elements that you think you can ignore as factors when you start doing the math. I had probably over reacted to the problem of my daughter being the only other non-white kid in her kindergarten class. She was performing well then...now we are struggling with her pre-teen years and her struggle to define herself. She has not chosen the "right" African-American children. She has chosen the ruffians and young hoodlums. Yes, there is some parental overreaction at play here. But I had hoped she would "hook up" with the "young nerds" who excel at school and have horrible social lives. Sounds familiar. Guess she is too smart for that. At some point we have to let them go and fend for themselves. If they are not consumed by the social services, criminal justice or CD systems, I guess they all have a good chance for survival. I bet my mother had similar worries about me. Even though I was an Angel.

This is my son's friend's mother. We see her two or three times a week. She works in my building, too. Small worlds we really do live in.

Striped Tulip

Striped Tulip, originally uploaded by unohuu.

why can't we all live together? what happened to the ideals of our youth? we were going to change the world and in fact, time will look back and see that we did. we started the environmental movement and now we drive monster SUVs. we started talking about sustainable growth and now we have monster yards that require tons of petroleum based fertilizers to keep green. we talked about saving the whales and we gulp caviar and shrimp and scallops and sushi as if we might never eat again. we preached love and now avidly practice hate - we hate all those people who are not us - irrespective of who we are. we immersed ourselves in diversity and now we enclose ourselves in gated and policed communities because we are xenophobic. we embraced differences and now we abhor the different. we were tolerant of others; now we eschew all that does not fit into our neat little packaged sound bites.

would that we could be like the animals that we believe we are so very superior to. flowers and bugs and turtles and squirrels. this morning i saw road crew picking up deer that had been killed on the highway . i cried a short tear for those deer. i got to work and there were issues about saving children that were so very important. i called APS in that far away place where my mother lives. they hardly had time to take the report. this from a society that promised to respect elders and love children and place our values back in the heart of our constitution.

it just is not happening the way we planned. we have become the corrupt and morally bankrupt fathers and mothers that we so despised. we have sold out our souls for pension plans and stock options. we laughed while we were doing it. forget all those banal promises. forget that we preached brotherly love and helped our sisters escape the tyranny of chauvinism. what have we wrought?

that poor Indian sitting on the horse was shedding tears for what had become of a land he loved. we now have casinos in place of Native ideals. we have gambling fever. we have gross acquisition syndrome. we raid family assets because we think we are owed something. we penalize those who have saved and reward those who have frittered away money. we can't distinguish between the poor and the lazy. the ignorant and the indifferent the mentally ill and personality challenged the this and the that.

we have politicians who are afraid to make the tough choices - people over property and corporations. education over pork spending. rantings over rights.

how much time do you think we have left? maybe it is already too late.!

Grandeur on a Small Scale

Grandeur on a Small Scale, originally uploaded by unohuu.

yesterday was an incredibly difficult day. more of the same tooth gnashing and cursing and screaming and horrible narcissism. that is just me. the clients were even tougher acts. so after work and dropping off the soccer stuff, i stopped at my little private refuge. a slice of heaven tucked between the city and two suburbs. the quaking bog as it is called. a few acres of quiet and solitude. peace and joy in green and bright colors. croaking frogs and night insects singing mating songs. made my evening.

Life in a Fishbowl

being the child of a celebrity carries its own unique set of problems. you can't have a normal life. people watch everything you do and everything you don't do. you are judged not for who you are but what you are. PK - shorthand for Preacher's Kid and President's Kid. I was the clerical PK....and since i am Jr. as well, it was tough living up to the grander than grand and larger than life expectations. add to this your mother the English teacher in a small fishbowl and the pressures of being the first born son of these two freedom fighting but law-abiding citizens and you have a combo made for neurosis. at least two of us found a way to sublimate the pressures and confusion and have escaped rather unscathed. the rest of my siblings bear the mark of the unmistakable and undeniable strain of living the life that someone else has chosen for you. this is our surmise.

Ms POA has not freed herself from the fishbowl. instead of finding her own life and living it, she clamors for the false adoration; the artificial glory and adulation of the fishbowl...while we tired of the limelight and found solace in books and travel and friends, the rest continued to seek the glare and glory of the light and life in the fishbowl. a small fishbowl i think as well. we were not really all that prominent a family. we did have some aces up our sleeves - famous relatives; a few tough ancestors who were proud to be what they are; intelligence and diligence. we thrived and worked with other survivors. we believed in the common good, decency and self-respect. we believed in hard work, education and persistence in face of even the most challenging situations. we believed that hard work is its own reward. at least these are the lessons i learned. apparently, the other three learned something else. that "me" is more important than "us'. that i am not happy, no one should be happy. that being in the fishbowl is a blessing since i then have no responsibility to others, let alone myself. that finding ways to deflect is more important than finding ways to resolve.

the fishbowl has two lenses. one convex and one concave. the convex lens distorts and makes everything look large. from the concave perspective - inside the fishbowl - everything looks smaller than it is. easier now to understand. those who do not ask the questions about whether or not the fishbowl is a representative of the entire universe are doomed to believe that it simply is. like the Dark Ages, the world is flat is just good enough...even if there are enlightened people telling you that it is not. who would dare question the authority of the sages and the sacred thought police? the penalty might be life!

Always Surprises

My sister and I pull into the driveway and back out so as not to block other cars needing exit space. Ms POA and one of the soon-to-be identified CNAs apparently walk back into the house and lock the door. We come up the driveway and I ring the doorbell. My sister indicates to me that sometimes it does not work...I knock on the metal security gate and I hear Ms POA scream that she is coming from inside the house. She greets me with her falsetto tone and cheery upbeat attitude. (I want to scream back at her that I am tired and utterly frustrated with her conniving and triflin' ways, but I refrain.)

She is so happy because she has a special treat that she has purchased in my honor (no doubt). Of course, my mother was to have been "free" following her return from the secret placed where she is ensconced periodically. But now we are having this wonderful get together for catfish, cole slaw and potato salad. We have to wait though as another party is yet to arrive. (why, I think this was a recent Days of Our Lives drama presentation) The excitement and drama around the fish and fixins' is overwhelming somewhat for my mother. I just want to catch up with her for a minute and hear her side of her Life as Presented by Ms POA and Assoc.

But I am treated instead to a soliloquy about the travails of obtaining this catfish and how it had better be a drastic improvement over last week and how next week it would be a different kind of fish because they are having a special and Mama should sit down and eat the catfish before it gets cold even if she is not hungry because she just finished eating a snack or a meal sometime ago at the place where she is kept during the day so that we can't poison her mind with thoughts of freedom and dignity.

The abuse crew (AC) starts to bombard my mother with petitions to sit down and eat. I think it was implied that she should be grateful that they had gone to all this trouble to get this for her. Let's review this now. CNA on staff and her main job is to hold the TV remote and find creative non-bruise like ways to emotional harangue my mother. They watch the most mind-numbing TV shows and basically disregard my mother as much as they possibly can, with the exception of following Ms POAs torture orders to a "T". Here is an example. My sister's quasi-DP is finally here with the cole slaw. Could not quite put that together until later with some breathing room. She was there for backup - a just-in-case something goes down kind of ally.

The AC could not get Mama to touch any of the food they had brought. She was visibly upset by all the chaos and confusion around her and then they attempt to force feed her some prescribed medication (not from the container) during this moment of total distress. There was some meltdown and some harsh words spoken by the Silken Tongued Vixen. It always amazes me when I hear my mother slip into vernacular (she was such a proponent of the QE, that I had to sniggle a wee bit) and give these folks a piece of her still quite intact, but obfuscated mind.

It was over quickly though. Mama just usually wants someone to listen to her - call it validation or something like that. Talk with her rather than talk to her like a small dependent child. Talk with her about her life rather than talk around her about her condition. She knows about her lapses and does not need to have constant reminders about her increasing inabilities. I tend to think of focusing on her strengths rather than her deficits.

Anyway more drama to continue later. Just think of PAS (Parental Alienation Syndrome) and you will have a wonderful front seat to observe the ongoing follies as the AC struggle to maintain control of an issue beyond their capacities. They are thinking that Dorothy is still in Kansas before the cyclone and the storm they have not prepared for makes Katrina look like a summer rain shower.

Unleash the hounds.

Haven't Got Time for the Pain

Haven't Got Time for the Pain, originally uploaded by unohuu.

going to Hotlanta soon
gonna be a rich kid tycoon.
see my mamma and take her to church
of course that is if Ms POA
does not leave us in the lurch.

freak of control and hubris
that is...plan to see what is going on.


late at night when i am alone with
my thoughts and ideas...i wonder
what God thinks about children who
do not honor mothers and fathers.
especially those who were taught to know
better.

better is all that our parents ever wanted for
their children. better schools.
better jobs, better neighbors, better
opportunites. they succeeded.

Ms POA is an attorney. her younger
brother is a minister. her estranged older
siblings are a social worker and
an international business development
specialist.

of course, as an attorney, Ms POA can't be concerned
with right and wrong. that is not better...just stupid (perhaps).
although i work with them every day, i have little
clue what goes on inside the brain of an attorney.

maybe i could ask...but then i might have to go
through the myriad questions. i think so many think
they are better by virtue of simply having attended
law school. that is not better...that is just (well you know)