Missing the March

Bailey Speaks Out












Bush Go Home


Feeling frisky after leaving Crawford, we bought our plane tickets to Washington, D. C., made our hotel reservations and planned for a reunion with the Military Families Speak Out, CODE PINK, and fellow demonstrators. Of course, being a Texas girl, my travel clothes were all laid out and ready We were abuzz with energy for our next phase of the fight of this war against an absurd war. Then the call came.

A different plane -- one back to Texas to tend my elder mother through her husband's heart surgery, and finding ourselves facing yet another hurricane -- this time not Katrina, but RITA. 4:30 a.m. get up, flight, 2 hour Denver layover, flight, and evening arrival preceeding the next day's 5:15 a.m. trek to the hospital to sit in the family room for 7:00 a.m. surgery. Long days, long trip.

Not exactly Air Force One. But then it didn't cost $ 40,000 an hour either.

But bless George's heart. He was also in the air, on his way to prepare for the oversight of the next storm -- all the way to Colorado Springs and the five-star Broadmoor resort. There must have been great nostalgia, strolling right on the same path around that Broadmoor lake that found him years ago facing the demons. That night, as he wandered, drunker than two skunks, right on the lake, Laura lowered the boom. No more drinkin', George. Find Jesus or find a new wife. Jesus it was. I've never seen anybody squint so hard while in praying mode than George W. He learned his lesson well. He's working hard at it, but then, "it is a hard job."

George not only got to visit the Broadmoor, got to sit in the big chair at NORAD -- military center carved out in the center of the Rocky Mountains where Generals meet to watch the fireworks in their own bomb shelter. I can just see it now. George watching RITA on the big screen, just like the video games that he so loves.

Meanwhile, in Texas our brother in law lay gravely ill in a Houston hospital while RITA raged. Following yet another surgery, he was moved to a windowless ICU room while my sister moved as many personal belongings as possible out of harm's way in their 8th floor apartment of an assisted living complex. Packing her car to the max, and sending Sabastian the Daschund to safety with the children, Martha sat vigil with Bill in Houston, we sat with Mother in San Antonio, and --
missed the march!

We witnessed the sad stories live in Texas. While George frolicked with the Top Guns, thousands of bewildered and frightened Texans attempted to follow orders. A remarkable feat indeed! As they heeded the warning to leave Houston by car, they found themselves stranded without food and water, and absolutely no place to hide -- no place to find safety. After all of the blame levelled against those who did NOT heed the warning to leave New Orleans, one must wonder what on earth "they" at FEMA were thinking. Houston's traffic is grid-locked on a normal day. Thousands of pick ups and SUV's with gun racks changing lanes, shouting, honking and screeching, but somehow making their way. How can anyone assume that an entire city could possibly evacuate at one time through only two routes? Where was the gasoline that was supposed to be "on the way" to support the evacuation along the route???? Yet another national disaster, assisted only by the storm's change of direction. Not by FEMA, not by the government, and certainly not by George's visit to Colorado Springs. As in the aftermath of 9-11, our Commander in Chick-let was safely tucked away thousands of miles away from any action. Surrounded by adoring four-stars. What a guy!

Meanwhile, back in Washington, D. C., we were missing, but well represented. Hundreds of thousands of Americans descended on the city to speak their truth. All ages, all colors, every gender on the scale. All with one message -- No MORE! I watched the minimal television coverage, and saw my friend Rebekah, Chef at Camp Casey beside whom I worked beside for a week, being hauled away in the paddy wagon. I had heard that she was hired as the Chef for the entire bus trip from Crawford to D. C., and loved watching that brief glimpse of her adventure. She is a playwright from Boston, and I will be eager to hear her story!

Our family WAS represented. My brother David, who joined us briefly in Crawford, arrived with his son who fielded "Bye Bye Bush" and "Bring the Troops Home" signs around the White House area.

All while George was conveniently away -- riding out the storm in Colorado.




For more information on how Half a Million People Disappeared in D. C., I am including this story from the Detroit News:

500,000 People Vanish in Washington, DC

By Ron Scott
The Detroit News
Monday 26 September 2005

Imagine 500,000 people marching down the meandering thoroughfares of Pennsylvania Avenue and 14th Street and Constitution Avenue in Washington, DC. They are headed for a date with destiny and the promise of peace, conjoined with a challenge for justice. How could they vanish from the headlines?

Rod Serling, the brilliant creator/writer of "The Twilight Zone," might have written this intro to one of his teleplays during the 1960s. But it didn't happen then. It happened this weekend, with our media, in our country, in our time.

"They came from as far away as Alaska and California," reported Abayomi Azikiwe of the Pan African Newswire, "from Europe to the nation's capital itself, to make a clear statement that United States military forces should withdraw immediately from Iraq. Honest crowd estimates of the demonstration ranged from 500,000-600,000 (some even thought there were more) making it the largest demonstration in the capital since the winter of 2003."

Journalist Azikiwe rode the bus with 200 Detroiters who attended this national anti-war march in Washington, DC and stood on the Mall with thousands who watched speakers ranging from the Rev. Jesse Jackson to Cindy Sheehan to activist Curtis Muhammad from New Orleans. He provided a full report on this historic event.

But the corporate media was nowhere to be found. The demonstration was lost on CNN. It was buried on MSNBC. It barely escaped a muffle on NBC's "Meet the Press" and the old, reliable NPR (National Public Radio). If you had been watching C-SPAN, you would have seen the speakers (but not the march), but how many people watches C-SPAN?

The media failed to cover the largest antiwar demonstration in America since the Vietnam era. That's not happening in "The Twilight Zone." That is reality today.

Where were they? Covering local news at home? In Iraq? Or covering the Ashton Kucher/Demi Moore wedding?

No. They had a date with Rita. Celeb anchorpersons, clad in Tommy Hilfiger and St. John knits, were standing in knee-deep water as a backdrop. How many stories about Rita did we need? It's a tragedy, of course, but in Washington, a challenge to the Bush administration was in full gear, and the cameras, recorders, and reporters' notepads were missing. If it wasn't real, it would be science fiction.

The failure of the media to cover this, perhaps one of the most important events of this young century, challenges those who read this blog and those who consider themselves to be committed Americans on the left, right, and in between, to fight for full disclosure and total coverage of what's happening in our communities throughout the nation. We've seen too many "in-bed-with" media, too many laughing anchorpersons, and too many roving reporters who scream only after the story is over.

The Bush administration needs to be covered, and covered seriously. To any of you who remember history prior to 1980, lesser failures on the part of a President brought his resignation. That was Richard M. Nixon. Today, the chief executive of this country, and an administration which has clearly attempted to silence the media, needs to be accessed, researched, and critiqued - even when the winds are blowing in Texas.

Letter to the Bush Women

Whoaa! Girls! Women of Texas! Where did you misplace your P.R. staff? Where were Tom Delay's comportment classes just when we needed them most?

Laura, your press conference in that squeeky clean refugee center yesterday was, may I say, simply CHARMING! The way you cocked your precious little head, smiled so sincerely and talked about one mother who had lost her daughter, another daughter who had lost her mother, and how both told you how "glad" they were to find refuge in the Cajundome. I was totally touched. Totally. Nothing like a warm cot, a port-a-potty and a lot of company to get the grief process started right off with a bang! No doubt they will forever be consoled by your visit, the pat of your hand, that angelic smile, not to mention the fact that the place was sparkling for a while to prepare for the cameras.

And your assessment of those still stranded in New Orleans, the fact that they are mostly poor and black? "That is just the way it is... The poorer people are usually in the neighborhoods that are the lowest or the...most vulnerable... And that is just always what happens." Thanks so much, Laura. Let us be comforted that what has always been, will always be. How enduring. As long as the "them" is not "us."

Only one tiny little point, though, Laura. The hurricane was named KaTRINA, not KaRINA.

That interview on CSPAN must have come at the end of a mighty exhausting day, since you mispronounced the mighty hurricane's name -- not once, but twice within the two minute interview! The biggest hurricane in history and you couldn't remember the name. Shocking that the main stream media didn't hop right on top of that one and replay it incessantly in prime time! But no problemo, Mrs. First Lady. It isn't like the definition of "is" or anything. The media simply passed on the whole thing. Katrina, Karina, whatever.

P.S. Your hair looked GREAT! Who's 'doing' it these days?

And Barbara, Barbara. Have you lost your edge, Girl? You REALLY don't need to find it "scary" ... that "they" find the Texas hospitality so overwhelming that you hear that "they all" might want to stay in Texas. I promise, promise, cross my heart, they won't get near you, unless to wash your gold leaf china or polish your silver spoons -- or was that a silver foot????

Maybe you are just all overtired. The strain on Houston with all of those refugee types has made things just plain difficult. Traffic is the pits, gas prices are high, another storm is coming, and good help is hard to find. But! with the suspension of the minimum wage, things should loosen up soon, Barbara. Hang in there!

And, Laura, I do soooo understand. You must be lonely. George is having to make all of those pesky fly overs and overnight trips down to the Gulf Coast. I hear that the effort and energy to erect all of those back drop sets for his photo-ops is exhausting work. Not to mention the tear down after the cameras leave. Maybe they should consider leaving the "relief centers" for someone to occupy who might offer assistance.

And, oh, my, the changes of blue shirts so that no one sees him sweat. Aren't you glad you aren't in charge of that? I know, Girl. I was down there. It is hot and muggy, it smells bad, and there is alot of mold setting in. He is doin' a great job of keepin'starched, though. Keep it up, George. Just remember golf on the 16th hole at Augusta and you'll survive the sweat, and maybe the heat.

Not even to diminish the stress of Washington, D. C., Laura! George left you to fend for yourself with only the White House staff to shield you from all of those anti-war commoners arriving from all over the country. Somehow, no matter how engagingly George's staff appreciated their pre-invasion marches as "focus group" activitie, they have not been deterred. Focus groups. How corporate. How George.

And while they certainly seem focused, they have not gone away.

Instead, they descend on the capital saying, "No More!" Tireless, and determined. They will not go away.

Tired, but determined, nor will I.

EC

Oh, George, What a Week -- Buses on the Move - FEMA not!

On the /Road
Three busloads of activists (at least) are traveling through the country on their way from Crawford, Tx. to Washington D. C. Picking up supplies for the Katrina victims along the way. This group seems to multi-task! As Camp Casey Alums, we received a long list of "needs" -- specific and changing daily -- that the Louisiana Veteran for Peace are orchestrating, gathering and sending directly to those in need.

I am INSPIRED to see what humans are doing -- just one between another, facilitated by the internet.

In full motion, we will all gather in Washington, D. C. for a vigil of Veterans for Peace, Veterans Against the War in Iraq and Military Families Against the War, the global peace rally on September 24, ecumenical services on the 25th, and lobby day on September 26th.

I am thrilled to say that when we called to get the "preferred" rate in the Military Families Speak Out hotel, we found that the rate was totally sold out! While personally penalized, we are excited that the place will be full! We are eager to reconvene with other military families who have the courage to step forward and speak out. One of the major gifts of these conversations is that many of us who were in the era of the Viet Nam war see similar catastrophic circumstances, while the concern to oppose this war, along keeping the safety and non-retaliation for our loved ones at the top of our conversation -- is constant. None of us really is sure of how to do what we need to do without harming our dear ones, although many of them have joined us in full force, including a young military officer who just returned from Iraq,a graduate of West Point, and spoke the truth during our time at Camp Casey. I suggested that I would not photograph him, although he was not afraid. He is concerned and puts that first.

One of my major learnings at the Camp Casey gathering is to understand the deep internal struggle that so many of us face as families of active military personnel who have taken oath to serve the country's good, who maintain the faith in the rightness of the "government" at heart, and whom we would not only do nothing to hurt, but are taking extraordinary steps to assist against a government that most of us have battled before in our own era as vulnerable and loyal youth.

It is a strange interweaving of love, caring, and, frankly, awkward conversation. But, in the end, we all must do what we must do. Respect.

And while we are on our journey to stand up for what we believe, George has been busy too. For our son's sake, we hope that he wakes up.

For, before Cindy left Camp Casey, George did as well. Completing his San Diego fundraiser, en route to his baby-kissing, cake-eating safe haven in D.C. (with his new chef on board), he did "drop in," at 1,700 feet, to overlook the devastation and chaos in New Orleans from Air Force One. Now, that is low, that must have been slow, and THAT sounds risky, Dude. Snipers and all.

He looked worried, we are told. However, how could he have known of the impact that would greet him? He only "flew over" and saw rooftops in water. FEMA was no doubt on the way to perform, as it had done so well for Jeb in Florida. And, as he said the following morning, no one would have thought that the levees would break. (Sawyer, 9/2/05). (Except for those who read briefings and national security reports.) Oh, well, who are they that read, anyway?????? Remember 9/11?

Not to worry, George rallied himself after that long day of fundraising and flying, the day after his New Orleans overflight, and played golf. Really. (Palast 9/2/05). You ask how, when a major disaster is in process, the President of the United States could play golf? There is history here.

Golf is apparently a family tradition in the face of great tragedy, because THE DAY following the death of George W's little sister, Robin, from leukemia in 1953, Barbara and George H. W., grieving parents, spent the day golfing. Yes. And, on the second morning following Robin's death, the day after they golfed, they held a brief and bodiless memorial service in the morning before flying back to Midland when they finally revealed to George W. that his sister had, in fact, died, leaving the little precious body for someone else to bury -- absent. (Justin Frank, M.D. 2004.) How to find out that his sister was gone -- just like that. He had no idea, during her entire illness, that she was at risk. He was, simply, told "not to play with her." At the age of six, how do you supppose that prepared him for his ultimate tenure as our President? Do you see any resemblance to his handling of these catastrophic occurances?


But what, with that in mind, do we as military parents tell our children who have shown up for our country that we, as patriots, have taught them to love and to serve? What has happened to us?


Might George W. have severed from himself what it means to "lose" when he actually states,after the horrific scenes that HE WITNESSED in New Orleans, "the country will be better for this."

Which part of our country, exactly? Halliburton? Brown and Root? Bechtel? Certainly not the hundreds of thousands of those "other folks" who will spend the next years of their lives deperately struggling to find a way through the gaunlet of FEMA, find a job, a home, their loved ones, and ultimately rebuild their lives.
Oh, but then we are encouraged to remain eager to see Trent Lott rebuild "one" of his houses,in Pascagoula, Ga. and "it will be fantastic" (George W. Bush). W. can't wait to rock on the porch and ponder all of the wild times that he had in N'Orleens. But that was then, and this is now.

Further, Dick Cheney will celebrate the week, because he has jumped the gun on Lott's fabulous rebuild by purchasing his own hidaway,near the Rumsfeld's place on Cheasapeake Bay. Rumor has it that he will have to take time out from his official crisis duties in New Orleans and places North -- sometime this second week of September 2005 -- mark your calendars -- to close on this "other" home that was listed at $ 2.9 million. Sale price undisclosed.

Take time to read the paper work, Dick. Rove is in a jam in Texas for one of his "places" in Kerr, County, but a woman who answered questions about got fired for answering the phone while her colleague was on vacation this week. Better be connected in Texas to get that job replaced.

So far, Rove is on board, leaks and all.

Oh, but I am leaping too far ahead. We haven't found housing for the hundreds of thousands who are homeless in the Southern blue state. I have heard that the red states are faring better. Mississippi and Alabama. Maybe you can get a post office box.

FEMA CARES.


Notes on the marches: D. C. is organized by United for Peace and Justice (www.unitedforpeace.org). For those of you nearer California, the Peninsula Peace and Justice Center will host a simultaneous large rally and march in San Francisco (www.peaceandjustice.org). For those of you who have told me that you just "don't know what to do," here you go! You will meet like minded folks, make you voice heard, and be spirited in the fact that we CAN take back our democracy. We the people cannot be drowned as a nation. Let us not let them take our voice, and now, more than ever, we need to keep our stamina bouyed, as we have important and worthy competition for media attention, with the appalling tragedy in Louisiana and the coast.

Blessings to all of you who have known WANT. And may we never forget.

EC

Comportment in Texas

The Peace and Justice buses rolled out of Camp Casey, Crawford, Tx. on their way to Washington, D. C. They stop along the way to rally the people, and rally they are!

However, while Cindy Sheehan ended her heartfelt rally in Austin, Tx. attended by 2,000 supporters, she set out to meet with Tom DeLay, who declined, citing that she did not "comport" herself well enough for him to fit her into his very full schedule. I spent a week with her, I completed endless comportment classes in Texas when I was a pre-teen/teen,and, Tom, I have some serious questions for you.

Comportment was a big deal in Texas when I was growing up. We learned to stand in front of groups and articulate, sit with legs crossed at the ankles, wear clear finger nail polish and white gloves. We were trained to set a beautiful table with proper settings of silver, china, crystal, in the proper order, and, in Texas in the 50's we learned that our sterling silver pattern for our hope chest was a signifier for our entire persona! (See the "Twelve Patterns of the Southern Silver Zodiac," A Southern Belle Primer, or Why Princess Margaret will Never be a Kappa Kappa Gamma, Marilyn Schwartz, 1991). We learned the fox trot, the two step, the samhba, the rhumba, and yes -- even the Methodists -- the cha cha. We had program dances, where the boys signed our dance card for each dance, except for one dance when the girls asked a guy! Oh, Drew, how you held me at the age of 12 -- stiff, but hey! It was thrilling.

And I bought into it, Mr. Delay. I was a beauty queen, looking for scholarship to put me through school (unlike those who "had it made.") Runner up to the State Miss America title, I lost my boyfriend to the winner. Well, that was then, this is now. I eventually got through school. We were not taught to question things back then.

At 56 years old, I am making up for it.

So now, I would just like to clarify some things with you, Mr. Delay, whose former life was as an exterminator (purportedly concentrating on bugs). I do not question whether such background qualifies you for the position of Majority Leader of the House of Representatives of the United States, just as the position as head of the Arabian Horse Association might have potentially prepared Michael Brown to be the FEMA director. That one didn't work out too well, but it is a thought.

All of this said, I have a couple of questions about comportment, Mr. Delay. I never had exterminators' children in any of my classes, and we were serious about comportment where I grew up in Lubbock. I am not attempting to place judgment on the profession of exterminating, but to wonder about your placing judgment on the comportment of a woman who is a Catholic Relief Worker, mother, and, from my own experience -- the real deal. So I just have a couple of questions.

Did you attend comportment classes in Texas, Mr. Delay? Is that where you learned to demand/command your private table at restaurants, call out the State Police to chase law makers to New Mexico(against the law), engage with groups that have now been indicted for hiding corporate contributions that facilitated the changing of district boundaries to suit your purposes? Is that where you learned to do the back room deals that have been exposed of late? Unfortunately, with the disaster in New Orleans and the South, business will be desparately good, and you have all of the contacts.

Did the comportment classes teach you to be the "hammer?" You must have been in some other comportment class from the ones I attended. In my classes we learned gentility, respect, and to speak the Queen's English -- "for-ead" instead of "Foore-Head" for the area above the eye brows. Fore head, so crude. So slick.

The second question that I pose, Mr. Delay, is who might have been in your comportment classes who might verify your attendance? In my childhood there were three groups of children who were sometimes traumatized by their parents' professions -- ministers', exterminators' and morticians'. I was a preacher's kid. While I did not know any exterminators children, as I have said, my comportment classes did include the children of morticians, who were quite wonderful people who carried the burden of "those who are marked" along with me. While my folks took care of preparing for the "great beyond," the morticians were actually PREPARING for the other realm. Making way for the transition. Not creating the transition through killing. Extermination vs. mortician.

I am glad that I met those kids who many times followed in their parents footsteps. I dated one guy in high school who drove an ambulance and worked in the morgue. He was a gentle spirit, preparing folks for their transition with dignity, if, in fact, he first could not help save them. He entered the Navy in 1967 and I heard that he was killed in Viet Nam. He was a good kisser, but I don't remember much more. I wonder if he had a girlfriend or wife by the time he died. Or maybe even a child.

As I watch the New Orleans tragedy, I honor those who have stepped up for the grisly and dangerous task of preparing the dead, and am glad that I shared comportment classes, dances, and kisses with them.

I wonder about sharing the same with exterminators. What do you call the area between the eyebrows and the hairline, Mr. Delay? Just a small thing, but important all the same.

Watching your comportment in the congressional realm has not made me more comfortable. Not at all.

I am available to discuss comportment, Tom. Just email me at your convenience. In the meantime, I think I will stick with Cindy!

Thanks, and if your schedules opens up, let me know. I will have my gloves on.

EC