Unexpurgated Texts

One if by land. Two if by sea.

2010-09-03T01:10:00.000-07:00

I am in the Büro. Years ago when I came to Germany to visit Johannes I often spent some time using the Internet in whatever office of whatever advertising company he was working for. Now he owns the company.

I am staying on Hufeland Str. in the same flat that we squatted in a decade ago. Now the building and the street is completely restored. The paint has been stripped from the massive wooden doors. The plumbing and electric redone. There is hot water and showers. There is central heat in the winter. The Jungen Stile (Art Nouveau) facades have been restored. These formally grey buildings used to be pocked marked with bullet holes. The bullets are still there, somewhere inside but they have been covered up with fresh plaster and yellow and white paint.

I remember how we used to line up every morning at the yellow phone booth on the corner. This was the only working phone for blocks around. We would meet our neighbors there and plans were made for the coming day.

I came to Berlin yesterday, from Riga by boat and train. I was on a cargo ship filled with Russian truck drivers. There were a handful of people with cars. Mostly everyone is trying to avoid the legendary traffic jams in Poland. I was the only person who walked on board the ship.

I had to go to Vecmilgravja Terminal a heavily industrialized port on the outer fringes of Riga. Yanis offered to drive me there in the middle of the night. We drove through the desolate cargo yards past the gigantic cranes and freighters at 1am.

I had to wait in the shipping office until all of the trucks had loaded. Then at 3:30am a tiny woman, dressed in black with a very official looking orange safety vest and bright red high heels led me to the gangplank of the Baltic Amber. I was impressed at how she navigated the cobblestones and abandoned rail tracks in spikes.

I was the only passenger to walk on board. There must have been close to 200 rooms on the upper decks of the ship. I had a cabin built for 4 all to myself.

I slept for a few hours and woke to bright sunshine. The sea was calm. From the deck one could see for hundreds of miles in all directions. There were banks of low clouds on the horizon, billowing like the sails of ancient ships. I practiced yoga while Russian truck drivers smoked cigarettes. They watched curiously for a few moments. I heard the word Yoga a few times. Then they quickly lost interest.

That night I slept like a baby to the thrum of the massive engines. In the morning we sailed into Travemunde. It looked like a cross between Monte Carlo and Innsbruck. The beach was lined with empty cabanas. There was a lone high rise hotel that also functioned as a light house. From there I hitched a ride with a car passenger to the local train station. Once you are in the German rail system you are home free.

As we sat on the balcony last evening in Hufeland Str. Johannes asked me: Why Riga?

I told him the story.

Warsaw - Ostro Mazowecki - Bialystok - Augustow - Sulwalki - Marijampole - Kaunas - Panevezys - Riga

2010-08-23T02:38:00.000-07:00

I am in a coffee shop in downtown Riga. Raitis is chatting like mad on his cell and I'm jittery with my second cappuccino. Ilsa is sitting with her baby and glowing as she breast feeds. They are in a three way Latvian conversation, catching up on all the gossip within their circle while I tap away at the keyboard.

Yesterday I came from Warsaw by bus. I gave up on the train. I would have had to catch a train to Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania and that would have been OK. I could have spent the night there and it would also be nice to check out this city. But from there to get to Riga I would have had to take a train to Rezekne. This is this several hundred km further east, way out of the way. For historical geo-political reasons, all of the Riga trains are oriented to Moscow. But why the Politburo never built a connection to Vilnius is a mystery. This train arrives in Resneke at 10pm. The connection to Riga comes at 4am. I would have had to spend the midnight hours in a train station with a name that sounds like a cheap peach brandy. I chickened out.

The train from Berlin to Warsaw is quite decent. I was a little concerned that DB only gave me 7 minutes to make the connection. But the train arrives at both Berlin West and minutes later at Berlin East on a parallel track. The German train right on time. The Polish one a little later.

For some reason I could not fathom the seat numbering system on the Polish train They ran 21 23, 34 37, 42 45 or something like that. They were not 0dd-even, sequential or even possibly Fibonaccian. It made no sense even if I took into account the opposite aisle. I asked a young Polish girl and she laughed. "That's Poland." I ducked into an empty first class cabin and remained there until I kicked back to second class somewhere near the German boarder.

When I booked my train from Frankfurt to Warsaw DB gave me the option of a room at a five star hotel for only 70 Euro per night. The place looked spectacular and had great reviews. I went for it. Train stations in even the best cities attract a certain kind of smashed face scum that would give anybody pause. I was also nervous about the cab drivers and a concerned gentleman on the Warsaw train had warned me about them. It proved unfounded. While the Warsaw Centrala itself was grim I found a friendly face who helped me find a cab. The driver was so nice he wouldn't take my fare. With hand signs and pen and paper he signaled to me that the hotel was only 200 meters away and within easy walking distance. When I got there I was so impressed I immediately booked another night. See. The only thing that sucks about expensive hotels is that they are expensive. Once that is removed from the equation they are fabulous. Besides, I had been on the road for a few days and it was time for a tune up.

The window in my hotel room was gigantic. It had a panoramic view of Warsaw. Directly across the street was the Palace of Culture. It is kind of a cross between The Empire State Building and Big Ben. It was so intriguing that I asked the concierge about it. He told me that The Palace of Culture was a gift from Stalin. He said that Moscow had seven such palaces. He seemed disappointed. I said that Saddam Hussein built 22 palaces in Baghdad so count yourself lucky you only got one. Then he smiled mischievously.

The website for booking a bus to Riga was impenetrable. But the concierge figured the whole thing out for me. He successfully navigated it and booked me a trip by bus that wound wind it's way through Poland, Lithuania and Latvia.

The next morning I decided it would be pretty sorry to spend the day entirely at the hotel and not even try to see the city. The concierge illuminated a map for me in yellow highlighter for a two hour walking tour. It included the old town of Warsaw which looks like it was designed by the firm of Hansel and Gretel. I spent the entire day blissfully walking around the city.

He had also mentioned that there would be a race downtown. I imagined a March of Dimes event, geriatrics wearing pink t-shirts and lots of balloons. But it was not. It was Formulae One racers roaring through the streets. This would never happen in New York. When it comes to public danger we are a nation of pussies. I picked out a nice spot just beyond a bend where there was a possibility of things going tragically wrong.

That evening I could not resist seeing a film at the Technika Multipex in The Palace of Culture. No expense was spared on materials inside this place. There are enormous chandeliers and grand staircases made with thick oak planks. Huge velvet curtains robed every window and entrance. I chose The Doors documentary , with Polish sub-titles.

After the movie I went to the other side of the complex where there was this cosmonaut style disco. It featured a pulsating light panel floor that encircled a fountain. I knew nobody was going to be dancing at ten pm but I had a plan. I would just dance by myself for an hour or so and then head to the hotel. I had to get up at 5am to make my bus.

I was getting my groove on, doing some nice salsa steps, mixed with hip-hop and disco and a touch of modern dance. The patrons were horrified. Finally a gigantic bouncer with a shaved head grabbed me and ushered me off the floor. "Too much alcohol. I know." he said. "No, I'm just dancing." He was mystified. I turned around and walked out.

I passed the holiday in and there was thumping music coming from the second floor. I could see the shadows of dancers in the multi-colored light bouncing off the window. I would crash it. It was a wedding. I congratulated the bride as I passed her sipping champagne, just outside the dance floor. As I reached the entrance a rather plain girl, dancing by herself, invited me to join her. I did. I spun her around for two or three minutes when another shaven headed bouncer grabbed me. The girl intervened and he turned began shouting at her. Again I walked out.

As I left I passed a group of young women wearing sparkling red devil horns. One of them approached me gesturing and talking in Polish but I had no idea what she was going on about. Down the block I passed another group of women with the same head gear. This time the leader spoke English. She insisted that I kiss her friend. They encircled us while she sweetly kissed me on the cheek. This brought on a round of hysterical laughter.

Friends cautioned me that the Warsaw women are not very beautiful. I disagree. There is great beauty that is distinctly Polish. The classic oval face. The fair complexion. Tiny but full lips. Brightly lit blue and brown eyes. But there are two things they should know. Never wear high heels and blue jeans. Just don't. Especially with a huge belt buckle. Also, there should be a five year moratorium on use of all hair coloring products. It's time to reassess.

I left for the bus at 5:30am giving myself ample time for confusion. This was wise. The cab driver brought me to Warsaw East not West even though I thought I had made that clear. I had to first find out what was wrong then jump in a cab and race across town. Fortunately I made it with 5 or so minutes to spare. The bus was filled with Russians. It must be part of a migration route for Russians working in Germany. It starts in Bern, Switzerland and winds it's way through Germany and Lithuania before ending up in Riga. There it stops and the tribes split for destinations north to Moscow and St. Petersburg. It takes days to make the full journey. They had a video player on board with two screens. We were treated to an endless Moscow meets Vegas style musical review. The acts ran the gamut from tragi-pop to hip hop. This was followed by a mini-series soviet generational epic.

Note to Russian rappers: knit hat so obviously made by your babushka is lame.

There was a menu with not completely horrible food. There was a bathroom that didn't reek and there was toilet paper. We stopped every hour for a bathroom break. I did yoga on the periphery while almost everybody else smoked cigarettes. I saw the great flat expanse of Poland and the ruined cities that still have not recovered from Nazi and Soviet occupation. I can confirm that Coke and McDonalds are indeed everywhere.

At around six pm, one hour early, I arrived in Riga.

Grecian Odyssey

2010-08-17T00:56:00.000-07:00

I am now in Ermoupolis. The city of Hermes.

It is filled with slender windy streets lined with old mansions. At some point in history somebody sprang for marble roadways. The plazas are lined with cafes and palm trees. There are cement docks off the rocks below and in the morning you can see the old timers bobbing in the clear Aegean.

I am staying in a 200 year old place called Ipatia Guesthouse. It reminds me of The Harlem Flophouse. No air-con, phones or tv, just high ceilings, huge windows, a chandelier and a whirring fan at the foot of my cast iron bed. Oh and wi-fi.

I spent the last week in Kythnos. I was with friends of Maria Elena. She passed me off to my new hosts. I was in the fancy pants Yachting town of Louitra. The hotel was a little expensive but it is high season and there are only a limited number of rooms in this little village. What is nice about it, and has been my experience everywhere in Greece so far, is that even in a little town there will be a main square jammed with cafes and restaurants. Social life includes everybody not just the mating -agers and at 1 am you will still see little old ladies and men on their wooden chairs, talking and smoking, and children running the streets.

There is a dive center in Kythnos. The dive captain is in a wheelchair, due to a motorcycle accident I am told. When there is a dive they make a little parade in their wet suits down the main street. The captain rolling along in front. One evening I went on a night dive. Myself and the other diver Stan, were bare chested our suits hanging at our waist as we made the walk of honor. Because it was night time a little throng of town-folk followed us to old stone bridge at the end of the harbor. They wanted to watch us plunge into the murky waters. Among the others were a group of dirty kids, two little old ladies in house dresses and slippers, a man with a straw hat and a cane and pregnant girl holding a baby. Stan and I were helping each other on with our weight belts, checking our mask, fins, pressure gages, hoses and the like when somebody yelled out "Not even a bride takes so long to get ready."

As in Kea, the preceding island, every day we went to a different beach. I asked Spentzos why this was, every one seemed great to me. He went over the criteria. There has to be shade. The water clear, the beach clean. And most important... there has to be NO people. Whenever we approached a beach descending a dusty rocky road from on up high, if there was even one person, with an umbrella tied to rocks, he would sigh in exasperation. I told him that in NYC if there are fewer than 25 people that counts as nobody showing up. He laughed. There must be thousands of beaches in Kythnos alone so his quest is a life long one.

Every day has also included a new taverna. Each one with its own specialties. We eat late at night ordering numerous plates for the table. Everyone diving in everywhere. There is always a loaf of freshly baked bread. Thankfully also this usually includes pureed fava with fresh green onion sprinkled on top, a plate of warm sun ripened melon, and a spinach like green called horta served with wedges of fresh lemon. There have been tasty empanadas filled with eggplant or capers or cheese with fresh mint, baked stuffed eggplant and tomatoes (just like my mama Thanos claimed) and smoky charcoal grilled pork chops.

Tomorrow I will take the boat to Riraeus and from Athens and then fly to Frankfurt. On Friday I will take the train to Warsaw and spend a night there. Then, according to the rail map, I go to Kaunas in Lithuania connecting to Riga.

Calliope

2010-03-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

It began on Wednesday of last week with a flurry of gigantic snowflakes. They looked like goose feathers. My friend Dawn's mother commented as we watched from the window of The Harlem Flophouse, "I've never seen such big snowflakes." She is 75 and has lived her entire life in Massachusetts near the New Hampshire boarder.

I had picked up Calliope from the hospital that morning. She was not in good shape. She was weak from being caged. She had a bad cold. She had lymphatic cancer. There was no possibility of a cure. The doctor was recommending euthanasia. She purred gently in my arms. I asked if I could take her home for just one night.

I didn't want to get a cat but my place was filled with mice. An endless stream of them. I was killing 10 a week, catching them in glue traps and drowning them in the toilet. Finally I caved and Calliope, a homeless feline from the East Village, was welcomed into my house. It was like the Taliban had rolled into town. For two days there were headless mice everywhere. Since that time. Not one.

I got used to having a pet. I liked it. She was always around and that means something. She used to like it when I made a fire. She would poke her nose up the chimney in wonderment. Then she would jump onto the couch, grabbing the best spot in anticipation of the warmth that would soon flood the room. She also liked acoustic guitar and would curl up on the couch next to me when I played. She appreciated the calm vibrations of a yoga practice, sprawling out on the floor nearby, tuning into the proceedings. But her favorite thing was to be brushed while she ate. Then she purred like a little tigress.

Like any 10 year relationship it was pock-marked with regrets. The first year of her internship she was waiting by the door when I returned home from my summer travels. "Look at that. She knew I was coming." I marveled aloud. Anna, one of my tenants retorted: "She's been waiting there by the door for you every hour for the last two months." Calliope purred contentedly on my lap and then she bit me and walked off. That's how it was. As the years went by she became less forgiving and more aloof after my absences. Weeks after I returned she would stand outside the room starring at me, keeping just out of reach when I went to pet her. She knew disappointment.

On Thursday as the snow piled up outside she seemed to have bounced back a little. She was sleeping peacefully in her favorite spot, by the radiator on her blanket. I put off her appointment for another day.

Friday morning she was worse. She was lying in her own piss and shit even though her litter box was just a few feet away. She was choking on her own mucus. I scrubbed the dried yellow snot from her face so that she could breath. I decided it was time. It had continued to snow through the night. No car would come for me. I cleaned her up as best I could. I packed her into her carrier and trudged out into the snow. She peered up at me and cried as snowflakes fell around us.

Nothing prepares you for that little back room with the metal table. We all must go there some day. That's guaranteed. I held her down while she cried. In a second it was over. A stream of yellow piss her last expression.

That night I went out. I stayed out and danced until 5am. As dawn approached I made my way to the subway. It had stopped snowing. The sidewalks had been cleared by an enormous civic effort, mountains of snow on either side.

Now the house is filled with empty creaks. I used to attribute all of those shifting boards to her. Or maybe it is her footfall I am hearing on the steps. For 10 years she was always here to greet me. Regardless of my worthiness.

2009-06-21T14:39:00.001-07:00

2009-04-17T09:35:00.001-07:00

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2009-02-06T12:27:00.001-08:00

peaceful evolution

2009-01-26T12:06:00.001-08:00

During the fall of 08 I traveled to Lehighton PA to help set up a satellite office for the Obama Campaign. I was invited by the local volunteers to accompany them on a bus trip to the inauguration. This is the video I made of that trip.

2009-01-17T21:09:00.001-08:00

2009-01-11T11:54:00.001-08:00

Amber groome outsider art fair

2009-01-05T17:21:00.001-08:00

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2008-12-31T22:53:00.001-08:00

2008-12-28T12:54:00.001-08:00

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San Jose

2008-12-18T11:14:00.001-08:00

I took Cal Tran from San Francisco to San Jose. Caitlin picked me up there. I felt lucky because the sun was shining and I got to see Babe the giant muffler man. I don't know if the locals worship him, but they ought to.

Muir Beach

2008-12-17T13:48:00.001-08:00

This is the view from ontop a crest just south of Muir beach. These people have nothing to complain about. The coastline around here reminds me of Greece.

Victorians

2008-12-16T16:48:00.001-08:00

There are so many wild Victorians in the Mission District. Here is another. They are still not unentirely affordable. The Inn San Francisco where I stayed had 14 bedrooms in the main house and another six in the cottage. There were six little theaters within walking distance, hundreds of restaurants and three used book stores all in a row.

Look at this one.

2008-12-16T16:30:00.001-08:00

Another Victorian in the Mission District, San Francisco. The only way it could be better is if it was made of sand.

Another beauty.

2008-12-16T16:27:00.001-08:00

I am getting so many ideas for my cabin in Greenwood lake. I want to buy some cheap wreck there and build a minature Victorian like this one. If you analyze them you see they are just boxes with a lot of ornamentation. Most of the details are repeated, which means they can be mass produced and repeated. There must have been wood carving and lathing companies that cranked this stuff out at one time.

Simplicity

2008-12-16T16:23:00.001-08:00

For this neighborhood ( around 21st and South Van Ness) this is simplicity. Yes, this is elegant and understated.

There's Santa

2008-11-27T07:43:00.001-08:00

This year in aught 8 Santa was unable to cast his spell of greed. The stores in New York City are empty. A friend of mine reminded me of a song I used to like to sing that went like this:

Shopping and grabbing and buying and shopping and charging and spending and taking and shopping
It's the most wonderful time of the year.

Wierd old ones

2008-11-27T07:41:00.001-08:00

I don't know where these balloons came from but they have been in the parade forever. That marxist star on the forehead is the symbol for Macy's and I'm guessing they are creepy little elves.

Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

2008-11-27T07:00:00.000-08:00

This is just a little one. I think its suppose to be a clown matryoshka.

My brother came up to visit for Thanksgiving. I asked him if there was anything special he wanted to do.
"See the parade." He said.
"Hmmm. Good idea." I said.
"When do we have to go?" He asked me. He remembered that as children we left with my grandfather from the Bronx at about 6am in order to get a spot. We had chicken liver, onion and mayo sandwiches in a baguette. My grandfather also brought along a thermos of hot, sweet, milky espresso. Even though we were kids we were allowed to drink it. It was my first exposure to European culture.
"Around 9." I said.
"9?"
"Don't worry." I said. "I know how to do it."

The next morning we pumped up the junkers I keep under my stoop and biked down to Central Park. It was blocked off and there was no traffic. At about 75th street we got off and locked up the bikes. We wandered over to the 10 foot high stone wall that separated us from CPW and the parade. We could hear the bands and the cheering and the announcer shouting.
"Louisville East. Enter the parade!"

I stood under a low hanging branch nearby.
"We have to do this quick." I jumped up and grabbed the branch. Then I walked up the stone wall until my feet were over the edge. I shimmied forward until the greater part of my butt was over then I was able to turn over and stand on top of the wall. I reached down and grabbed my brothers arm and pulled him up and over with me. A crowd of people came running over trying to repeat our stunt. The cops were right behind them. They chased them all away.
"You have to come down from there." The fat little policeman shrieked at us.
"Ok." I said and we jumped down onto the parade side.

Now we were behind the bleachers on CPW. Nobody from New York City ever gets a seat at these bleachers. I have never met anybody who has sat there. They are all filled with rich people from the suburbs or the exurbs or North Dakota who know somebody who knows somebody. Fortunately being rich many of them are shocked to find out that the parade is outside and that outside is cold. They don't last very long and there are always some empty seats around. So we crawled along under one of the bleachers until we came to an empty spot. I have learned that as long as I ask one invited person on the bleachers if it is alright for us to sit in the empty spot and as long as that invited person says yes that it is then socially acceptable for us to occupy those empty seats.

That's what we did. Without getting up early. Without know anybody who knows someone who knows somebody we had front row seats to the greatest parade on earth. Oh yes. If you have never been there then you do not know. It's not just the bands of 76 trombones playing and marching exactly in time. Its not just the old TV or movie stars that you thought for sure were dead and have been summoned back for one last public appearance. For me it is the spectacle of those giant balloons moving down CPW. That cannot be captured on TV or even in the movies. They used to be even bigger but then a couple of years ago they lost control of one of those monsters and it killed somebody. Well, it knocked over a lamppost and the lamppost killed somebody when it dropped down on them. Or I think maybe they were just brain dead. Still. I like the idea of them being dangerous.

Graphitti

2008-11-26T14:53:00.001-08:00

This wall in Chelsea is really reaching a climax. I have learned that in NYC they can dissappear at any time so now I am making some effort to record them.

Vultures

2008-11-26T14:50:00.001-08:00

What happens is that if you have a bike in perfect repair chained up in New York City pretty much nobody bothers it. This bike on the corner of 124th and St Nick. had a flat tire. It that happens to you take it inside carry it up those 5 flights and don't put it out before you fix it. Once it is wounded the vultures move in. Piece by Piece they pick it apart until it accelerates and over night just a few of the bones are left.

Schadenfreude

2008-11-07T07:33:00.000-08:00

I saw this in the New York Times today. It is an article about McCain aides commenting on Sarah Palin's conduct during the campaign:

By the end of the week, their complaints had escalated considerably, with Fox News quoting unnamed McCain campaign officials as saying that Ms. Palin had not known that Africa was a continent, not a country, and claiming that she did not know which countries were covered by the North American Free Trade Agreement.

Ms. Palin told reporters in Alaska that the anonymous criticism was "cowardly," and that she had discussed the campaign's position on Nafta at her debate prep sessions.

"I remember having a discussion with a couple of debate preppers," she said. "So if it came from one of those debate preppers, you know, that's curious. But having a discussion about Nafta — not, 'Oh my goodness, I don't know who is a part of Nafta.' "

"So, no, I think that if there are allegations based on questions or comments that I made in debate prep about Nafta, and about the continent versus the country when we talk about Africa there, then those were taken out of context," Ms. Palin said. "And that's cruel and it's mean-spirited, it's immature, it's unprofessional, and those guys are jerks, if they came away with it taking things out of context and then tried to spread something on national news. It is not fair and not right." —New York Times

This is the woman who sneeringly called Barack Obama a Socialist after he made an off hand comment he made about "spreading the wealth around".

This is the woman who accused Barack Obama of "palling around with terrorists", because he had a passing acquaintance with Bill Ayers.

This is the woman who, when crowds at her rallies called for the assassination of her opponent, just stood there smiling and winking.

Sarah Palin... Boo Hoo

Election Night

2008-11-04T23:50:00.000-08:00

Around 6pm the returns started coming in. I was at the Penn Forest office. There were four volunteers there and we were all working the phones. I had my browser pointed to the New York Times electoral map. The exit polls were showing Obama with a breath taking lead. I got up and stood in the archway to the back office where everyone could see me and made an announcement:
"Ok, now we all know that exit polls can be deceiving but The Times is showing Obama winning 64 percent to McCains 33."
Everyone cheered.

I went back and sat at my desk. I looked at the map and blinked. I looked hard. I had gotten it exactly backwards. Not only that Indiana, our candidates home state was turning pink. Indiana. McCain was slaughtering Obama. I felt an emptiness in my stomach like a black hole and it was sucking the universe out of me. The mood was so light. Everyone was so cheerful I didn't have the heart to tell them. Donna came over to my desk.
"I'm going to eat the leftovers you want some?" She asked gaily. My hands were trembling. My forehead was hot and sweaty.
"No, I'm ok. The race is tightening up." I managed to squeak.
"What time are we going to quit calling?"
"Are orders are to call until 8, after the polls close we standby in case we have to call Nevada or something."

For the next hour I could barely press the buttons on the phone. When I tried to speak to voters I felt like screaming at them. They had all betrayed us. They had all lied. They were all lazy. They were racists. I was lazy. I hadn't done enough. It was my fault. Mine. Mine Mine. I wanted to smash the phone deep into my eye.

Everyone else was laughing and chatting in the other room. Then around 7:15 or so dared to look at the electoral map again. I realized that I had mistaken Kentucky's returns for national returns. Then I saw that I had confused Iowa with Indiana. Indiana was blue. It was Iowa that was pink. Then Texas and Florida began to turn a faint blue. A rush of relief flooded through me. I began zipping through the phone calls. We reached a lady who had hit a deer. Her car was disabled and she couldn't drive to the polls. I googled her address and printed out a map. I sent one of our local volunteers out to go get her. It was ten to eight and everyone was still calling. I told them they could quit anytime and nobody did. We were on a mission. At one minute to eight I dialed another number.
"You never know." I thought. "They might live right next to their polling place and forgot or lost track of the time or just need one little more push."

By eight things were looking good. I called the field organizer to report in.
"Fox already called to for Obama." she cheered.
Fox. The evil empire and they were bowing to the negro god. We lounged around the office, watching the Internet. listening to NPR. Then we packed up and headed back to Jim Thorpe.

My cell phone kept going off. I was getting text message after text message of congratulations.

We all met at JT's steak house. The self proclaimed home of the $15.95 steak. We were laughing and hugging each other in our corner. The rest of the bar was filled with sour faced losers. Shortly after 11pm John McCain conceded.
"He did the right thing." I said. " That was the best speech he's given in years. I'm glad he did it so early too. He redeemed himself a little."
Then Obama came on. He rocked the house.

A text message came in on my phone:
"Harlem is throbbing with excitement and joy. Car's are honking down the street, people are screaming Obama, it's amazing."
I wished I was back home. Another message came in:
"Is it crazy where you are? It's like Times Square here."
"No." I thought. I looked up at the Pennsylvania moon casting shadows over the mountains of Jim Thorpe. "But it's OK."

Joy

2008-11-04T18:05:00.001-08:00

Joy is a registered republican. She sings in the church choir. She works at the office that we were using for We had many discussions about abortion. I explained to her how one can be both anti-abortion and pro-choice. That made her think.

She came into the office around 6pm and I asked her if she had voted.
"Yes." She said. "I decided to let god make my decision. I prayed all day."
"Oh. So how did god vote?"
"I rode to the polls and tried to think about nothing. When I went into the booth my eye went right to Obama. When I exited I realized that I didn't even see John McCain on the ballot."

Right To Vote

2008-11-04T15:07:00.000-08:00

Early on today we were hearing about voter intimidation at the polls. I rode out to one of the nearby polling places and the Republican line watcher shook my hand.

"Thank you for all you've done." He told me.

Rollercoaster

2008-10-31T12:11:00.001-07:00

Some days I wake up and the last thing I want to do is get out of bed.

When I do get up the first thing I do is practice yoga for an hour. I sit down for breakfast. I play guitar. I take a long shower. I lather up with scented soap. I shave. I massage coconut oil into my hair. I put on my scent, Eternity by Calvin Klien. I dress. Then I get in the car and head for the office. I leave antique Jim Thorpe nestled in autumnal golden brown hills and gripped with fear I head for Lehighton.

Everyday there is like a roller coaster. Like last night, when I was talking to an undecided.
"Are there any issues in particular that concern you" I asked.
"Yeah, Health Care."
I started to explain the different aspects of Senator Obama's stance on Health Care. I started with the states initiative to expand coverage to children that Senator Bob Casey had talked so passionately about.
"Yeah, C.H.I.P.s My kids are covered already. I got paralyzed on one side of my body and the insurance company says it was a pre-existing condition. They said I got it from lying on my sofa chair."
I started to tell him about how part of Senator Obama's plan was to eliminate that exception. But before I got two words out of my mouth he interrupted me again.
"I don't care about that. You democrats that's all you do. It's just a load of double talk."
"Sir. If you could just let me explain..."
"No you listen to me." He was screaming. "The judge changed the decision on the bench. He even let a doctor change his testimony over the phone and you guy's just go on and on about Health Care for other people's children. That doesn't concern ME."
I laughed. The laughter was genuine and spontaneous. He had completely taken me by surprise.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I'm sorry." I said. "I never heard that before. You don't care about other peoples children?"
"Now you've done it. Now you've really ticked me off. Now you WON'T get my vote."

I know I am not the best person for this job. I let myself get painted into a corner and then I don't know how to get myself out. When I first decided to go to a battleground state they asked me what my greatest strength was. Then they asked me what my greatest weakness was. I thought for a moment.
"I spend a lot of time reading and educating myself on the issues. When I talk to someone who's knowledge runs as deep as the latest sound bite from Fox News I just think they are ignorant and not worth talking to. I don't imagine that is going to be very effective."

Then there are days like yesterday when I spotted a little old lady peering through the door. She was perfectly coiffured. She had on a plaid wool jacket with large brown buttons. On her lapel was a gold jeweled pin of a rose. She had a cane. I went and opened the door.
"I hope I am not intruding." She asked elegantly.
"No not at all. What's up?"
"I would like to help. I like that Obama. We need new ideas."
"Sure." I said. I sat her down and gave her a form to fill out. She looked up at me with crystal grey eyes and smiled.
"I hope you know you are getting a life long Republican to volunteer for you."

That is what it is like. Every day. By the end of it I am paralyzed. Exhausted. But at nine P.M. I wrap it up and I am happy. I race back to my Victorian hideaway. I have a cup of mint tea. I turn on the old TV that Louise has painted pink and glued doilys to. I have learned to keep it tuned to Turner Classic Movies. I do not stray. Beyond that there is only more turmoil.

Kanjorski

2008-10-25T07:41:00.000-07:00

photo by Ron Rabenol

When I met him he took both of my hands in his. He has these big powerful hands like a sailor. I mean the kind of sailor who was used to pulling ropes on a wooden ship. I told him that I was the guy who put the Lehighton office together. He looked me in the eye and said:
"I hear you are doing great things."
So naturally I thought him a decent man.

He asked me what I needed. I told him we needed signs. The locals were fixated on the sign war. These giant McCain/Palin signs really made them feel defeated and the ubiquitous LOU signs were just more stray buckshot.
"Is that all?" He said.
"I don't know sir, can you somehow get these people to volunteer?"
He turned me over to his assistant who had some impossible name like Heather Feather. She had the manicured look of an airline pilot. I gave her my details.

I had to leave before he gave his speech in the cellar of the AmVets hall. The Hall had been built in the 50s and nothing had changed about it except that it had acquired a 5 decade coat of coal dust. Veterans quietly drank upstairs in a long dimly lit bar. The were waited upon by women who still sported the bouffant hairdos of their distant youth.,

The rain was coming down in torrents as I drove back to Lehighton. Later I heard that Kanjorski's speech, along with an indictment of the Bush regime as imperialist, included a plea for volunteers. The next day, the hard core democrats,, the ones who snorted at me when I talked about phone banking and canvassing, began showing up.

Sorry about the over the top style Marin. But I needed to get that written anyways.

Me and Bob

2008-10-19T14:01:00.001-07:00

Senator Bob Casey came to the Lehighton office today. His big tour bus with 22 members of his extended family pulled up in front of our office. Even the patrons of the biker bar were in awe. They thought it was Obama himself.

He gave an impressive speech. There was a magical feeling in our tiny office as he stood on the dais and address the crowd of volunteers. I wondered where they all came from. Why don't they show up for phone banking? Casey has a way of making the connection between what happens in Washington and how it manifests itself in Lehighton. He recounted the tale of how he and his fellow senators including some conservative Republicans had put together a bill to expand health care coverage to children.

"There are 925 children in that program here in Lehighton and I know there are hundreds more that need it. George Bush vetoed that bill. John McCain voted against it and applauded that veto. We need a president in Washington who will sign that legislation."

My goal was to get one of those self made photos with him but between the security and the volunteers I didn't think it was going to happen. Then it happened. Casey and his family had gone out to canvass door to door with the rest of our people. They came straggling back in in ones and twos. I was coming up from the cellar and there he was sitting in a chair by himself.
"Hey" I said. "Mind if I get a shot of us?" Katie a 17 year old intern from the Hazleton office offered to snap it. "No, no, no." I said. " I can do it.

I put my arm on his shoulder and held my cell phone up. Katies Jaw dropped. I snapped it.
"You're doing a hell of a job here." He told me with what seemed like genuine warmth. He walked out and on to the bus.
"Oh my god." Katie said. "You totally popped his Myspace cherry."

"Not bad." I thought as the bus pulled out. Last Saturday I walked into an empty office went down to the cellar and cleaned the toilet. Today a senator from the state of Pennsylvania was sitting on it.

The Parade

2008-10-18T11:12:00.000-07:00

Linda and Roy Chrisman organized this float for the Halloween parade in Lehighton. It is supposed to be a switchback train car. Jim Thorpe had a steam and gravity powered one back before the turn of the century. Kind of like a rollercoaster for loggers. They put a cardboard cut out of Obama in the back of the float, as if he is on a whistle stop tour. Almost everyone in town came out for the parade. One reason is that almost all the marchers throw free candy out to the crowd. The kids know this and were out there in force. And there were lots of marchers; a couple of motorcyle gangs, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, a guy like easy rider with a huge flag attached to his bike, little girl acrobats doing all kinds of impossible flips and handstands, an armada of classic cars, and plenty of giant trucks.

At the last minute Roy came up with the idea of having a man in an Obama mask, surrounded by secret service agents, waving to the crowd behind the float. The mask they got was unbelievably magnetic. You could see it from a mile away. The smile was just beaming. I trailed along behind the float to gage the crowds response. The McCain float was just a bunch of big signs. You can't get health care from the Republicans. You can't get out of Iraq or sensible regulation of industry, but you can always get a free giant sign. People didn't react much to them but the Obama mask drew cheers and laughter and mockery.

Free Phones

2008-10-17T08:23:00.000-07:00

Volunteers are starting to come into the office more and more to phone bank. We only have two phones and one laptop from the DNC. We need to get more resources or we won't be able to utilize the manpower. I called around trying to get some quotes from the phone company. Verizon wanted $1100 for one month, eight lines, unlimited local service. That was just for activation. Tony, a union guy, said he would come in and do all the wiring for free. Tony said to me:
"Just between you and me. Why don't you try Vonnage."
I called them and the problem was that with all of the start-up costs it came out to being only a hundred or two less.

Ron said he had some ideas on donations, but the best he could come up with was $500 from Keith McCall's campaign. Then I was riding down 433 and saw this swirling blow up doll next to a huge sign. FREE PHONES.

I told the lady I only needed service for a month. She said:
"That's OK, as long as you cancel within thirty days you don't have to pay anything."
"Nothing? I can cancel for any reason?"
"Well if its a complaint about service we might try to give you another phone."
"But other than that, If I cancel by November 17th I don't have to pay anything?"
"Right."
"And the phones are free?"
"After the rebate."
"I don't have to return them even if I cancel?"
"No. You own them."

So I got the family plan for 5 phones. I got a plan for 6000 thousand minutes each. Donna and I filled in all of the rebate forms and cut the bar codes off the boxes and photocopied everything and mailed it all in. I had to pay $265 dollars up front for the phones but I get $250 back. Total cost for 5 lines, $15. And the DNC coughed up two more cells for us.

Ron said to me:
"How do you sleep at night?"
"The sign said 'Free Phones' Ron."

My birthday cards

2008-10-16T17:35:00.000-07:00

Ardana made all of these bookmarks for my birthday. She told me:
"You're girlfriends not gonna be mad I did this for you is she?"

Nice presents

2008-10-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

Front Window

2008-10-14T20:15:00.001-07:00

There it is. In the corner you can see the entrance to the biker bar that is next door. I think it's called The Last Chance or something I forget. The night of the day I hung the portrait was particularly rowdy night. I think on Tuesdays they have 20¢ drafts and all the free Johnny Cash you can listen to. The Lehighton bikers are not a nice young bunch of men. Actually some of them are quite old with long white beards. I was standing out side when one of them, while putting on his helmet screamed at me.
"What are you, a nigger lover?"

What Is In The Box

2008-10-14T10:53:00.001-07:00

The portrait of Senator Obama arrived today. Dawn wrapped it so nicely I could not resit waiting to open it. Chris lost the coin toss so she went over to the laundromat to dump off both of our over stuffed bags. When she came back Kim was there along with some other Volunteers for the unvieling.

As I was hanging it up a guy with a blonde pony tail drove by in a white pick up truck.
"Right on!" he yelled as he was cruizing by. He parked and came in immediately with one of his construction buddies to volunteer. Sometimes even I am surprised by the kind of people who support Obama. Like the hunter who came in and offered to make venison stew for all of us. Or the 40 year republican guy who couldn't take McCain's "dirty smear tatics."

I was training one of the volunteers in making persuasion calls. Her name is Mary. I was telling her about how you did'nt need to be a policy wonk. I told just tell people why you are supporting Obama.

"Well." she said. "I'm 19 years old and my father just died and left me with nothing. I'm living on my own and waiting on tables. I'd like to go to school but I just can't afford it. I can't even afford to go to a community college. My mother is even worse off than me. I think Barack is gonna change all that."

I hear a story like that every day. Like Don who came in to phone bank with us. He has had four brain surgeries. There is a quarter sized welt on his head in each spot where they went in. He got a virus inside his head, became gravely ill and was fired by his company. His insurance provider which he had paid into for 20 years refused to cover him. He sued and won. He said he would come in and help as much as possible before Monday. On Monday he is scheduled for his 5th surgury.
"I might not be able to come anymore after that. I just hope I get to vote."

There was also Helen Gula whom I met canvassing. She is a proud Obama supporter surrounded by McPalin people. She told me that before her husband died she has said to him.
"Joe, you are all I got. If you die I got nothing." They had both immigrated from Checkoslovakia. He told her that it wasn't true, that she would be allright. He was a veteran from World War Two and when he did die she was right. She had nothing. It was her good fortune that a man from the VA took an interest in her case and won her benifits. She knew him from her church. Now she gets $700 a month.
"Thank god the house is paid for." She says. Currently her montly heating bill is $437 a month and still she pays taxes.

Talk about a foot long

2008-10-13T19:56:00.000-07:00

At Molly Maguires you can partake of this gigantic sandwich for free. As long as you are willing to listen to the locals scream at the coaches on Monday Night Football.

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Christine Griffin <cag743@hotmail.com>
Date: Mon, Oct 13, 2008 at 10:12 PM
Subject: IMG00054.jpg
To: "renecalvo@gmail.com" <renecalvo@gmail.com>

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

New Digs

2008-10-12T11:52:00.000-07:00

I switched over the ridge to Jim Thorpe PA. Jim Thorpe has been colonized by New Yorkers for the past 30 years. It is nestled in the nook of a little river bed surrounded by mountain views. The main street is filled with restored Victorian homes. Most of them have been transformed into galleries, coffee shops, restaurants and Bed and Breakfasts. There is an old Opera house now used for third tier rock bands. For instance, Blue Oyster Cult is playing there on Halloween. They have an antique locomotive that ferries tourist in from surrounding villages. It was a great tourist destination at the turn of the century. Back then it was nicknamed little Switzerland.

I was walking up the main street when I saw a "Vacancy" sign on one of the B & Bs. The place is called Victori-ann's and I'm sure there are better pictures on the web. I thought it would be cost prohibitive but I couldn't resits knocking. I was met at the door by the owner Louise. Louise has a shock of white hair on top of her cherubic elderly face. She is 84. She still does most of the work. She has a big fat dog named Molly who loves to have her belly scratched. The entire place is decorated with the belief that there can never be enough bric a brac. Ever. Her color scheme rarely strays away from pink and lavender.

"I thought I turned that damned sign around." Louise told me in her gravely voice. She used to be a cabaret singer in New York during the thirties and forties. Her son and grand daughter are still in show business.

We hit it off quickly and she made a deal with me that I could not refuse. It does include one Saturday where I may have to sleep on the couch but for the most part I am staying in the same room. I have a little veranda where I catch a tiny fragment of a wi-fi signal so I can sit and catch up on my blog. I help her take out the trash and I walk the dog now and then.

The office is up and running now with just barely enough supplies to make it to the next day. The town is pitching in and every day people bring us new things. The volunteer core is growing. I am so tired I cannot even imagine how I will make it to November 5th.

Bulk Food

2008-10-12T10:08:00.000-07:00

I was so excited when I saw the Bulk Food aisle at Giant. Then I rounded the corner and saw these bins stretching on as far as the eye could see.

for blog

Ron

2008-10-12T10:00:00.000-07:00

Ron is awesome. He is a 5th grade teacher her in Lehighton. Can you believe he had these patriotic flag buntings in his cellar. He also brought over cleaning solutions, folding chairs, speaker wire, a hammer, a coffee maker and painted the bathroom floor. Yeah, among other things. He also is one of the handful of Jim Thorpers who will go out and canvass.

Great

2008-10-12T09:40:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Lehighton. This goes in the one picture = 1000 words category.

Joan

2008-10-11T15:30:00.000-07:00

I met Joan at the Thrift shop. Her pants also match her outfit. She just got over a bad case of E Coli poisoning from a local fast food joint. She was thrilled when I asked if I could take her picture for my blog.

Ardana

2008-10-10T19:50:00.001-07:00

I was cleaning up the new office when Ardana stopped in. She told me that this used to be her favorite place. She told me they sold all kinds of knick knacks here. Ardana suffers from cerebral palsy. She told me that her father threw her against a wall when she was nine months old. He didn't want no girl children.

She has seizures and has to take medication. It costs her $436 dollars per month. She has social security and it takes a big hunk out of her check. She says she's not mad. She does what she can. She takes old greeting cards and makes bookmarks out of them to send to the troops in Iraq. She also is a big fan of a local football star named Robbie Frey. She thinks Robbie is really hot. She takes his stats and uses them as her numbers in bingo. And she wins.

Inside the room

2008-10-09T10:47:00.003-07:00

There is just carpet on a bare cement floor in the secret room. That is the door Gene cut the padlock off of. Beyond it the earth plunges down ten feet. I call it the Zen meditation room.

Secret room

2008-10-09T10:47:00.001-07:00

There is a secret room in the basement. Gene has all kinds of electronics down here too. He likes to tinker Ron told me.

From Outside

2008-10-09T10:32:00.000-07:00

This is what it looks like from across the street. My friend Dawn is painting an Obama poster for us to put in the front window. This place is a community project. There is no DNC money over here in Lehighton. People from the town have donated everything, desks, chairs, a coffee maker, a printer, phones. I was talking to the phone guy who is doing the installation for us for free. I said to him I couldn't thank him enough. He said to me:
"Don't thank me, just win this thing."

Blank Slate

2008-10-09T10:31:00.001-07:00

This is the new office. Bare. The space is being donated by Gene Durigan. He owns the building and a lot of other buildings in town. He is a millionaire and he is a Democrat. I told Kim that we needed to take the lock off of the back door. In case there was an emergency. Gene showed up the next morning. 80 years old in a flannel shirt, work boots a John Deere cap and a huge pair of bolt cutters. After he snapped the padlock off the back door he told me that he discovered it wasn't locked. Then he noticed that the key was hanging next to the door. We both laughed.

Chocolate Day

2008-10-08T11:15:00.001-07:00

I couldn't find any chocolate for chocolate day. All I found was a stuffed dog in the garbage. But then I saw this terrific blondie at Dragonfly. Dragonfly is the only place in town with a real barista too so it makes it great for Tuesday which is coffee day.

Look at that

2008-10-08T08:30:00.001-07:00

The guy who owns the building next to the Hazleton Headquarters really hates us. He erected this giant sign next to our front door. The funny thing is that Lou Barletta doesn't like McCain and I don't think McCain likes him. McCain is progressive on immigration and Barletta, well, he's a racist.

And Palin and McCain don't agree on a lot of issues. The whole ticket is about to explode.

Hey Dog

2008-10-08T07:59:00.001-07:00

There is a thing about Hazleton. Half of the stores here are closed. And the other half that you think they are stores you go up to them and try the door and it's locked. You peer in the windows and you see that there is dust everywhere and the phones have been ripped out of the jacks. Its like whoever owned or ran the place fled.

According to Yahoo there was supposed to be a chocolatetier somewhere in the backstreets here. All I found was this dog.

Venice

2008-10-07T15:37:00.001-07:00

It's a never ending stream of work here. I am so tired. This is the picture over my bed at the Motor Inn. I want to be there.

Thrift

2008-10-07T10:39:00.001-07:00

It was colder here than I thought when I got here. I went to the thrift store across from the Obama For Change office to buy a coat. They didn't carry any mens clothing. I found a really nice black leather jacket in the women's section. The only problem was the buttons were on the wrong side. Hey. It was good enough for Jimi Hendrix.

Then I saw this cup. Can you believe it? It must be some kind of sign. I just don't know what it means.

New Headquarters

2008-10-07T08:04:00.001-07:00

The first night here I thought I had scored. It was quiet. It was clean. It is run by a family of South Asians. I think maybe Bangledesh. I asked the thin dour man who ran the place if I could have a weekly rate. Sure thing but I would have to move downstairs.

Downstairs in the smoking section it's a different world. My first night there a woman who had tailed her husband there with a prostitute had a screaming match with him in the hallway. It was 3AM. He came storming out and wrestled her down the hallway.
"Andre Smxywnems is wanted in New Jersey." She screamed.

The next night some old man was lecturing his hotel mate directly behind my head. Class was held at 3am. Then Mr. Thump Thump Thump moved in above me. I have been here for 3 days and it already feels like a year.

Deployment Housing

2008-10-06T14:57:00.001-07:00

This is the room that the local Obama staffers found for me in Hazelton. A mattress on the floor. I had to rifle through the closet to find my own sheets. Luckily there was a down comforter in a dry cleaning bag among the piles of boxes and books and VHS cassettes that filled this some sort of study room.

The host wasn't there to greet me. He was working at the campaign headquarters. I don't know who he was or if he was his son but the guy who answered the door had black framed glasses with impossibly thick lenses. He never looked at me but only into the phone he was simultaneously talking into as he led me around the house. He was a nice guy. Friendly. But something had happened in his life and I don't know if he always did but now he stuttered and repeated himself and went off on tangents that, not knowing the terrain of the world he inhabited, that I couldn't follow.

I counted three cats in the house so far as he showed me my choice of rooms. By the smell of the wall to wall carpet they seemed to be engaged in a long drawn out pissing war. Dave.. Day... Davy.. was on the phone with a neighbor who had spotted another combatant that had escaped and had called in to report it's location.

The house had a big Obama sign that filled the screen door. There was another patriotic blue sign on the lawn. Beyond that the neighbors had surrounded it with McCain/Palin signs. These were good people, but I couldn't stay there.

I made my bed. I went to the office. I had a tuna sandwich. Then I went back to the house, took my things and checked into a Motel.

The Murphy-mobile

2008-10-06T12:07:00.000-07:00

David Murphy bought this black Volvo so that he could surf the Hamptons during the summer of 08. After that he went to Bali. He lent it to me so that I could go to PA to work for the Obama campaign. Its a big car and it was hard to park in Harlem. I ended up bringing it to the Bronx and leaving it on my Aunt Margaret's street. There is no alternate parking up there and she could see it from her front porch.

Driving out to PA from Harlem was easy. Once I got over the GWB I was already on I-95 S. Merging onto I-80 W to PA was a piece of cake. After that it was 117 miles on the same road. Highways really are designed for the most incompetent among us. Even me, a New Yorker who gets behind the wheel maybe 5 times a year can handle it.

I left at mid afternoon and already there were long shadows on the highway. But the sky was a bright blue and the sun still had some summer heat to offer. I opened up the roof. By mid New Jersey the road was dense with trees at the height of their rainbow display.

I turned the dial on the radio and found WFMU coming in strong. The DJ was spinning obscure 60s psychedelia groups. For more than an hour everything was great. Then I approached the Delaware Water Gap. The topography changed. The temperature dropped. FMU sputtered and disintegrated. I turned the dial to the left and Christian rock group on "The Word FM" was thrashing out the lyric:

He shall be named.
He shall be named.

I turned the dial to the right and some old man was crowing about Honest Abe Lincoln walking 200 miles in the snow to return a penny and George Washington chopping down a cherry tree and then owning up to it and how now nobody talks about that anymore because Satan is running everything.

Then I stumbled upon the clear beacon of an NPR affiliate. There was hope.

Madalins Table

2008-10-06T10:45:00.001-07:00

The Fire Tower

2008-10-04T12:30:00.001-07:00

The Fire Tower on Mt. Trumper

2008-10-04T12:11:00.001-07:00

Dancing On The Roof

2008-10-03T13:39:00.001-07:00

Chocolate Day

2008-10-01T18:11:00.000-07:00

Wednesday is chocolate day. Boy did we get lucky. This place is in Saugerties just outside of Woodstock. They make, top notch, hand crafted, fair trade chocolates. As good as any place in The City.

View from Mt Overlook, Woodstock NY

2008-09-29T10:47:00.000-07:00

Mt Overlook

2008-09-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

Still No Towers

2008-09-22T11:36:00.001-07:00

The last time I saw this thing was on September 10th 2001. I had heard they fished it out of the ruins and put it somewhere.

$700 Billion Bail-out for Wall Street

2008-09-22T11:07:00.001-07:00

When I came out of the subway today at bowling green I was greeted by this

I heard that number on the radio today and I could not believe it. I had to go online to The New York Times to check it. That is the biggest number I have ever heard talking about one thing.

The most ominous measure in the Bush proposed bill (ironically titled section 13) reads like this:

"Decisions by the Secretary pursuant to the authority of this Act are non-reviewable and committed to agency discretion, and may not be reviewed by any court of law or any administrative agency."

So that's the end of democracy. Let's look for a new definition:

"A philosophy or system of government that is marked by stringent social and economic control, a strong, centralized government usually headed by a dictator, and often a policy of belligerent nationalism."

Hey, we are getting closer!

Oh here's another one

2008-09-14T08:19:00.003-07:00

All over the New York City 99¢ stores have become untenable. Meanwhile the electorate wants to seat a lipstick wearing pig in the Whitehouse.

The American Economy

2008-09-04T13:43:00.001-07:00

This pretty much sums it up.

Lighthouse in Montauk

2008-09-01T10:02:00.001-07:00

Sunset.

Hatful of Rosehips

2008-09-01T10:00:00.001-07:00

There were hundreds of these right below the lighthouse in Montauk. They are loaded with vitamin C and make an excellent tonic.

Hazardous

2008-09-01T09:27:00.001-07:00

Murphy bought these massive cookies at a local bakery. They look like normal cookies that have caught cancer.

Grade A

2008-09-01T09:24:00.003-07:00

The pool isn't good just for swimming.

Everything In Pink

2008-09-01T09:24:00.001-07:00

Ola in the pool at Woody's.

Camp Zero

2008-08-31T15:43:00.001-07:00

This is the abandoned radar tower at Camp Hero in Montauk. If you google "Montauk Project" you will quickly find that Camp Hero is a locus for almost every conspiracy theory in circulation. If I recall, it is something about Alister Crowley and the Pope plotting to assassinate Kennedy using technology recovered from an alien space craft downed by ex-nazi scientists over area 51.

A few decades ago nobody wanted this property and you could have had it for a dime. If I had known, I would have bought it and turned it into a techno rave club. The dj would have been stationed on the deck just in front of the curved reception field. He would have spun vinyl as it slowly rotated. The doof doof from the giant speakers would have been absorbed by the acres of surrounding pine barrens. I would have called the club "Camp Gay-dar"

Last Look

2008-08-24T18:39:00.000-07:00

I ran up to the Parthanon for a last look. The gates were closed when I got there so all I had was this last peak from around the corner.

I am staying in the tower

2008-08-19T08:48:00.001-07:00

I was only supposed to stay until tuesday but Nick and Mem invited me to stay until I left Greece. This was pefect for me. I am not the kind of traveler who likes to go everywhere and see nothing. I prefer to stay in one place and really get a feel for it. I like to have lazy days where I get up early and practice yoga, read the paper, play guitar then sleep in the afternoon.

I was by myself the first night at the house. Nick and Mem had some things they had to attend to back in Athens. There was a terrific wind storm. The ocean far below the house was covered with white caps. Every door and window in the house was rattling. It was like an army of lunatics were trying to break in. I described it to Nick when he got back:
"This place is loaded with ghosts." I told him.
"How can it have ghosts? It's a new house." He said.
"It's not the house that's haunted." I said. "It's the island."

The Mayors House

2008-08-18T09:40:00.001-07:00

We had dinner on the little plaza in front of the how do you call it? The mayors house?
"Hmm." I replied. I thought a bit. "Town Hall?"
We were accosted there by a half dozen or so stray cats. I made the mistake of feeding one a little bit of my roast rooster. After that, I had friends for life.

Ioulida

2008-08-18T09:23:00.001-07:00

This is the main city on the island of Kea. It's just what you think. All of the houses are climbing on top of each other. The entire island is terraced for farming. It once was lush and green and originally was called Hydrosa. There are hundreds of miles of stone walls to support the terraces. In order to support the agriculture here there must have been thousands of people living here. As near as I can tell though that was all over more than a thousand years ago. In the 5th century BC there were four cities here and they had joined the Athenian leauge. By the 1400's the population had declined to 200 people.

On the way back up.

2008-08-18T08:54:00.001-07:00

On the way back Maria-Elena, Thalia and I had to get out of the car to make it lighter, so that Nick could get it up the steep inclines. The engine gave off a rancid smell. The body was covered in fine dust.

Aphrodite

2008-08-18T08:53:00.000-07:00

Nick and I hiked up over the ridge and down to the site of one of the ancient cities that was being excavated. They were not just uncovering the temple here but actually rebuilding it. A small group of columns had already been erected.

There was a small rock island about 300 meters off shore and a group of boys had swum out to it and were diving from a precipice. We could hear their shouts above the waves. It was a pity that Johannes was not here. I know we would have been heading out there, into the lion's mouth, to join them.

Nick and I paused to rest on a rock bench before heading back. We saw a woman swimming towards the shore. She paused before getting out of the water and looked at us.
"She must be naked." I thought. "And waiting to see if we were ok." I gave her a little wave and she emerged from the froth. It was a perfect moment. An inspiration for Aphrodite. Now I see how myths come to be.

The hidden beach

2008-08-18T08:52:00.000-07:00

Maria Elena was disappointed that the beach we finally arrived at was not empty.
"It's so crowded!"
There were about ten people there, a few tents and three cars. A motor boat was moored about 20 feet off shore. Half of the people there were crowed in the shade beneath a solitary tree. I told her that she needed to visit Coney Island with me.

The road dips deep.

2008-08-18T08:50:00.000-07:00

We had to use a four wheeler to make our way down the treacherous dirt roads.

Giant Beans

2008-08-17T06:26:00.001-07:00

Who needs California.

Stuffed Tomatoes

2008-08-17T06:23:00.001-07:00

The tomatoes grown at the Taverna are juicey with a sweet tang. They cut like a piece of steak. The rice though, comes from China.

Mousaka

2008-08-17T06:19:00.001-07:00

If you could just try it. Eggplants picked by dawn's light. The creamy topping made from milk from a goat that is watching you behind a hand hewn frence. Fresh meat hand ground in the kitchen .

Everybody Digs In

2008-08-17T06:15:00.001-07:00

Nobody is afraid to dig in. The plates are brought to the table and it's a free for all with everybody reaching over each other to get at the food.

Grapes without wrath

2008-08-17T06:06:00.001-07:00

These grapes were hanging over our table. I reached up and tasted one. They were a little bit too tart for eating. Then I drank a small pitcher of white wine that was made from them. It was crisp with a lot of straw. This is the first time I have been in a restaurant and the grapes were not made out of plastic.

I want to go to New York

2008-08-17T06:00:00.001-07:00

When I first met Thalia she told me.
"I am four years old."
Her first nanny was from South Africa so she speaks English fluently. She always talks in perfect little sentences with all of the articles intact. At one point, after I had known her for a bit she said to me.
"Rene. Can I tell you something?"
"Sure." I said.
"I would like to go to New York."
Her mother, father, her father's brother, his wife and her friend all told me the same thing at one point or another. But she was the first. So. Dibs.

Mem tells me that Thalia is often asking when she is going to get married and have her husband. I told her:
"You should wait until you have finished the first grade. Then you will have your education."

Pistachios

2008-08-17T05:58:00.003-07:00

These pistachios were being left out to dry. I tried one and was taken aback at how rich and creamy the taste was.
"Oh yeah." I thought. "This is why somebody had the idea to make ice cream out of them."

It was like the first time I had fresh squeezed orange juice. I was a young teen and we were on vacation in Florida. I could never go back to frozen canned orange juice after that. I have had other similar experiences, like in Heidelburg when I had beer that came direct from the brewing process without ever being kegged or transported. Before that, I had never liked beer at all.

More watermelons then you can imagine

2008-08-17T05:58:00.001-07:00

The taverna also has a roadside vegetable stand. The food was so good here that I told Nick that I wanted to live under one of the tables.

this is how french fries are made

2008-08-17T05:56:00.000-07:00

Normally I am snobby about french fries. But when I saw them at this stage of the process I could not resist trying them. Indeed, they were quite excellent.

Onions and figs

2008-08-17T05:54:00.001-07:00

The Taverna we went to grows all of its own food. The vegetables we had reminded me of when I was a kid and everybody had a little garden. Everything then had real taste.

The view from Mems house

2008-08-17T02:13:00.001-07:00

When I got out of the car I said to Nick.
"My god. The silence here is almost deafening."
My ears felt numb, as if they were in a vacuum. By the next morning I had gotten used to it. By then I could hear the waves lapping on the shore in the bay below the house. This morning I heard somebody cough, inside their villa, a half mile away.

Mems house on Kea

2008-08-17T02:12:00.001-07:00

For the last three years Maria Elena has been busy building her dream house on the Island of Kea. I tired from every angle and there is no way to photograph it. It is not just that the house is visually appealling. Which it is. Nor that it has stunning views. Which it does. It has so many pleasant places to hang out in. There are balconies and roof terraces, the front porch, the tower, little plazas and transitional spaces. It has the feeling of a little village. I told Johannes that it feels like you are on a movie set. Didn't The Sexy Beast feature a villa like this?