Good news

I've broken my informal rule about no politics on the blog a few times and I'm going to break it again today. In the past, I've mentioned my friend, Spesh, and the work he does in Israel for "the cause." Those are his words and I know what he means but sometimes people ask, "What cause?" I'm never quite sure how to answer but usually I'll say "peace" and other times I'll say, "to end the occupation." I also think the answer is to end the oppression and disenfranchisement of the Palestinians.

The group that Spesh works with is called Anarchists Against the Wall. They work with Palestinian villages and engage in direct action against the wall being built by the Israeli government in the West Bank. A lot of this wall is already built and it furthers the social and economic isolation of the Palestinians.

Recently, they've won a high court decision to re-route part of the wall around the village of Bil'in:

A victory for the anarchists
By Meron Rapoport
Last Update: 07/09/2007 11:57

"I remember the moment I marched among a crowd of Palestinians," said one of the Israeli activists who participated in the ongoing demonstrations near the village of Bil'in, this week. Those demonstrations led to a High Court decision a few days ago ordering the rerouting of the separation fence near the village. "I served in the army, and my first instinct was to look for the signal operator and to check if we were marching properly spaced. The Palestinians shouted 'Allahu Akbar,' which is supposed to be the nightmare of every Israeli soldier, but I suddenly realized that I was with them, that they weren't my enemies."

Click here for the full story.

If this is an issue you care about, please take a look at the full story and the AAW website. If you care to donate, it would be much appreciated. If you want to debate, we can do that in the comments.

Thanks for your patience. I'll return to the regularly scheduled content tomorrow.

Grateful for: those working for the cause.

Frank Ider

The other day, I got a "friends" request on my facebook account. Yes, I have a facebook account. Why? I read about a blogger's obsession with the site and I wanted to see what it was all about, so I signed up. I've never used it much, but it's there and until this weekend I had about seven friends.

(Aside: in fact, I got two friends requests this weekend. The first was from one of my first cousins once removed (the son of a first cousin). He's a senior in high school, a good kid and of course I added him. It was amusing and sweet that he even made the request.)

The other request was from Frank Ider. That stunned me. I will never forget Frank Ider but I didn't expect him to remember me, or search me out on a website. Nor did it occur to me to search for him. I was shocked to realize that he's grown older--and is now quite close to my age. When I was 19 and he was 16 (and a half!), our age difference seemed quite significant, now, not so much.

Oddly enough, I was thinking about Frank just a couple of weeks ago. He came to mind when those BYU students protested Cheney's giving their commencement address. We had a protest at my commencement too, though our reason was more prosaic. Instead of inviting an outside speaker, the address was given by the president of the university, William Gerberding, a man who was mainly known for making himself unknown to students. To wit, there was a tiny daily column in our student newspaper called "Gerb Watch," which would report Gerberding sightings around campus.

The day of commencement, some enterprising students handed out white paper armbands for us to wear as a protest. I happily fastened mine around my gown, but it fell off before I even made it into the main hall. Our walk was strewn with strips of white paper that had likewise failed to stay fastened on anyone's arm. It was the little protest that couldn't.

During the ceremony, while Gerb gave a long, boring speech, I was seated next to Frank Ider. We talked non-stop and I had a great time. When I saw Dad afterwards, I told him I hadn't heard a word of the speech and I asked him what Gerb had said. Dad was furious and told me, "It was one of the worst speeches I've ever heard! It's good you didn't pay attention." Heh.

Frank Ider and I had been on exactly one date about a year prior to commencement. In my mind, Frank remains that 16-year-old guy who ended our date with one of the most passionate kisses of my life--a kiss full of angst and hormones. He was acerbic, biting and witty. He was an asshole. But I sure loved joking around with him. Our date was hilarious. We'd been flirting for a while and then started calling each other. Eventually, I told him to ask me out and he did. I borrowed my mom's car and I picked him up at his parents' house in Bellevue. We had pizza and saw a bad Dan Acroyd movie (he liked it, I granted that it was "funny"). I took him home and tiptoed into his basement room where he played records for me from his Depeche Mode collection. When it was time to go, he walked me to the car and gave me that kiss....

I was disappointed that we didn't go out again, but I got over it quickly. At least as quickly as I ever do.

When I got the friend request from Frank, I wrote him a note but didn't write back. I was curious to see if he's changed, if he's the same grumpy, acerbic, funny guy he always was. But maybe it's just as well. It might be better to keep my memory safe. If Frank has mellowed with time, I don't want to know about it.

UPDATE: Just got an email from Frank today. He seems awfully nice and friendly. Sigh.

Grateful for: college.

Every blogger's dream

Or nightmare.

Yesterday, for the first time, I was linked by the powerful and popular Wonkette. What an honor! Except they linked to the piece of frippery I wrote about today's anti-war protest.

I got two comments that took me to the woodshed for my supercilious ways. I am chagrined. I am on the defensive. I am a little disappointed in myself.

This is a blog about my personal journey. It's not about my politics or my activism.

It's tempting to list my resume of good works--volunteering, protesting, political organizing. It's even more tempting to roll out my unpopular ultra left-wing views. But it would be defensive--even more defensive than claiming such a resume exists. It wouldn't convince anyone and there will always be someone who could find fault. I could do more. And it's true that I'm not willing to sacrifice my day-to-day life for any cause, unlike my friend Spesh.

I told Spesh I was on the fence about going to the protest and he said, "you must go."

So I must. And I will.

Grateful for: my conscience.

Drop me a line.

Anti-War Rally

Did you know that a "massive anti-war rally" is planned for Saturday? I didn't until a couple of days ago. I had my entire weekend mapped out and now I have to go and add a protest to the mix? How wrong would it be to make yoga a higher priority than an anti-war rally?

I feel like a dope because I was fairly politically active while I was in grad school. I was totally out of the loop on this one. Since I've moved to DC, the degree to which I'm active is directly proportional to my contact with my friend Spesh. When he's in town, he keeps me involved. When he's not, I fall out of touch with the various movements. If I have friends who come to town for a protest, I join them. That's happened three or four times, but not recently.

When I contemplate going to a rally/march/protest/demo on my own, I balk. It's overwhelming. In fact, I don't think I've ever done it. I'm not sure I'll do it this weekend. But I do want to see a movie at the National Gallery and the rally is right there on the mall so maybe I can combine efforts. Maybe I'll stand there for a while and try to be counted.

I think rallies/protests/marches/demos are important. I hope this rally and others like it has the same effect such rallies had during Vietnam: making it clear to the pols who pay attention that the public wants the madness to end. It may turn out that I'll want to say I was there.

I know it's more important than yoga. I can take the early class at the "regular" studio and skip hot yoga on Saturday.

Grateful for: a sunny day.

Drop me a line.