Thursday, June 20, 2013

Potpourri


The Laurel Street Bridge was open to pedestrians and bikes today, but not to cars.


No more parking in La Plaza de Panama 


Luis' Dog


Fallen Eucalyptus Bark


The Last of the Epiphyllum on our Porch


Agapanthus Blooming in Our Yard


The Embryonic Husk that Falls Away when the Agapanthus Cluster Emerges

Wednesday, June 19, 2013



Rear View Mirror...

The fact that I am a bleeding-heart liberal has something to do with my thoughts about Congressman Darrell Issa, one of San Diego County’s representatives in Washington.  In my admitted politically biased opinion Issa is a fraud who surely doesn’t actually believe in many of the causes he espouses. There is nothing wrong with his cognitive capabilities.  He got to be the very richest of the group of super-rich members of the House of Representatives by being smart and taking advantage of whatever and whomever he needed to manipulate to get to his high place as Chairman of the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee. His oversight is as obviously biased as my feelings are about him.  He obviously relishes witch hunts and promotes conspiracy theories which he knows to be baseless and false. His latest supreme focus has been to discredit the Internal Revenue Service. He knows that for many Americans, especially for people who take great satisfaction in being among the people who have “made it,” the initials IRS provoke feelings of distain, even dread. There is no better place to start with a witch hunt than that. The witch hunt was on at the Capital Mall in Washington today where Tea Party folks flashing signs urging Congress to do away with the IRS.  It’s a sign of either dumbness or...  I was about to add one of half a dozen other nouns but they were all synonyms for dumbness.

Issa doesn’t fairly represent the middle group of Americans in his own San Diego county or in the country. He seems to believe that the bottom economic third of the people in our country exist mostly as lazy, free-loading loafers who believe they are entitled to be supported by people like him who have “made it.”  Where do these folks get the impression that poverty is self-imposed?  

Also looking back
instead of forward...

Trent Franks from Arizona is another congressman who is doing everything he can do to neutralize the safeguards for women put in place by Roe v. Wade in 1973.  Where have these people been for the past forty years and why do they want to go back to the middle of the 20th Century?



Tuesday, June 18, 2013



Anybody who reads my journal knows that I am drawn more to enigma than to absolutism and disambiguation.  What can I say...  I’m intrigued by the bark on trees. Lately, I’ve been revisiting the writings of Paul Tillich. I stumbled on his writing at a time when I thought it would be a good idea to firm up some of my fuzzy thinking about religion. Stumbled is the appropriate word.  Reading Tillich, I could barely get from one sentence to the next without the help of a dictionary, but I knew I was meeting a kindred spirit. I began with one of his books and some of his lectures and essays and found in them a celebration of indefiniteness, of not deciding, of existential comfort in not knowing for sure.  

It was in late 1953, the year I graduated from high school and enrolled in college. I met Tillich in his book The Courage to Be  (published in 1952) after reading and discussing Hamlet with a very special teacher.  I had the unusual experience of being the only person to show up for a Shakespeare class at the beginning of the second semester. There were three or four sections of the course, and the one in which I was enrolled was scheduled for late in the afternoon. I expected to be told that I’d have to join one of the other groups, but that didn’t happen.  The professor said he’d like to keep the schedule if I was willing to do it.  He said someone else might join us, but nobody did.   We met twice a week in his office.  He had two rocking chairs.  He sat in one and I sat in the other. We read plays and sonnets; we listened to recordings... and we talked. When we read Hamlet, he introduced me to Tillich; and the experience was life-shaping.  I had been fortunate to have a couple of extraordinary teachers in high school; but Professor Malloy showed me that being a student is one thing and being a scholar is something else.  He was the teacher and I was the student.  By mid-semester he said we were both scholars, and I understood that it was true.

We read Hamlet... together.... aloud.  He read some of the parts and I read some. When we got to Hamlet’s soliloquy, he read it first... all the way through, and I listened; and before going on, he asked me to read it.  And then we talked, and in the discussion he told me about Paul Tillich’s experience in the German army in World War One and his later troubles with Hitler, about his coming to the U.S.   He gave me The Courage to Be, which he had just finished reading. He said Tillich’s thesis had changed forever the way he would read and understand Hamlet’s soliloquy.  He confided that “to be or not to be” was his dilemma, too. It became mine, as well.  From then on I knew I didn’t want to live my life in a state of nonbeing.




Monday, June 17, 2013



Keeping Track of Where I’m Supposed to Be

CURBS...STRIPES








Sunday, June 16, 2013

So while I’m living,
I have things to do...
Mysteries to ponder...
like the ancient hard-packed clay deposits,
small boulders all in a row
halfway up the hill from Mission valley
exposed to light and air
by erosion and builders.
An old man to ask
what he knows about weaving baskets.
and when the rains will come again...
Roads roll out before me.

...so do shadows and dark places.
Sunflowers keep the time.





Saturday, June 15, 2013

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER DATURA
This morning I was driving down Boundary Street in North Park when I spotted two magnificent datura trees with blossoms hanging like Asian temple bells; so I stopped and got my pictures for today. One tree had white blossoms... the other yellow.  Such beauty!


O.K.,  O.K.,  O.K...!  So I'm stuck in a rut... but it's a nice rut. Some ruts are better than others.
Ask any moose.







Friday, June 14, 2013

Joyful Stuff... All in One Day

A visit to friend Tom's studio... met his kitten Charlie and saw one of his latest paintings...

In the middle of the day with friend Ed... and his two beautiful daughters and two beautiful Granddaughters. Elizabeth was awake for awhile... Bristal slept right through the visit...

Then a great party to end the day with Gino and Sarah and Margaret and Vin and Don and... and... and










Thursday, June 13, 2013


My friend is handsome.  Click on any of the pictures to see him better in a slide show.


I met a friend for lunch in Balboa Park today on the way to my volunteer job at the Museum of Photographic Arts.  I brought the lunch.  He ate some of it on the spot, but he stuffed his cheeks with enough for supper.  







Wednesday, June 12, 2013



PRIVACY ?  (the state of being free from being observed or disturbed by other people) Synonyms: SECLUSION? SOLITUDE? CONFIDENTIAL?

SECURITY? (the state of being free from danger or threat)  
Synonyms: SURETY? SAFEGUARD? GUARANTEE? 


If honest confession is good for the soul, my journaling today should, at least, give my soul some comfort.  I’ll begin with a remembrance... of Daniel Ellsberg (now 82 years old), who as a United States military analyst employed by the Rand Corporation in 1971, released to the New York Times a top-secret Pentagon study of the U.S. government’s decision-making concerning the Vietnam War. I believed Ellsberg was right about the mindless, unmanaged and probably unmanageable chaotic war in Vietnam just four hundred miles across the South China Sea from where I was living at the time.  As a civilian I had spent some time in South Vietnam, and I had witnessed firsthand the disorder and confusion all over that country.  I had wondered how it could be possible that my country didn’t know that the war wasn’t winnable; and that if there were a chance that it was winnable, it would take a long time and many thousands more lives would be lost. Ellsberg provided documents, “The Pentagon Papers,” which showed that our government had known for a long time that the war was probably not winnable. I thought of Ellsberg as a genuine patriot... a hero. Some other Americans thought of him as a despicable traitor.

A couple of comparisons:  Daniel Ellsberg, who grew up in Detroit, went to Harvard on a scholarship where he earned an A.B. in economics; studied at Cambridge on a Woodrow Wilson Fellowship, returned to Harvard for Graduate School then left to join the U.S. Marine Corps where he served as a platoon leader and company commander, returned to Harvard and earned a PhD in Economics. After Ellsberg knowingly violated federal law by turning over classified information to a newspaper, he surrendered to the United States Attorney’s Office for the District of Massachusetts in Boston saying, “I felt that as an American citizen, as a responsible citizen, I could no longer cooperate in concealing this information from the American public.  I did this clearly on my own jeopardy and I am prepared to answer to all the consequences of this decision.”

Edward Snowden, born in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, moved to Maryland where he dropped out of high school.  He enrolled in a community college to get the credits he needed for a GED.  He joined the United States Army but was discharged after breaking both of his legs in a training accident.  Earlier this month he disclosed details of a classified NSA spy program to the press and acknowledged that he had done so in an interview with the British newspaper, The Guardian.  He went to Hong Kong where the interview with The Guardian took place.  In that interview he said, “I’m no different from anybody else.  I don’t have special skills.  I’m just another guy who sits there day to day in the office, watches what’s happening and goes, ‘This is something that’s not our place to decide, the public needs to decide whether these programs and policies are right or wrong.’” The “something” that he feels is “our place to decide” is whether or not our government should keep track of to/from whom/where we send and receive phone calls.  The actual phone messages are not the point of the record-keeping, but the government had decided it might gain information about terrorists by having computers analyze the to/from/where information.  It was understood that to listen in... to collect the actual messages... would require permission from a Federal judge.  At last account, Mr. Snowden is in hiding.  His future plans are not known. 

MY CONFESSION:  I am CONFLICTED.  I’m glad the Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution is included in The Bill of Rights.  It guarantees me and other citizens privacy under force of the law. "The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized." It means that I have the right to be secure in my person, my house, my papers, and my effects.  Government officials (police officers, elected representatives of my city, my state and my country) are required to obtain a warrant and have probable cause before searching for information about me in any except public places.  The Fourth Amendment is generally interpreted to mean that citizens have an inherent right to privacy. When the amendment to the constitution was created and included in “The Bill of Rights” there were no telephones and no Internet.  The intent at that time was that the government couldn’t intercept our mail or other private messages without a court order.  The safeguard was a safeguard against government intrusion into the private lives of citizens.  Who could have imagined Google and Facebook and the Internet in the Eighteenth Century!  ...So, under the terms of the Constitution, Google and Facebook can glean from my Internet activities whatever they can find about my private life so they can sell information about me to private companies willing to pay to know what I might be willing to buy... but the Government has no right to do it.  I’m left wondering which slippery slope I prefer.

In addition to our guaranteed right to keep government from knowing our private messages, among several other rights guaranteed by the Constitution, we citizens of this richest, most powerful country in the world expect the government to keep us as safe as possible from harm that might be done to us by forces within the country or from other countries. Since I was in grade school and was required to memorize the Preamble to the Constitution,  I have assumed that my country will do everything in its power to protect me.

“We the people of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution of the United States.”  I understand that the Preamble is not law.  It serves only as an introduction to the Constitution.  I assumed when I was a child learning to say it that I was supposed to feel safer from harm because I am an American than I might feel if I were a citizen of almost any other country.  As I grew through childhood and adolescence, I was taught which other countries guaranteed individual safety to their citizens. Somewhere along the way I became aware that I was more secure than some other Americans.  In a small town in Arkansas where I was an elementary school kid, I attended a nice, well-furnished school for white children.  The building was a proper school house with wonderful playground equipment in the school yard. The teachers were white. All of us kids were white. 

My mother once took me to a Christmas program at the school for Negro  children in our town. My mother called it “The Negro School,” and she absolutely forbade me to refer to it by the name that most other people in that little town used.  Even now,  I can’t bring myself to write that name in my journal... and that was a time before the word black had come into common use when referring to African Americans...  I’ll never forget... the difference.  The building wasn’t a proper school house.  It was just a small unpainted house which had been built originally on “that side of the tracks” as a place for a family to live, not for children to go to school.  It was small.  It was a shack.  There was one teacher for all the grades; and, of course, that teacher was an African American lady.  Thinking about it now, I’m guessing the teacher might have had an eighth grade education.  She and my mother were friends.  I don’t know the circumstances that made their friendship possible. 

That was a time between 1941 and 1945.  My country was at war. My father was too old to be drafted, but some of his brothers and some of my mother’s brothers and some of my cousins were soldiers.  I’m guessing that learning the Preamble to the Constitution, made me feel secure, that even in a time of war my country was determined to keep me safe.  I still believe that. 

Somewhere along the way from childhood to old age, I became aware that ambiguity isn’t just a language issue.  Sometimes “you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”  The issue Mr. Snowden has decided for himself and for all of us is that privacy trumps national security.  Dr. Ellsberg decided private citizens have the right to know what the government knows, that government should not be able to hide its decision-making from citizens.
This other datura, like the jimson weed, is also poison.