Notes From the Western Front
May 14, 2008
The Olympic Torch ….it was here?
Aka the flame of free speech sputters
SF: Where are your balls?
A few weeks ago the Olympic torch made its only “US appearance” in SF. The city fathers, fearing massive demonstrations as seen in France etc., took matters into their own hands. Of course, the Chinese community in SF is powerful and embarrassment was something to be avoided at all costs. Debts had to be paid. The United States is a country FOUNDED on dissent, yet today dissent is the first casualty under the wheels of political expediency…yes, debts must be paid.
The planned route was through the Financial District. That day I happened to be waiting for a bus at Sacramento and Battery, looked up and saw a horde of protesters RUNNING up Battery Street….frantically looking for that damn torch. They weren’t even close.
The city had a last minute plan. From the airport, they BUSED the torch to Van Ness Ave. (other side a the hill)…and skulked it up to the Marina, quick left on Doyle….and done. The hyperventilating mob of China-bashers didn’t have a chance…. a sign-wielding many-legged creature in search of a venue.
Way to go SF …. land of the free. The musket boys on Lexington Green would be proud.
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There is somebody in my house in Vermont. A nice man is renting my house and I am thrilled because that man is renting my house and sending me money so that I can rent an apartment in Providence. Now, wait a minute. Does this make sense? I thought so, a few weeks ago, when I was working here, singing, planning, organizing, hob-knobbing, but as of today, as I lugged a bunch of my crap up two flights of stairs on the East Side, all the while knowing I would have to lug the crap back down the two flights of stairs a few months from now— as of today, I thought to myself, “Gee, I don’t feel very good in my head” I sat on the stairs, dirty stairs, very dirty, and considered my situation. I blamed the town of Bridport , Vermont, for not having a Dunkin Donut’s or a Cafe, a bar or a nightclub, a college, tennis courts, health club, movie theater. Then I blamed myself for wanting those things. Then I blamed myself for having those things here in Providence and not taking advantage of them because I like staying home and reading in bed. Now, if I like staying home and reading in bed, why don’t I just move back to my own home, in Bridport, and wait out the winter with Charles Dickens and Mark Twain? Now that I have rented my house, I miss it. It is not available. That is why I was so sad today, moving into what I thought was a nice apartment on the East Side. It is somebody elses house and always will be, no matter how many knick knacks, rugs, paintings, books, personal items I stuff into it. Renting makes me feel insecure, more insecure than worrying about how to pay my property tax. It’s silly, because none of us own anything fully. Still, sombody is in MY house and i am in somebody else’s house, and it’s ridiculous in a way that I can’t quite comprehend and it is making me very very sad.