mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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There is an ethical ladder that ascends to the highest moral code. As children we should be taught how to climb that ladder by example. Unfortunately many children are witnesses to adult misbehavior that leads them to cling to a low rung on the ladder. As we go through life we respond to situations according to our ethical code. There is a sliding scale for moral fortitude, depending on the difficulty of the stand, or the popular opposition to the truth. It is obviously easier to go along with the crowd no matter what they do. People who stay down at that level just want to not make waves. They do not consider how they contribute to the morality of the entire world.
At the bottom of the ethical stairway is only one consideration:
If we mature we start to realize there could be more:
As educated adults participating in a community we may start to notice:
On which rung do you live most of your life, gentle reader? I encourage you to take the highest ground possible, not just for yourself, but for the entire world.
My 7th great-grandfather was born in Massachusetts, but moved with his parents to Rhode Island as baby. His father was a judge and prominent Quaker in Rhode Island after being driven out of Salem for religious differences. The family quit the Puritan Church and joined the Quaker Church. We have a copy of his will.
EBER SHERMAN WAS THE SON OF THE HON. PHILIP SHERMAN AND SARAH ODDINGS OF PORTSMOUTH, RHODES ISLAND, USA. HE MARRIED HIS FIRST WIFE MARY WILCOX, THE DAUGHTER OF EDWARD AND SUSANNA THOMPSON, AND SOPHIA A. BROWN HIS SECOND WIFE. HE WAS ADMITTED FREEMAN, TUESDAY, JUNE 08, 1658, IN PORTSMOUTH, RHODES ISLAND, HE WAS ONE OF THE FIRST SETTLERS IN THE NARRAGANSETT COUNTY, “DECB’R 05, 1679 AN ACCO’T OF LANDS LAID OUT & ALLWED TO MR. SAM’LL WILBORE & COMPA. TO JARED BULL, AND SEVERAL OTHERS”, SHOWS 500 ACRES TO EBER SHERMAN. (FONES RECORD-1894. PP36-7) ” HE WAS A PROMINENT AND INFLUENTIAL MAN, AND HELD MANY OF THE LOCAL OFFICES”. F.D. SHERMAN LISTS ABIGAIL AS A DAUGHTER WITH A QUESTION MARK, F.D.S. 602; A LETTER, MRS. THOMAS O. TREHARNE, TROY NY. HE SETTLED ON THE WEST SIDE OF
NARRAGANSETT BAY AT NORTH KINGSTON. “GOING TO PALMYRA; SHERMAN DEEDS” BY MARGARET SHERMAN, LUTZVICK, 1977.
Eber Sherman (1634 – 1706)
7th great-grandfather
Mary Sherman (1688 – 1751)
daughter of Eber Sherman
Thomas Sweet (1732 – 1813)
son of Mary Sherman
Thomas Sweet (1765 – 1844)
son of Thomas Sweet
Valentine Sweet (1791 – 1858)
son of Thomas Sweet
Sarah LaVina Sweet (1840 – 1923)
daughter of Valentine Sweet
Jason A Morse (1862 – 1932)
son of Sarah LaVina Sweet
Ernest Abner Morse (1890 – 1965)
son of Jason A Morse
Richard Arden Morse (1920 – 2004)
son of Ernest Abner Morse
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Richard Arden Morse
WILL OF EBER SHERMAN OF NORTH KINGSTON, RI.
GOD SO BLEST ME IN THIS LIFE I GIVE AND BEQUEATH THE SAME IN THE FOLLOWING MANNER AND FORM FIRST MY DEBTRS AND FUNERALL CHARGES BE PAID ( ) I GIVE TO MY BELOVED SON EBER SHERMAN ONE HUNDRED ACRES OF LAND JOYNING TO THE HOUSE WHICH JO ( ) TO BE TO HIM AND TO HIS HEIRES LAWFULLY BEGOTTEN OF HIS OWN BODY ITEM; I GIVE TO MY BELOVED SON SAMUEL SHERMAN ACRES OF LAND JOYNING AND BOUNDING UPON MY SON EBER SHERMANS LANDD THAT IS ABOVE MENTIONED TO BE TO HIM AND TO HIS HEIRES LAWFULLY BEGOTTEN OF HIS OWN BODY. ITEM I GIVE TO MY BELOVED SON STEPEN SHERMAN ONE HUNDRED ACRES OF LAND JOYNING AND BOUNDING UPON THE LAND GIVEN TO SAMUEL SHERMAN MY SONTHAT IS TO SAY TO HIM AND TO HIS HEIRES LAWFULLY BEGOTTEN OF HIS OWN BODY. I GIVE TO MY BELOVED SON ELISHA SHERMAN ONE HUNDRED ACRES OF LAND JOYNING AND BOUNDING UPON THE LAND GIVEN TO SON STEPEN SHERMAN BEFORE MENTIONED TO BE TO HIM AND HIS LAQFULLY GEGOTTEN OF HIS OWN BODY. ITEM I GIVE TO MY BELOVED SON WILLIAM SHERMAN ONE HUNDRED ACRES OF LAND ADJOYNING AND BOUNDING UPON THE LAND WHICH I HAVE GIVEN TO MY STO ELISHA SHERMAN TO BE TO HIM AND TO HIS HEIRES LAWFULLY BEGOTTEN OF HIS OWN BODY.ITEM. I GIVE TO MY BELOVED SON PELEG SHERMAN ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY & TWO ACRES OF LAND ( ) BOUNDED UPON JOHN SWEETS LAND NEAR ( ) TO BE TO HIM AND TO HIS HEIRES LAWFULLY BEGOTTEN OF HIS OWN BODY BUT IN CASE ANY OF THEM W ( ) ENTIONED SHAL DEPART THE ( ) I HEREBY UTTERLY DIALLOW AND REVOKE ALL OTHER TESTAMENTS AND WILLS BY ME FORERLY ANY WISE NAMED WRI( )ING AND CONFIRMING THIS & NOE OTHER TO MY LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT; IN WITNESS WHEREOF I HAVE HERE UNTO SETT MY HAND AND SEALE THE DAY AND YEAR ABOVE WRITEN SIGNED SEALED PUBLISHED AND DECLARED TO BE THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT IN THE PRESENCE OF THE SUBSCRIBERS BY EBER SHERMAN. EBER ( HIS MARK) SHERMAN CAPTAIN JESSE ( HIS MARK) CHAMPLIN PELEG MUMFORD THEOPHILUS WHALE CAPT. JEFFERY CHAMPLIN AND PELED MUMFORD BOTH OF KINGSTOWNE IN THE COLONY OF RHOOD ISLAND AND PROVIDENCE PLANTATIONS DID BOTH APPEAR BEFORE THE COUNCIL OF KINGSTOWNE THE 14TH DAY OF ( ) DID DECLEAR THAT THEY DID SEE AND HEAR EBR SHERMAN OF KINSTOWNE (LATE DECEASED) SETT HIS MARK AND SEAL UPON THE ABOVE WRITEN INSTRUMENT AND DECLARED THE SAME TO ( ) HIS LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT AND THAT THEY SETT THEIR NAMES THERTO AS WITNESSES TO THE SAME. ENTERED UPON RECORD THE 13TH DAY NOVERMER 1706 SAMUEL FFONES CLARKE
INVENTORY OF EBER SHERMANS ESTATE LATE DECEASED BY US JUSTICE CHAMPLIN, JONATHAN SHERMA; OXEN FIVE COWS TWO THREE YEAR OLDS ONE CALF- – NORTH KINGSTOWN, R.I. PROBATE RECORDS V. 1-5, PP. 81-82 F.D.S. 603,604
THE ABOVE WILL CAN BE FOUND IN “SOME OF THE DESCENDANTS OF PHILIP SHERMAN, THE FIRST SECRETARY OF RHODE ISLAND” BY ROY V. SHERMAN, PP. 26-28—
Child of PHILIP SHERMAN and SARAH ODDING is:
5. i. EBER5 SHERMAN, b. December 1634, Roxbury, Suffolk Co., MA; d. 1706, North Kingstown, Washington Co., RI.
Generation No. 5
Notes for EBER SHERMAN:
Will of EBER SHERMAN of North Kingston, RI
(Margins destroyed by fire, Dec. 1870)
God so blest me in this life I give and bequeath the same in the following manner and form
first my debts and funerall charges be paid ( )
I give to my beloved Son Eber Sherman one hundred acres of land joyning to the house which jo ( )
to be to him and to his heires lawfully begotten of his own body ( )
Item: I give to my beloved son Samuel Sherman ( ) acres of land joyning and bounding upon my son Eber Shermans land that is above mentioned to be to him and to his heires lawfully begotten of his own body. Item I give to my beloved son Stephen Sherman one hundred acres of land joyning and bounding upon the land given to Samuel Sherman my son that is to say to him and to his heires lawfully begotten of his own body.
Item: I give to my beloved son Elisha Sherman one hundred acres of land joyning and bounding upon the land given to son Stephen Sherman before mentioned to be to him and his lawfully begotten of his own body. Item. I give to my beloved son William Sherman one hundred acres of land adjoyning and bounding upon the land which I have given to my son Elisha Sherman to be to him and to his heires lawfully begotten of his own body. Item. I give to my beloved son Peleg Sherman one hundred and eighty & two acres of land ( ) bounded upon John Sweets land near ( ) to be to him and to his heires lawfully begotten of his own body but in case any of them w( ) entioned shal depart th ( ) I hereby utterly disallow and revoke all other testaments and wills by me formerly any wise named wri( ) ing and confirming this & noe other to be my last will and testament; In witness whereof I have here unto sett my hand and seale the day and year above writen ( ) signed sealed published and declared to be the last will and testament in the presence of the subscribers by Eber Sherman.
Eber (his mark) Sherman
Captain Jesse ( his mark) Champlin
Peleg Mumford
Theophilus Whale
Capt. Jeffery Champlin and Peled Mumford both of Kingstowne in the colony of Rhood Island and Providence Plantations did both appear before the Council of Kingstowne the 14th day of ( ) did declear that they did see and hear Eber Sherman of Kingstowne (late deceased) sett his mark and seal upon the the above writen instrument and declared the same to ( ) his last will and testament and that they sett their names thereto as witnesses to the same.
Entered upon record the 13th day
November 1706
Samuel ffones Clerke
Inventory Follows
Kingstown October the 11th day 1706
Inventory of Eber Shermans Estate late deceased
By us Justice Champlin, Jonathan Sherman:
Oxen five cows two three year old
olds one calf–
North Kingstown, R.I. Probate Records V. 1-5, pp. 81-82
F.D.S. 603, 604
Eber was the son of the immigrant Philip Sherman and his wife, Sarah Odding. Secondary sources say Eber was born in Roxbury, Mass. December 1634; however, a “Heber Sherman” cosigned a deed in Portsmouth, RI on 1 March 1649 [/50?], and if that was this individual, then Eber would have been born no later than 1629. He d. N. Kingstown, RI 1706, and married late in life. c. 1677 Mary, b. c. 1650, living in Oct 1719 when named in the will of Eber’s brother, Peleg Sherman. Mary, in many sources, has been called the daughter of Edward Wilcox, but that Mary was born about 1639, and would be too old to be the mother of Eber’s younger children.
In his 1968 genealogy of the Sherman family, Roy V. Sherman asserts that Eber had another wife named Sophia Brown. If this is the case, then Sophia would have been a first wife, since Mary was the widow of Eber in 1719.
Though Eber grew up in Portsmouth, Rhode Island where his father settled, by 1670 he was living across the Narragansett Bay in Pettaquamscutt (now S. Kingstown), where he and four others were appointed to set a tax rate. In 1687 he was taxed in Kingstowne (which was spilt between North and South in 1722).
Eber’s will was proved in (North) Kingstown on 13 Nov 1706. Alden Beaman provided a good rendition of this family in his Rhode Island Genealogical Register, vol. 9, pages 1-12. However, I take exception to the son Stephen being placed as one of the older children, because he was the last of the children to marry. I have therefore re-arranged the children slightly from Beaman’s account. Children:
Surf culture is unique and specific to the location. Surfers know each other by hanging out on the same breaks. Today I saw a circle of boards out beyond the break. My friend told me this was a paddleout, a surfer funeral. As we walked down the beach we saw many others people in attendance for the service. There was health food catering, Hawaiian music, flowers, leis, and a special place of honor for the deceased guy’s grandmother. I had never seen anything like this. The people gathered with a reverence for nature as well as for their dead friend. The ceremony involved gathering on the boards, perhaps setting a lei or some flowers out to sea. They may have dropped his ashes. Then the surfers spread out to catch waves in to the shore to join those on the beach. It was beautiful. This was a fitting tribute by his surfer friends, and a perfect way to honor his life.
Surfers are focused. They just don’t mind the hassles or the schlepping it takes to catch a wave. Some devote their lifestyle completely to the sport. Most need to make some money on the side so they can afford to surf the rest of the time. There is a strong sense of community that keeps them all afloat. I feel lucky to have witnessed this sweet and meaningful goodbye. It contrasts sharply with the typical funeral home event. I am considering learning to surf just so I can have one of these when I go. This sublime symbolic gesture says more to me than any religious ceremony could offer.
I am pumped, gentle readers. I am embarking on a road trip to one of my favorite destinations on earth. I love Cardiff-by- the-Sea, California. This suburb of Encinitas has everything I want in a destination…..beautiful beach, a classic biker dive bar with great rock and roll ( right across the street from the beach), and many good friends who live in the area of North County San Diego.
At home in Tucson I rarely go out and night and have not been out dancing for ages. The music at the Kraken usually suits me to a T, and there is no need to choose a partner in order to dance. It is not that kind of bar. It is a bar for locals, bikers, and everyone who wants to preserve 1975 for eternity…..my kind of place. I have found an Airbnb accommodation that has everything I every hoped for in an accommodation. I can park ( this is a very big deal in this neighborhood) and walk 5 blocks to the beach and/or the Kraken and walk right back up the hill to go home. I will have a balcony with an ocean view ( pretty excited about that aspect).
The big event of the weekend is a Bar Mitzvah celebration for my good friend’s son, Ben Levy. After the service we will go to a trampoline park in Vista for the party. This will be the best Bar Mitzvah party I have attended…I know already. I am really into trampolines, and not that into your typical after Bar Mitzvah party. I have attended my share, but never been offered a chance to trampoline. Go Benny, what a great decision!!!!!!! I will be very happy to share your special trope and tramp day with you and the family. California, here I come!
I think the time is right to bring back the tradition of wearing the dunce cap. John Duns Scotus ( yes, exactly like SCOTUS) created the dunce cap as an educational tool. He was born in Scotland in 1266, so he might well have been hanging out with my ancestors, perhaps even influencing their upbringing. Both of my parents have Scottish ancestry. The Subtle Doctor, as Scotus was known, was a famous philosopher, teaching in Oxford, Cambridge, and Paris before his fall from grace.
It seems the doctor was stabbed to death for his school of thinking. His students used their pens to kill him because he was trying to “make them think”. Now we have to ask ourselves which one of these “schools of thought” was crazier than the other, and also is the pen mightier than the sword.
For modern use I think we just make corrupt officials who are caught breaking the law to fashion their own caps out of construction paper. They all need to sent to sit in the corner for public humiliation until they repent of their stupidity. Do you think this could work, gentle reader?
A few years ago I went to California to take a workshop from a group called Tribal Truth. I was invited to go by a good friend who flaked out after I had paid for it. I decided to go because it was taking place at a hot spring I like in SoCal, so I figured I would have fun at the hot spring at least. We were assigned roommates to share dorm style accommodations. The lady assigned to me was a working Jungian therapist who told me right off the bat she had always been a “good girl”. She was relatively sophisticated…I mean, she did actually have a practice in Jungian therapy…but her “good girl” had been blinded by the light. I think her dad had been a preacher. She and I discussed the events of the first night and had different opinions about them. I thought the whole thing was bogus because the meditation they used was plagiarized from Carolyn Myss without crediting her, and they seemed generally lame.
I don’t remember how I found Celina and Donna, my rebel with a cause soul sisters, but we met and conferred about the nature of this Tribal Truth business. We had all paid a lot, and they had driven down from the fabulous east bay to make the most of the weekend. Donna had a lot of experience in the physic realm, along with some bad experiences with a “psychic” cult. She was instantly against the ethics in the room because she was sensitive to the use of so-called truth to control, rob and manipulate others. I didn’t like it because of the plagiarism and this idea that these leaders were somehow gifted, holy, and tribal. Celina is an osteopathic manual practitioner who is highly attuned to dishonesty too. On the first night in the conference room we were given our assignment for the weekend. We were to make up an imaginary business and pitch it to the crowd, like a start-up generator run by plagiarizing glitter fairies. Donna was born in the year of the dog. Both Celina and I were born in the year of the tiger. We decided our business would be the simplest of business plans. Our company, Two Tigers and a Dog Psychic Protection Agency would just sell stickers to put up on any home or business. The stickers would say “This building protected by Two Tigers and a Dog Psychic Protection Agency.” That’s it. We laughed uproariously.
When we told the group we were dropping out because we were all finished with our assignment they went crazy. They tried to shame us into “not breaking the sacred circle”. They made us stay to do something stupid with this circle concept, so I stood up and said something like “sacred, my ass”…and the three of us left to spend our day at the hot spring having fun. Two Tigers and a Dog had so much more fun than those who struggled to identify themselves with these bogus sprit guides. The Jungian therapist moved out of my room because I was a heretic to the tribal situation. This was the best because my room then had 3 beds for…two tigers and a dog to have slumber parties. We partied on, then parted.
We got together years later in the Mission District of SFO with my friend Ardell, a long time friend and personal healer. The federal government had been closed by the Zodiac Killer (Ted Cruz), but we were invited to visit the 9th circuit court of appeals building, probably the most elegant building in the city. We felt so lucky to see the building and meet justices. Then we all got to wear my friend Peter’s robe for a photo shoot. If I knew how to photoshop I would make that sticker for the protection agency, with us all dressed in Peter’s robe. Ardell is a snake, but that can be scary too. Two Tigers, a Dog, and a Snake Psychic Protection Agency is a thing. If you see these women on a sticker….just leave that property alone..don’t take a chance. We are watching you. You never know where we might be.
What is the opposite of resisting arrest? The cops resisting citizens who want to present evidence to stop crime is that. I have spent almost a decade trying to stop the obvious crime in my immediate neighborhood. This has turned out to be an illusive dream because I could not manage to show the TPD the evidence. Once this had been going on for a few years, we were then subjected to a fake neighborhood watch for the sole purpose of willfully denying crime is crime. This proved the point that crime left to fester just get worse. Now we were forced to keep all the crime in place, and pay taxes to support a fraudulent neighborhood watch. Everything has gone in the opposite direction of justice. We have been forced to keep the crime we have (which is significant) by a completely clueless system designed to serve and protect us. You don’t have to be shot in the back by the cops to have your life ruined by their dishonesty.
Finally, about a month ago I physically took the evidence to the station for the captain to review. During the month nobody has contacted me or informed me at all. This week TPD sent 3 cops to my house to ask what is happening, as if this is the first time they have heard of this. I showed them the evidence I still had at the house and told this very long complicated story one more time. They did not understand and asked me to call 911 if the ongoing financial fraud continued. This is not a realistic way to stop financial fraud.
Still TPD is completely silent. I told them I am not at all comfortable leaving that evidence at the station since the captain is on vacation, and he is specifically the only one I can trust. Silence. I fully expect that evidence to disappear at the Midtown police station and the whole 10 years of obstruction of justice to be swept under the table. We hear about corruption in government, but I have lived through a decade of it at the most extreme levels. These people aren’t even in collusion. They are simply clueless, too clueless to even collude. This is the scariest discovery I have made. They don’t intend to prevaricate. They just have no contact with reality. This corrupt bubble must be broken for the safety of us all.
I swore I would not buy an Echo from Amazon until I was in a wheelchair, or somehow disabled. I have never spoken to Siri, the voice inside my phone and iPods. She leaves me cold. Amazon’s voice robot is Alexa, but her priorities and capabilities are different from Siri’s. She is naturally equipped to shop Amazon by voice command, but she does so much more. The Echo arrived at my house yesterday after I was convinced by Prime Day sales to go ahead and buy one. I have now entered the world of magic voice command control of my audio life. Alexa knows all and can find any song in Amazon music in a split second. She is also pretty good as a DJ, selecting a radio station I liked off the bat. She speaks only when spoken to, and projects absolutely no drama. I now can’t imagine how I lived my life without her. I bought the full version that plugs in and uses the wifi at home. There are new portable units, but the stay at home model is right for my needs. I have just started to investigate what she does. I don’t think I will tell her to go shopping on Amazon. I will still do that in person. Right now she is playing all the Grateful Dead in Amazon music and later she will read me a book. She is talented and versatile. Most of all, she gives me no attitude. If she can’t answer a question she just makes a tiny electronic noise and shuts up. Try to find a human who will do that every time. She is polite to a T. I have no idea why I hesitated to bring her into the living room.
I have always been an early adopter of all things electronic. I resisted this new phase because I believed it was going to make me lame somehow. It is really super good for those who truly have mobility issues because Echo will handle lights, thermostat, etc, once you set up the reciprocal systems at home. Alexa will happily have all your needs delivered to your door if you can’t make it out for some reason. She is a real pal. She will create shopping lists for you even if you want to shop yourself, the old fashioned way. You can tell her that you want to make a certain kind of cake and she will create a list of everything you need. She is no slacker when it comes to data. I understand she can call Uber, so today my goal is to set that up because that will be a power move. “Alexa, call me an Uber” will be a very magical thing to say once I know how to do it.
Do you have an Echo, gentle reader? What is your favorite part of Alexa’s many charms?
When I was growing up in a small suburb of Pittsburgh my town had a small police department. Oakmont was so small that neighborhood policing was natural, as well as the only option. Everyone knew everyone’s business and everyone’s children. The photo above of the 1947 Oakmont force with the mayor was only a few years before I took up residence in the town. This was taken, no doubt, on Memorial Day after the parade at the cemetery. This is probably all the motorcycle cops, with the mayor in the middle. None of the people in this picture could have imagined how much the role of the police would change in society.
I had a frank discussion recently with Officer Marquis, who is a motorcycle cop at TPD. I asked him what it is like to wear the vest. His answers surprised me because he brought up an issue I had never considered. He told me how hot it makes him. OMG, you are out in Tucson in the summer wearing leather boots, and now you need to add a ceramic vest to protect your vital organs!!! How cruel and unusual can your job be? I was just thinking about the way the weight compresses the spine, but he made me see another way the vest has unintended consequences. The K9s are not allowed to wear their vests for too long because it will overheat and damage their organs and possibly their brains. Meanwhile, we are roasting our human cops. Officer Marquis wears a lighter style vest with ceramic inserts that he adds when he wears it. I think this eliminates a few ounces of the total burden..but then there is the physical mastery of the bike, which is heavy in itself. Tough job.
We talked about his bike and other interesting stuff. He seemed pretty happy about his job, despite the roasting factor. I asked him if he feels like a target (this was months before the world truly went barbaric). He said yes. On his motorcycle he is obviously less protected than the car cops. He was not complaining and I am absolutely sure he would not have brought the subject up had I not done so. I went on to ask a couple more cops that day if they felt like targets. The other two said no, but I wonder what they might answer now, after the the violent events of last week. All cops have to feel like victims now, because it is a very reasonable assessment of the situation that prevails.
The lady cop vests look particularly uncomfortable. I am not sure how they are fitted, but this lady told me hers was as long as possible (makes sense). She said she does not feel like a target. I was apparently the only person from the fashion police who had ever asked her about it. It does not flatter the female figure, to say the least. Even Jessica Rabbit would look like the Marshmallow guy from Ghostbusters in the lady cop vest. This lady cop wears hers well and does not mind wearing it, but one can only imagine how attractive she is in real life.
I have become obsessed with this vest question. It is symbolic as well as physical. It does compress their spine and add weight for their skeleton to carry, as well as keep them safe. It heats them up and makes it hard to cool down. The looney in Dallas wore one himself. In Tucson the cops have to pay for their own because city taxes are not set aside for that. I am shocked that the city can get away with that. In private industry I don’t think you can demand that workers risk their lives and BYO safety equipment. Can you think of an example of that, gentle reader?
I doubt that people here know that there is a charitable organization here with a purpose of providing the vests to the individual cops. Adopt-a-Cop is the program provide this necessary safety equipment to the force, since as taxpayers we are not even doing THAT. We need to step up to solve our civil unrest problems on all sides. This seems like a basic step to take, Tucson. Let’s buy them vests. Then let’s get some new politicians who will put the vests in the city’s budget.
When I was a freshman a the University of Texas at Austin in 1968 I was an idealist. I was a folk singer, hum dinger. I protested the war in Viet Nam and civil rights atrocities. We thought that an egalitarian, high minded society was just around the corner. We thought the empire of fascist evil would end as soon as Barry Goldwater died. We knew less about world affairs then, but we knew that war was not only the only true sin amount nations, but also unconstitutional in the way it was being waged with no declaration. Since 1968 the United States has been at war with at least one part of the world all the time. Peace has not been achieved, and civil rights have been all but forgotten. Now we have the for profit prison system to mass incarcerate people of color, and laws designed specifically to feed that system. Our war on drugs has produced an epidemic of cheap heroin and an addiction crisis.
I was too young to march on Washington in 1963. I was busy living as an ex-pat petroleum princess in Venezuela. I spent a lot of time listening to Radio Havana because it was the only station that we got with a strong signal on the radio. I usually turned it off when Fidel went off on his speeches, but I liked the music from Cuba. Back in those days Venezuela had a natural contempt for Cuba and Fidel, and dependence on oil companies for their entire economy. This worked very well for the preteen petroleum princess, but not so well for the impoverished worker class. Like the historical Buddha I was exposed to suffering I never could have imagined in the world. The really interesting part was that my parents had no problem with the semi slavery and obscene show of wealth we enjoyed. I didn’t either until I thought about it. Now my own country has almost the same level of income disparity I observed in 1963 in Venezuela. The hippies have not yet accomplished our mission. I wonder if in the chaos and violence of this time, so similar to 1968, we might finally see the ship come in. The whole wide world is certainly watching.