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The Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly

December 28, 2016 1 Comment

My father used to play this on his guitar, and sing it to me throughout my childhood. Burl Ives made the song popular.  I vividly remember both my dad and Burl on television, singing the song.  I knew all the words and sang along with gusto.  I thought it was funny, but now I know it is also ironic.  This is a story about dependent arising. One thing leads to another. It may be a metaphor in a children’s story, but it applies to many circumstances in real life.

Many are suggesting that by unraveling the election and the campaign we will learn something to liberate ourselves.  I think not.  If we would, however, review the path taken to arrive at this political point in our national life we would have to admit that we, the people, are apathetic.  If the population pays no attention, and allows the much despised congress to have its way with us, they will surely continue to serve themselves more than they serve us.  There is an established trajectory now of the congressional mission.  They are allowed to campaign full time and serve the citizens very little.  They have been able to use lobbyists to write the legislation they will pass with little input for constituents at home.  Everyone complains about this, but nobody has voted it out of office. How do you think this ends?

The latest warning I have heard about was a big family argument over the holiday at my friend’s dinner table.  Her sister-in-law is Venezuelan, which is close to my heart because I lived there in the 60’s.  The Venezuelan lady was at odds with her own husband about how dangerous it is to normalize what seems to be extreme fascism.  She has lived in Tucson for a long time, but is still connected to her home.  My friend said the topic provided grist for the family anger mill all evening.  I relate to this because I still know some friends from my youth who are living in Caracas today.  Some have moved to the states to live a safe life.  What was once a prosperous country is completely out of toilet paper and food.  There is little security.  The position in which they find themselves now was the result of a series of actions taken in the distant past. I agree with my friend’s sister-in-law, who is much younger than I am, and witnessed the demise of the economy in person.  Perhaps Venezuela will swallow a horse and end the madness.  It would be very sad.  It would also be sad if we learn nothing from their history.  We have swallowed a fly…….what shall we do about it, gentle reader?

Venezuela

Venezuela

Venezuela

Venezuela

Self Determination, #VenezuelaMuereTuCallas

March 4, 2014 2 Comments

Tomorrow, 5 March, 2014, use #VenezuelaMuereTuCallas to share concern for the violence in Venezuela.  Brutality has broken out all around the globe lately, and none of it was spontaneous.  The seeds of ugly war have been planted long before they bear fruit this bitter and horrid.  It is hard to know if violence has been reduced or increased as a result of YouTube, twitter, and all digital formats.  What is surely true is that we are exposed to it in direct ways that were not possible in the past.  We shall know the truth and the truth will set us free…That is what I learned from reading the University of Texas tower, and I believe it.

The call to action bringing attention to the expanding crisis in this Caribbean nation with petroleum and a history of corruption is close to my heart.  I still have friends who live there.  With the violence heating up I am concerned for their safety.  It is the least I can do to spend some time tomorrow tweeting leaders in Washington.  You can use hash tags now on Facebook too, for those of you who don’t tweet. You just type it all as one word #VenezuelaMuereTuCallas.  It means Venezuela is dying and you are mute.  Please speak up and become informed, gentle readers.

Donde Vas, Venezuela?

February 21, 2014 4 Comments

I lived in Venezuela in the early 1960s.  My father was manager of operations for Mene Grande Oil Company, aka Gulf Oil.  I lived in San Tomé in a remote petroleum camp in the llanos.  I lived as a petroleum princess and listened to Radio Havana because it was the only station that came in clearly.  We lived an opulent life surrounded by fences and guards.  Trinidadians usually worked as servants in our homes because they were bilingual.  We had one very high lifestyle in every respect.

John Kennedy was shot before I moved to South America, which was unsettling.  Race riots were taking place in the states, but we were isolated from that reality hanging out at our private social club in the tropics.  We lived in extreme segregation, but thought nothing of it.  The seeds of revolution are planted many years before they mature.  The wealth discrepancy in South America was shocking, but since it was all to our advantage we were told it was inevitable.  These experiences all became part of my knowledge of the world and later part of  my politics.  I distrust all imperialists and their motives.

With a simplistic agenda to end unbearable insecurity the students began to march last week in all the cities in Venezuela. The outcome of this battle will be significant and was long in the making.

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