On the news, I watch our brave House and Senate members from various states, standing their ground, boldly asserting that “no Guantanamo detainee will ever reside in my state.”
Profiles in courage.
I’ve decided to swim against the tide. I am putting out the welcome prayer mat to Gitmo detainees.
In my back yard.
Let not it be said that Francis Moss ever shrunk from the tough jobs.
Of course, the government will need to build a secure facility in my back yard. I will turn over my kitchen for the preparation of the halal food those guys will want to eat. At night I will turn on the outdoor lights. I can set up speakers to broadcast calls to prayer.
My yard isn’t that big, but I figure if we stack the detainees vertically, we can just about fit them all, with a few square yards left over for exercise. If necessary the government has my permission to take over the house of my neighbor with the annoying dog, if more space is needed.
I think a thousand dollars per prisoner per week will be adequate payment for the sacrifice I’m willing to make. I have photographs of my back yard I will email to the appropriate authorities so they can start making plans.
I await the call.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Postscript… on the airplane from Cleveland to Burbank
I think my fear for our country has metamorphosed into a fear for President-elect Obama. Or vice-versa. I can remember the depression and funk our country fell into after the assassinations of the Kennedys and MLK. Some optimistic heart of America grew dark after that. I hadn’t felt much light until this year.
Watching those people in Grant Park, the tears and optimism and joy on those white and brown and yellow faces, made me more afraid than hopeful. If something bad happens, it’s all over for us. If something bad happens, we are already so deep in cynicism and doubt that we can never come out of it.
Ultimately, the election was about more than a politician, even a charismatic and eloquent one like Barack Obama. It was about Americans regaining, however tentatively, their capacity for hope again. Even those too young to have lived through the age of assassinations have their lives colored by it.
Or maybe it’s all the other stuff we’re going through, the failing wars, the terrible economy, the endless corruption and malfeasance in the highest offices in our land, that make our anticipation so dreadful and our last’s night’s joy so tentative.
I remember a young black woman in East Cleveland, getting out of her car to talk to me while I was canvassing. I said it was important to get out the vote because the bastards had stolen two elections, and we can’t let them steal a third.
With an angry glint in her eye, she said, “If they do, we are gonna tear this country up.”
Good thing Barack won by such a big margin.
I think I’m done here. Thanks to everyone who sent me messages of support, to those who were off doing Obama stuff on their own, and to those who just read and maybe even enjoyed this blog. Gobama.
Watching those people in Grant Park, the tears and optimism and joy on those white and brown and yellow faces, made me more afraid than hopeful. If something bad happens, it’s all over for us. If something bad happens, we are already so deep in cynicism and doubt that we can never come out of it.
Ultimately, the election was about more than a politician, even a charismatic and eloquent one like Barack Obama. It was about Americans regaining, however tentatively, their capacity for hope again. Even those too young to have lived through the age of assassinations have their lives colored by it.
Or maybe it’s all the other stuff we’re going through, the failing wars, the terrible economy, the endless corruption and malfeasance in the highest offices in our land, that make our anticipation so dreadful and our last’s night’s joy so tentative.
I remember a young black woman in East Cleveland, getting out of her car to talk to me while I was canvassing. I said it was important to get out the vote because the bastards had stolen two elections, and we can’t let them steal a third.
With an angry glint in her eye, she said, “If they do, we are gonna tear this country up.”
Good thing Barack won by such a big margin.
I think I’m done here. Thanks to everyone who sent me messages of support, to those who were off doing Obama stuff on their own, and to those who just read and maybe even enjoyed this blog. Gobama.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The geezer goes home
I watch the bloviating on TV this morning, getting ready to head for the airport. It is still not quite real. Watching Obama’s victory speech last night, I kept waiting for the gunshot to ring out. Some nutcase thinking he’s “doing the Lord’s work.”
A long time friendship might be lost as a result of this election. I wrote a high school friend about the “game-changing” nature of Obama’s (at the time) potential election. I got back a long and very angry email about Obama’s “hidden agenda” which to my friend means socialism. He rails against Obama’s associations (Revko, Ayres, Wright), ignores McCain’s actual acts (Keating Five, serial adultery).
I guess we all need to find reasons for our feelings. But I told him that the reality of an Obama Presidency would most likely be somewhere between the 2nd Coming and the reign of Satan on Earth.
We shall see. There are a lot of frightened people out there. Is it Obama’s race? His “socialist” agenda? Maybe both. We all need to do some reaching out.
I wound up watching the returns with my hosts, and not going to any parties. For those waiting for the racy pictures, I apologize. I was too tired.
A long time friendship might be lost as a result of this election. I wrote a high school friend about the “game-changing” nature of Obama’s (at the time) potential election. I got back a long and very angry email about Obama’s “hidden agenda” which to my friend means socialism. He rails against Obama’s associations (Revko, Ayres, Wright), ignores McCain’s actual acts (Keating Five, serial adultery).
I guess we all need to find reasons for our feelings. But I told him that the reality of an Obama Presidency would most likely be somewhere between the 2nd Coming and the reign of Satan on Earth.
We shall see. There are a lot of frightened people out there. Is it Obama’s race? His “socialist” agenda? Maybe both. We all need to do some reaching out.
I wound up watching the returns with my hosts, and not going to any parties. For those waiting for the racy pictures, I apologize. I was too tired.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Obama wins Ohio!
Phyllis calls me the moment that Ohio is projected for Obama. Of course I take credit for the win. As of 10:08 PM, Virginia is still up in the air. Since Virginia was the other state I considered volunteering in, I suspect it would be in the Obama win column had I gone.
Confronting racism
We start out as just another day of canvassing. Of course that it’s election day gives it an additional frisson of urgency. It’s GOTV… Get Out The Vote.
We operate out of Donna’s cozy house in western Lakeshore. Donna was an office person until we opened satellite offices in the neighborhoods, to attract more local volunteers and get more canvassing done.
Volunteers–ones I never see—deliver six-foot sub sandwiches, cases of water and soda, candy and fruit. We canvassers don’t go hungry.
Right as I begin the afternoon canvass, we get an emergency call from an east Cleveland office. They need help. We pile into cars and head off. We’re the Obama Campaign Lakeshore Flying Squad.
East Cleveland is another world. We pass street after street of abandoned factories, warehouses and apartment buildings, with boarded up windows and lawns gone to weeds. It is a nearly 100% black part of town.
The East Cleveland Obama campaign office has problems. I guess local volunteers haven’t shown up, so we take over.
My friend Alex and I cover one “turf” (a three block area in a precinct). It’s almost as if it doesn’t matter that the canvass didn’t get done. Every single person I talk to (and a lot more folks are at home than in the Lakeshore neighborhoods) has already voted. For Obama, of course. And they are universally friendly and enthusiastic.
The only racism I confront is my own. I am careful to park my car within sight of my canvass. And not because it might get towed. And I kind of urge Alex to canvass with me, instead of going alone, as I do in Lakeshore.
Feeling the warmth of the people we canvass, I am embarrassed at my bigotry.
Door hangers; kids for Obama
Monday after the rally, we canvass neighborhoods, but only to put those door hangers on every door in Lakeshore. On a sunny street, two boys about 10 or 11 are playing outside – in tee shirts! In Cleveland! In November!
We say hi, and I offer them an Obama button. One boy takes one, the other doesn’t, telling me his grandpa doesn’t like Obama.
On my return trip down the street, the little boy shows up, looking a bit downcast. He returns the button I’d given him, with the explanation: “My sister’s boyfriend says Obama stinks.” As he’s walking away, he adds: “But I still like him.”
We say hi, and I offer them an Obama button. One boy takes one, the other doesn’t, telling me his grandpa doesn’t like Obama.
On my return trip down the street, the little boy shows up, looking a bit downcast. He returns the button I’d given him, with the explanation: “My sister’s boyfriend says Obama stinks.” As he’s walking away, he adds: “But I still like him.”
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