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"The Long Road"

7/19/2018

    I just finished reading "The Long Road," a novel by Daniel Oliver chronicling a bright, ambitious young man's struggle with mental illness.
    This book is good, it's powerful, a page-turner. And yet what makes the novel so compelling is the eloquent yet matter-of-fact style in which it's told, its lack of unnecessary flourish, the seeming normalness of the main character's life, a life lived as much on the surface of daily events as everyone else's until suddenly one day it isn't.
     The story is realistically narrated in the first person by the protagonist, a hard-working engineering student named Hank Galloway who is back in school in his mid-20's after leaving a budding finance career in Charlottesville, North Carolina and moving to California with aspirations of working for NASA after he finishes his studies. The opening scene of the book finds Hank speeding down the California freeway in the middle of the night, breathless with anxiety and mental confusion that land him, against his will, in a psychiatric ward.
    The reader then follows the journey that began that night on a dark highway as Hank attempts to carry on with his life and achieve his goals burdened with a mental illness that his doctors and therapists seem unable to diagnose and that Hank tries to deny and ignore as it lies dormant until it attacks suddenly, wreaks havoc on his studies and relationships and pulls his goals further from his reach.
       The character's road to recovery will be indeed a long one requiring, among other things, learning to accept that his chronic illness, though one of the mind, is an illness all the same that needs to be acknowledged, accepted and attended to with the same vigilance and care as would a chronic physical ailment. Hank also realizes that he must scratch the surface of his relationship with his controlling, abusive father and his submissive mother in order to come to terms with his illness.
       The story likewise delves into the phenomenon that even abused children usually nevertheless retain their relationship with their parents as adults, not psychologically separating their desire for their parents' love and acceptance from the abuse they suffered during their childhood at their parents' hands.
       “The Long Road” gets into the weeds and details of living with a mental illness, of psychiatric treatment in a hospital ward and long term treatment with medication and therapy. The author, who drew his inspiration for his novel from his experience as a physician assistant in a psychiatric ward and his own struggles with mental illness, knows his subject well.
          In truth we all live in our minds and ultimately we all see and hear not what our eyes and ears tell us, but what our minds tell us. And so an unwell mind can twist and skew one's thinking, one's perception of reality and relationships of all kinds: physical and spacial, societal and personal.
     "The Long Road" is not one young man's story; rather it is the story of many millions, and well-told. With mental illness so prevalent – yet often misunderstood - among the population I would recommend this book as required reading for everybody.

        "The Long Road"
           By Daniel Oliver
      is available on Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Long-Road-Daniel-B-Oliver-ebook/dp/B079V5STM9/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1532029125&sr=8-1&keywords=the+long+road+daniel+oliver

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Mariia Butina

7/17/2018

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In case you're not worried and distressed enough that Donald Trump, after sowing seeds of hostility between the United States and our closest allies, has shown that he's a jelly-spined puppet in the hands of Russian dictator and puppet-master Vladimir Putin, to whom he handed a spectacular victory yesterday at the expense of our country...anyway, if all that isn't enough to give you a sick, nervous flutter in the pit of your stomach, then open today's newspaper to the third or fourth page - or scroll far down to the bottom of your news website of choice - and look for the small headline about the young Russian secret agent who was arrested the day before yesterday and charged with using politically powerful Americans to sway United States policy towards the advancement of Russian interests.
And though as of today this story is still relegated to the hinterland of the 24-hour news cycle - Thanks to Donald Trump, as always, monopolizing the headlines, this time with his own Russian folly - its implications are huge - and terrifying.

The spy, 29-year-old Mariia Butina,

...whose handler was a ruthless Russian criminal in the employ of his government named Alexander Torshin,

...came to the United States two years ago on a student visa with the purpose of becoming involved in our Presidential election and subsequently infiltrating American politics. This she was able to do with the help of a traitorous American operative who met with her in Moscow and helped her target politically powerful Republican officials and business men.
And the biggest, most prized target was then-Presidential candidate Donald Trump.
Mariia Butina became a player in what the New York Times called "a multi-faceted Russian effort to sway the election through computer espionage, personal overtures and the assistance of American intermediaries."

She posed as an impassioned guns rights advocate,

...and cozied up to a National Rifle Association big wig named Paul Erikson,

...who helped her to become the darling of conservative shakers and movers and to insinuate herself into pro-Trump circles.

Mariia Butina and Alexander Torshin with Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker at an NRA convention.

     During the 2016 election Butina tried twice though Paul Erikson to set up a meeting between Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin but Jarrod Kushner rejected the idea. She met and was photographed with with Donald Trump Jr. at an N.R.A. dinner.
     According to the New York Times, "Ms. Butina viewed the N.R.A. as a powerful force for shifting Republican policies...the largest sponsor of the elections to the U.S. Congress and as a sponsor of the Conservative Action Conference." Mariia Butina and Alexander Torshin were invited to events hosted by Republican-affiliated groups, including two National Prayer Breakfasts in 2016 and 2017. Through her N.R.A. connections and right-wing Christian Evangelical connections Butina was able to infiltrate other conservative organizations with the purpose of steering the Republican party towards a pro-Russia agenda.
     The main assignment towards which she was working was the establishment of "back channel" lines of communication between Russian operatives and American politicians so that, according to the Times, "these lines could be used by Russia to penetrate the U.S. national decision-making apparatus to advance the agenda of Russia."
      And with the help of the Republican politicians, N.R.A. officials, and Evangelical Christians with whom she ingratiated herself she might well have succeeded to this end if not for the work of our intelligence community and our Justice system,

...so frequently and harshly maligned by the man who is supposed to be our leader, the chief defender and steward of our nation's well-being.

We've spent so much time as a nation worrying about attacks by Islamic terrorists on our shores, as well we should, the September 11, 2001 attack on the Twin Towers in New York having stressed the importance of vigilance.
And yet here's the irony: Terrorists may have the ability to hurt individual citizens, but terrorists can never bring down our country or destroy our American Democracy. They have not the means for that.

Someone like this does, and so is far more dangerous and terrifying than any terrorist.

And here's one more thought worth pondering: Which is the political party Russian intelligence has gravitated to as the most likely conduit for infiltration into our government? For influencing policy away from the good of the American people and towards the advancement of Russia's interests? Which is the party whose members Putin's operatives have
targeted - correctly so, as is now evident - as low-hanging, easily plucked fruit?
Hint: It's not the Democrats.

Reference:
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/07/16/us/politics/trump-russia-indictment.html

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-44865626

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Open Mic At The Book Loft Of German Village

7/16/2018

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One of the many gems to be found in Columbus, Ohio is the downtown neighborhood known as German Village.

And the gem within the gem, as every book-lover in Central Ohio knows,

...is the The Book Loft of German Village,

...a beautiful 32-room book store,

...the rooms of which are an amazing maze of book-lined nooks,

...crannies,

...hallways,

...landings,

...and rooms,

..large,

...and small,

...the books spilling over onto tables outside on the patio.

     In truth, a trip to The Book Loft used to make me feel a little anxious - in the days before cellphones - as I imagined getting separated from whoever I was visiting the store with and not being able to find them again.
     Fortunately that never ended up happening. Most of the imaginary scenarios that give me anxiety don't end up happening.
     Still, a little over a week ago, Sunday, July 8, I found myself at The Book Loft of German Village once again feeling a little anxious. But this time I wasn't anxious about getting lost in the store, but rather about getting lost in the middle of my open mic book talk,

...as I was one of the scheduled speakers (even though they got my book title a little turned around on the flyer),

...at the yourbookmybook.com Authors at the Loft event.

It wasn't that I'd never spoken or performed in front of a crowd before, but rather that this was my first book talk in front of a live audience,

...not counting last year when I MC'd the Authors, Winners, & Wieners event at Dirty Frank's Hot Dog Palace (See post from 9/30/2017).

But then I wasn't really talking about my own book, but rather introducing other authors before they talked about their books,

...with a little stand-up thrown in.

When I arrived at the Book Loft last Sunday morning at around 10:30 some of the guest authors - most of whom I knew from previous book events we'd done together - had already been assigned their book-selling spaces on the patio.

K. Fetters

Alicia Wiggins and Silvia Rodríguez

Gary Thomas

Lasondra Burks

T.D. Ashcraft

And soon thereafter the Book Loft was packed with the usual Sunday crowd,

..inside the store,

...and outside.

As it turned out I was given a space inside the store,

...some prime real estate at the top of the second-story landing in the heart of the fiction section,

...from where I handed out hundreds of bookmarks, chapter samples and pieces of candy,

...and sold half-a-dozen books, half of them after my book talk, which went fine after all.

In fact, once I got into it,

...I was actually pretty chill.

Miguel Lopez, media production manager from yourbookmybook.com filmed the book talks.

Here's the link to mine in case anybody's interested in seeing it:
https://www.facebook.com/yourbookmybook/videos/2110468309210724/UzpfSTEwMDAwNjAzOTI0NDkyNDo4MjcwMTg4NTc1MDk0MTU/
In truth I was happy enough to have sold six books.

I mean, considering all the competition.

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The Lesson Of The Rubber Duck

7/14/2018

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Friday night a week ago, July 6, the Gahanna Area Arts Council (see post from 3/5/2018),

...held it's premier First Friday Arts in the Alley, an event the purpose of which was to promote community interest in local creatives (those who create),

...and to transform Gahanna, Ohio,

...already a delightful place in its own rite,

...into a thriving arts community that celebrates its artists, musicians, poets, performers, writers, and creators of all genres and media.

Being myself a member of the Gahanna Area Arts Council,

...or maybe more of a part-time member; er, maybe a part-time occasional hanger-on-type member...Anyway, I'm on the email list and so I the received the GAAC announcement that the organizers were looking for local creatives to represent at First Friday Arts in the Alley festivals in July, August, and September.

And so I bought a space for each date - $60 altogether for all three events, a phenomenal deal, thought I - from which to sell my creation.

As my $20 fee clinched me a huge spot - 10' x 10', just for me - I decided to go big with my display, of which I did a practice-set-up in my living room.

On the evening of the event I arrived at my designated space in a meadow bordered by the back of the alley off Mill Street, the main drag through the neighborhood known as Olde Gahanna,

(Mill Street)

...where other artists and vendors were already setting up.

There were also some representatives of community organizations,

...including the Columbus Art League,

...the representa-tive of which, a friendly, super-nice guy named Kevin, helped me and others set up our spaces.

Now, as I was setting up my space and observing others setting up theirs, I noticed from the corner of my eye some unusual activity going on nearby.

It appeared that a giant rubber duck was inflating to life.

It was, indeed, a giant rubber duck. With metal rings attached to its middle.

After the duck was inflated there was a flurry of activity around it,

...as workers fiddled with it then set up easels and photographs.

However by then event-goers were beginning to arrive,

...and so I had no time to walk over and check out the duck, as I had to woman my table.

Eventually Tom - who'd arrived with me but had to run back home to pick up some provisions I'd forgotten to bring - returned to man the table for me for a while and I was able to stroll around the grounds and have a look at the displays of some of the other artists and vendors.

A piano-painting activity.

As I strolled around the festival - which I was finding quite delightful - it occurred to me that that best real estate of the evening was the spaces that were located at the end of the alley close to Mill Street.

...which was where the crowds were mostly congregating,

...until I realized that, though most of the action was in the alley or near the front end of the meadow,

...everybody eventually meandered over to see the giant rubber duck,

...of necessity passing by my table on their way.

And I'm sure it was thanks to the duck that I sold a decent number of books that night.

Towards the end of the evening I had time to go look at the duck myself and learn its story.

The description on the easel read:

And I thought to myself, What a wonderful world this could be.

At the end of the night, after everyone had packed up and the rubber duck had deflated down to two big bright yellow mounds, Tom and I decided to grab a bite at the Gahanna Grill,

...which somehow looked kind of magical.

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Lucky Thirteen

7/12/2018

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     Dear Future Cyberarchivist who, while sifting through ancient internet postings from bygone centuries in search of history, has come across this blog chronicling the events and observations of a typical day-to-day life in the first quarter of the 21st Century AD:
     This is a troubled, turbulent time in the history of mankind. Civil wars, religious wars, persecution inflicted on the weak by the powerful and ruthless in the name of religion, tribalism, nationalism, patriotism, and any other number of divisive -isms have turned a sizeable area of our globe into a theater of suffering. In my own country the political polarization is so severe that it cripples the progress of our nation and sometimes borders on hatred between members of opposing political parties. Long-standing world alliances that have kept peace, cooperation and amity among democratic nations for more than half a century are dangerously close to unraveling and ambitious dictators are gaining in power and influence on the world stage because of the outrageous capriciousness and avarice of the leader of the world's most powerful nation.
     The only thing that ever seems to unify mankind is an occasional terrible tragedy that joins us in our sorrow.
      Then the day before yesterday a miracle happened.
     The day before yesterday, July 10, 2018, saw the whole world rejoicing as one, the joy not portioned out to winners over losers, nor to one nation, ideology, theology or political persuasion over another.
     The day before yesterday was a day when we could all be happy together, and in our world-wide happiness bound together as well, even if only for a day, not by our tribal interests but by our humanity.
     For, as everyone on the planet knows, 12 boys from a small town in Thailand, members of a soccer team called the Wild Boars, and their soccer coach had been lost for ten days,

...then found almost 2 miles inside a cave they'd been exploring when a flash flood of monsoon waters suddenly filled the cave and left the boys and their coach stranded on a high shelf above the deep water.

The world watched, waited and worried as Thai Navy Seal divers, with the help of experts who rushed in from around the globe, spent five days planning and setting up a rescue system of ropes and tethers, oxygen tanks and stretchers, a problematic, precarious and dangerous undertaking during which one Thai diver died when his oxygen ran out.

Massive pumps were engaged in an effort to drain out as much water as possible from the narrow cave channels:

   The mission was a race against time, as the monsoon rains were expected to resume at any time and more flood water could end all hope of rescuing the young soccer team and their coach. Parents around the world felt the pain of the parents whose children were trapped in that cave as we all thought of our own children and worried about the boys, ages 11 through 16, fearing that they'd never make it out alive.
   And yet, by some miracle, along with the ingenious engineering of the rescue system and incredible skill of the Thai Navy Seals and a group of international expert divers - 90 divers from Thailand and around the world in all - they did make it out alive, all twelve boys and their coach.
     On Sunday, July 8, five days after the boys were found, the dramatic rescue began. No details were available of how the rescue was being effectuated, but that day the news broke that two boys had been rescued. A few hours later came word that two more boys were safe.
   The following day, Monday, July 9, amid reports that the rains were moving in and the oxygen level in the cave was falling by the day and would soon drop to a dangerous level, four more boys were rescued. This left four remaining boys and their coach still in the cave.
     In the meantime no one was told, not even the families of the boys, which boys had been rescued and hospitalized and which were still in the cave. And so it was hope mixed with anxiety as the world continued to watch, wait, and pray for the five left in the cave. That all thirteen would survive was surely too much to hope for.
      And then on Tuesday, July 10, came the news: All the the boys and their coach had been saved.
       This news seemed nothing short of miraculous. My own heart swelled with happiness at the news an I was among I'm sure the many who spent the day offering prayers of thanksgiving and gratitude for the safety of the boys.

Because in these boys I saw my own son,

...and in the images of their heartsick mothers,

...now rejoicing,

...I saw myself.
The details of how the boys were rescued were unclear for the first day after they were rescued. At first it was reported that the boys were led out on tethers by divers.

But the today it was confirmed that, following a brilliant plan devised by members of the rescue team, the boys were sedated, outfitted in scuba diving gear with oxygen tanks and tied to stretchers that were passed from team to team along the length of the cave until they reached the exit where they were handed off to medical personnel and transported to the hospital.

Photos of the the heroic divers hauling a stretcher under water through the cave.

      Perhaps as amazing as the rescue of the Wild Boars is the means by which they survived in the cave before the rescue.
        Apparently the boys' coach, a young former Buddhist monk, kept the boys calm and brave during the ordeal by having them practice meditation and by carefully distributing what food there was among the boys, declining to eat any of the food himself. Medical experts have theorized that it may have been the meditation that kept them alive and well, as it lowered their breathing rate, saving precious oxygen, and kept them from being overcome by fear or panic.
      Now the Wild Boars are all safe and recovering in the hospital,

...and the world has a new band of heroes.

And so, dear Cyberarchivist, the world is now a happier place.
At least for today.

References:
https://www.cnn.com/2018/07/09/asia/thai-cave-rescue-mission-intl/index.html

https://www.yahoo.com/news/meditation-sacrificing-meals-wild-boars-170938531.html

https://www.yahoo.com/news/thailand-cave-rescue-water-pumps-065632360.html

https://www.newsx.com/world/thai-cave-rescue-tham-luang-cave-thailand-rescue-operation-12-boys-4-boys-coach-divers-navy-team-rescue-missions

https://www.theguardian.com/world/ng-interactive/2018/jul/03/thailand-cave-rescue-where-were-the-boys-found-and-how-can-they-be-rescued

https://www.cnn.com/2018/07/12/opinions/thai-boys-who-were-trapped-in-cave-have-powerful-survival-tool-de-la-rosa/index.html

https://www.vox.com/2018/7/12/17564360/thai-cave-rescue-boys-mission-diver-ben-reymenants

https://www.theguardian.com/news/2018/jul/11/thailand-cave-rescue-water-pumps-failed-just-after-last-boy-escaped

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Yankee Doodle Me

7/9/2018

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"Equal and Opposite Reactions"
                By Patti Liszkay
               Buy it on Amazon
            http://amzn.to/2xvcgRa

"It's Hallmark meets the Sopranos in this fun and engaging read."
"Lots of sass, drama and wicked humor."
"The characters were hilariously and perfectly flawed."
"Cleverly plotted and exceptionally well written... part drama and part slapstick comedy."
"Funny and thought provoking and entertaining!"
"A rollicking good yarn."
-Amazon reviews

Last Wednesday, the 4th of July, I did something I hadn't done in 57 years:

I participated in a 4th of July pa-rade.

In truth, once I outgrew the thrill of entwining the spokes of my bike with red, white and blue crepe paper on July 4th and parading with all the other kids on their patriotically papered bikes through our Northeast Philadelphia neighborhood,

...the view from the front yard of my old house,

...I subsequently lost interest in parades in general, and I don't believe I've been to a July 4th parade, either as a participant or spectator,

... since my children were young enough to care about swooping up the candy that it is de rigueur in these parts for marchers and float-riders to toss at the crowds as they pass by.

However this year I received word from the Gahanna Area Arts Council (See post from 3/5/2018),

...that they were looking for folks to represent in Gahanna's 4th of July parade and hand out flyers for the upcoming Arts in the Alley event,

...which I had, in fact, made a Facebook ad for:

So I figured, eh, sure, I can march in the parade and promote the arts in Gahanna, especially since the Scoutmaster would likewise be in the parade with his cub scout den on the float that they'd made in our garage.

So on the morning of July 4th I decked myself out in the most artily patriotic trappings I could find in my closet: a pair of red scrub pants that my daughter Theresa gave me (because, according to Theresa, scrubs are the most comfortable pants on the planet and so I should have a pair);

...Theresa, here with her wife Callie,

... the blue moisture-wicking shirt I haven't worn since I walked the 497-mile Camino de Santiago de Compostela a couple of years ago (see www.and lightenyourpack.com);

...me in my blue shirt, trying to ward off gnats on the Spanish Meseta on the Camino;

...a sleeveless white blouse over the blue shirt and my royal blue tennis shoes with the turquoise laces.
I then walked the mile from my house to the parade staging area,

...and sought out the Gahanna Area Arts Council group,

Christian and Kevin, the GAAC parade oragnaizers,

...only to find, surprisingly and somewhat embarrassingly,

...that I was dressed 'way artier than anybody else in the arts groups.

However, there were plenty of other paraders rocking the red, white and blue.

In any case, the colors were well-represented in all the floats, vehicles, and marching groups as we lined up in the parking lot then waited for our turn to enter the street and join the parade.

Tom's cub scout den, looking forward to water-spraying the crowd.

When it was our turn we Gahanna Area Arts Council marchers headed out,

...and joined the parade.

Though by the time we joined the parade, around 11 am, the temperature was close to 90 degrees, still the street of our suburb was lined with hundreds of spectators,

...who were more than happy to be water-sprayed by the cub scouts and soccer teams who gleefully sprayed the crowd as their floats passed by.

Though for me the biggest treat as I marched and handed out my flyers was watching the children as they scrambled to gather up the candy tossed from the floats and by the marchers,

...just seeing the crowd gathered here together,

...in a peaceful celebration,

...of our beautiful, diverse nation,

...left me with a warm, 4th-of-July feeling,

...and gratitude for being here among this crowd of my fellow Americans on this day.

After the mile-long parade walk, feeling dehydrated and heat-prostrated,

...Tom and I stopped at the Gahanna Grill (open, thankfully, on the holiday) for some nourishment and hydration.

Happy 9th of July, everyone!

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Thoughts On The 4th Of July

7/4/2018

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A couple of days ago I read on CNN about the 7-year-old Guatemalan
girl - one of the 2,000 refugee children taken away from their parents when the families stepped across our southern border seeking asylum - who after two months in detention in Michigan was reunited this past Sunday with her mother in Florida.

Reading this family's story, seeing the photographs,

...watching the video of the moment of the reunion of the mother and her child,

...listening to the mother tearfully recount her fear that she'd never again see her child and her anxiety that her husband, who was still detained in Texas, would be deported; all those words and images tore at my heart, as do all the stories and images of all the separated children and their parents.

     But there was something else in this article that struck me, a message that this mother, tears streaming down her face, wished to send to other mothers: "If you're thinking of claiming asylum here, find another country. The laws here are harsh. And people don't have hearts."
      Those words stung, as I'm sure they were intended to, and I found myself grieving not only for the suffering of the refugee parents and children who had the bad luck of asking for amnesty during a brief ill-fated six-week period of "zero tolerance" from May to June, but for the fact that our country is now being seen by some of the most vulnerable people on the planet as a land of harsh laws full of heartless people.
       Those words made me sad because in truth there is no law of our land that calls for young children to be taken from their parents and then carelessly lost in a chaotic operation with no system in place to find them.
       That is not American law.

Tearing apart asylum-seeking families was merely a capricious passing whim of this man-child who's always seeking entertainment and gratification,

...this particular whim being carried out by two of his more virulent sycophants.

   And so it's not our laws that have turned our country into a theater of cruelty in the eyes of this mother and the world. Our laws are not of themselves harsh. We are a democracy, and as a nation hold high the pursuit of fairness, decency and justice, though this pursuit is ever on-going, always a pursuit in progress.
And whatever our disparate political persuasions or differing interpretations of our laws, I don't believe that Americans as a whole want to see immigrants, even undocumented immigrants, treated cruelly. None of us likes that over 2,000 children and babies were taken from their parents, some put in cages, some sent to places of detention over a thousand miles away from their parents with no agency in place to reunite them. None of us wanted to see that happen.
      Because the truth is that we Americans do have hearts. We have big hearts. We are warm, friendly, out-going, generous, engaging people. We like to help others. We are, for the most part, good people, and we like to be seen as good people in the eyes of the world, which isn't hard, as we Americans really are, as individuals, likeable. And for the most part we mean well. And as a country, though far from perfect and with many wrongs notched into our history, we usually end up doing the right thing, eventually, even if it's as a last resort.
       Which is why it hurts to see my country being chastised as a harsh place full of heartless people.

And yet what other impression could that mother have at this point?

Still I hope she knows of the outrage that has flamed all across our nation over what was done to her child and 2,000 others.

I hope she knows that millions of Americans have taken to the streets to demand the reunification of families who have been separated,

...and that the angry, sorrowful outcry continues from sea to sea.
I wish this mother could know that there are millions of Americans who wish with all their hearts that they could do something for all the separated and lost children and for the other mothers and fathers who continue to suffer what she's suffered.

I wish she could know that, contrary to how we've been represented,

...we Americans really do care.

Most of all I wish that all the children who've been taken from their parents might somehow, someway, survive what was done to them. I hope somehow, some way, they all make it.

And I hope that somehow, some way, this mother, her husband,

..and her children,

...are granted asylum and allowed to stay here in the United States to work and pursue a better life.
And I wish that somehow, someway, on some 4th of July years down the road this mother and her family would find themselves celebrating being a part of this wonderful country and one of its good, caring, big-hearted people.

Happy 4th of July from Gahanna, Ohio, everyone.

References:
https://www.cnn.com/2018/07/01/us/guatemala-mother-daughter-reunion/index.html

https://www.miamiherald.com/latest-news/article214251419.html

https://www.yahoo.com/news/7-old-girl-guatemala-reunites-164426157.html

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"Families Belong Together," Columbus, Ohio

7/1/2018

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Yesterday, Saturday, June 30, hundreds of thousands of people in 700 cities in every state rallied and marched in demonstrations protesting Donald Trump's cruel "zero tolerance" policy against asylum seekers at our southern border.

Among them were demonstra-tors in Atlanta carrying baby dolls in a dog cage representing children kept in cages on concrete detention center floors,

...Lin Manuel Miranda marching in Washington D.C.,

...and singing a lullaby to children whose parents aren't there to sing to them,

...and Leah, a 12-year-old American-born daughter of an undocumented domestic worker giving an impassioned speech on behalf of suffering refugee parents and children.

Tom, Tommy, Emily and I joined the marchers who gathered in front of the Ohio Statehouse for Columbus's Families Belong Together demonstration and march, which took place from 10 am to noon.

Tom and I decided to take the bus into town, about a 45-minute ride from Hamilton Road in Gahanna,

...with a change in Whitehall at Broad Street,

...then up Broad Street to 3rd Street across from the Statehouse where we de-bussed,

..and joined the others on their way to the demonstra-tion.

The path to the Statehouse was lined with folks displaying posters.

...and the Statehouse steps were also filling up with demonstra- tors,

...as was the lawn and plaza in front of the Statehouse.

There were lots of young families representing,

...and folks of all ages.

We met up with Emily and Tommy on the plaza, where they were holding a couple of beautiful posters that Emily had made.

By the time the rally began at a little after 10 am, over 2,000 people had gathered at the Ohio Statehouse.

Some of the signs held up by demonstrators quoted Scripture,

...and some Mr. Rogers

There were a number of speakers who gave inspiring speeches with heartening messages.

     One of the speakers told us that one day our children and grandchildren will ask us what we did when the children were being taken from their parents and locked up. He said that we'd be able to say that we stood up for the children,that we made noise, though he reminded us that nothing makes as much noise as the sound of feet marching to the polls.
      Another speaker listed what should be the four take-aways from today for everyone of us:
      1. Love your neighbor
     2. If you know or meet any immigrants, be they Hispanics, Muslims, or whoever, let them know that they're welcome here.
       3. Continue to agitate.
       4. Vote, and make this the issue that you live and die on.
        After all the speakers had finished we marched down High Street,

...around to State Street,

...up 3rd Street,

...to Broad Street,

...then back around to High Street,

...where a small faction of the group went rogue and proceeded to block the busy intersection at Broad and High,

...but only for a few minutes, fortunately.

Then the march was over,

...and everyone went our separate ways,

...energized,

...hoping, as we walked away, that we'd done some good.

As for me, I felt, if nothing else, that the truth of the message of Emily's sign, inspired by a line from "Hamilton," was spot on and a reminder not only to Donald Trump, but to us all.

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Chris And Simi's Weddings, Part 4: The Christian Ceremony

6/29/2018

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Chris And Simi's Weddings, Part 4: The Christian Ceremony

...Continued from yesterday:
At 4 pm Saturday afternoon the bus arrived at the Courtyard by Marriott to shuttle the guests to the nearby Water Works, the venue of Chris and Simi's Christian wedding ceremony.

Located on the Schuylkill River at the foot of the majestic Philadelphia Museum of Art,

...The Fairmount Water Works was Philadelphia's old municipal waterworks, built in 1812.
Today the Water Works is a museum and popular wedding venue.

The bus let us off near the back entrance of the Art Museum and, as the wedding didn't begin until 5:30 pm, some of the guests enjoyed a stroll around the grounds.

The wedding was held beneath this columned shelter,

...which offered lovely views of the river.

The altar

Parents of the bride, Jayendra and Kashmira.

There was cold water available for the guests - my brother Joe
here -

...also champagne - Callie and my sister romaine here -

...while we socialized,

...got ready,

...or just sat nicely.

My brother Michael (back row, center) and his wife Louise (second row, second from the right) and their ten children with their spouses and children.

Tom with Blonnie Brooks, the super-nice photographer.

At 5:30 pm,

...Chris appeared with the celebrant, Father Phelim Jordan,

...the music began,

...the attendants processed,

...and for the second time that day Simi looked stunning walking down the aisle,

...this time on the arm of her father.

It was a lovely ceremony,

...during which there were readings by Chris's sister Maura,

..and his mother, Theresa.

Lighting the Unity Candle

And then for the second time that day, Chris and Simi were joined as man and wife.

After the wedding the guests walked over to the pre-reception hall,

...where we were treated to a magnificent array of the most awesomely delicious
hors d'oeuvres.

After the hors d'oeuvres, we proceeded to the reception tent,

...checking the table seating chart on the way.

The reception tent was beautifully set up,

...the gorgeous cake in its place of honor.

The patio afforded beautiful views of the Water Works and the Art Museum,

...as well the Schuylkill River and a bit of city skyline,

...the view more beautiful in the setting sun.

When we arrived the 14-piece rock band was already playing.

They were so lively and wonderful that the guests couldn't resist getting out on the dance floor,

...which quickly became a crowded, happy place.

After about an hour the Simi and Chris arrived,

...and danced their first dance to "You Are The Best Thing" by Ray LaMontagne.

Then, after speeches filled with love and good wishes by Simi's father, Chris's mother, and Chris's best man, dinner arrived.

The meal, traditional spicy hot Indian dishes, was served family style in bowls that we passed around the table.

After dinner Simi danced with her dad,

...and Chris with his mom,

...and then we all joined back in the dancing and celebrating.

Later in the evening there arrived the most spectacular and yummy assortment of desserts.

Then the reception was over, and every guest on their way out the door was given a wrapped slice of the delicious vanilla buttercream wedding cake.

It was a sweet ending to a beautiful beginning.

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Chris And Simi's Weddings, Part 3: The Hindu Ceremony

6/27/2018

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Chris And Simi's Weddings, Part 3: The Hindu Ceremony

...Continued from yesterday:

The Hindu wedding ceremony took place in the Bellevue Hotel,

...in the hotel's Grand Ballroom, which had been beautifully set up for the occasion.

Jim and Theresa, parents of the groom

Outside the hall there was a shrine to Ganesha, the god of beginnings.

There were also ice-filled buckets holding cold drinks for the guests, of which we were greatly appreciative, having just danced our way through downtown Philadelphia (see yesterday's post).

The ceremony began with the entrance of the groom accompanied by Jayendra and Kashmira, parents of the bride.

They removed their shoes then ascended to the stage, where the priest officiated the beautiful hour-long ceremony,

...which consisted of blessings, prayers, counsels and rituals,

...including hiding the groom,

...for the entrance of the bride,

...and the moment the cloth is lowered,

...so that the bride and groom can now see each other for the first time, as was the case in traditional arranged marriages where the couple had not met before.