- OE - lists.wedgeblade.net

Fwd: GMCA Aug 13-14
by David Zahrt via OE 19 Aug '14

19 Aug '14

*WED AUG 13* *Des Moines to Mitchellville, IA* I inquired about bike trails and was able to find one. I had to ride around the south end of the Fairgrounds where the State Fair was still going so the traffic was bumper to bumper. I finally got to the trail and took it to Altoona. It was so nice to be on a trail—shade, no traffic, and gradual inclines. At Altoona I got on Hwy 6: it should be called Old Hwy 6 because it’s an old highway! On the way I saw as number of cattle yards. I was reminded of the times I managed a herd of cattle. I kept them where I wanted them, and moved them from one place to another opening and closing gates. They had been trained to be obedient to my commands. That reminded me of the woman on the March that wants to treat the marchers like a herd of cattle. Mitchellville has a Woman’s Correctional Institution. I wondered if the woman who’s treating the March like a herd of cattle should be placed in the Correctional Institution. I rode into Mitchellville and discovered that I had ridden 2 miles past the Daniel Mitchell Park where we were to camp at night. So I rode 2 miles back to camp. There were meetings scheduled but the Marchers were late, so they didn’t happen. JJ and I went back to the library in Mitchellville. We stayed and didn’t look at our watches. We left for camp wondering if we’d missed dinner. We were late but there was still something to eat. There was no evening meeting. I put my sleeping bag/mat out under a tarp. The tarp collected dew and my sleeping bag was very damp in the morning. I won't do that again unless the tarp is waterproof. *THUR AUG 14* *Mitchellville Park to Newton, IA* I left as soon as the Circle-up was done. I have forgotten that Iowa has such rolling terrain: up and down hills on old Hwy 6. They’ve re-named this section F48. Colorado and Nebraska had shoulder (bike lanes) 5-7 ft wide. I don’t understand why Iowa has such poor bike lanes. Sometimes they’re non-existent. The best ones are 2 ft wide. If they are 3 ft wide they have washboard-like grooves that leave a little more than a foot for the bike to ride on. I went to the 1st Presbyterian Church. Right across the street was the United Presbyterian Church: both giant buildings! There was a potluck and a series of presentations. One of the presenters was a Dan Kelley, a state legislator who knows Ed, and he sited all of the work Iowa has been doing to create investments in and employment for renewable energy. When the presentations were finished we were introduced to the families that were hosting us overnight in home-stays. Carl and Barb Zacheis hosted 5 of us; Ed, his son plus a dog, Kelsey, Juliana, Zach S., and me. Kelsey is among those who have filed *Our Children’s Trust *lawsuit against the State of Oregon. She was recently informed that she will be on Bill Moyers’ show. On arrival I immediately took a bath in the tub. Then I went downstairs to the lounge where the rest were gathered. We didn’t talk for long because the plan was to return to the church at 7am. That meant getting up, packing, loading, and returning to the church by 7am. We went to bed and kept the morning schedule. -- Peace, David

1 0

FERGUSON SITUATION UPDATE, Weds, August 13- Monday, August 18
by Ellie Stock via OE 19 Aug '14

19 Aug '14

Hi folks, As you've been following the news, the saga in Ferguson/Dellwood continues--another update below. Many of you have probably experienced similar situations in the 1960s or even much later. One song that was led by several black participants accompanied by a drum during a prayer march Saturday, was "This Little Light of Mine, I'm Going to Let It Shine". I thought of Charles Moore. Ellie elliestock(a)aol.com West Florissant Avenue was blocked off again Wednesday night, August 13--due to protesters in the street which ended in a confrontation with police/tear gas when the protestors wouldn't disperse. Helicopters continued to hover over the area until after we went to bed at night. Reporters and a St Louis alderman were arrested for no reason. We continue to take our daily morning walks through the back streets of Dellwood (where we live--Dellwood is surrounded on three sides by Ferguson) and Ferguson and talk with black neighbors and residents. All are against the violence but all feel the officer should be charged. Some (but not all) of the protesting crowd is thinking with their feet and responding from emotion and personal experience of previous harassment by the police. Others are praying calmly but earnestly with their feet. The protests will continue for a while. Thursday morning, August 14, one peaceful march went through the fire department prior to a press conference given by the police chief. Senator Claire McCaskill was also in the neighborhood and responded to reporters after the press conference, expressing the hope that the militarization of the police response would decrease. Gov. Nixon was back in town, put the highway patrol in charge of the riot control, met with a number of community groups and put in place a different plan for dealing with the protestors, especially during the evenings when crowds were gathering around the burned out QT station. That seemed to work better--police interacting with the crowds instead of threatening them. Thursday evening a peaceful march, consisting of church and other community groups was marching up and down West Florissant Road. I would guess maybe 300 or more people were involved. The road was open but traffic slow due to people gathering. When we returned from an event at 11pm that same evening, crowds were still gathering and marching on the street. Marches and vigils were held in NYC, Chicago, Kansas City and other cities. Ferguson covered in global news. Friday morning, August 15, the Ferguson police chief announced the name of the police officer. Unfortunately, he also gave info re a robbery that Michael Brown participated in before the police officer stopped him in the street--which was not related to the robbery. That announcement plus still shots and video of the robbery are seen by the black community as a diversion by the police department to take the attention away from the killing of the teen and evidence in defense of the office; and it escalated the tension after it had quieted the night before. Name speakers, including Jesse Jackson spoke at a Methodist church in Ferguson tonight. We decided not to go. Crowds were still gathering and protesting on West Florissant--the main street where the "action" is occurring. Al Sharpton returned for another rally Sunday. Saturday, Aug 16, at noon, a week from the day/time Michael Brown was shot, we went to the prayer vigil organized by local ministerial groups. It started at the site on Canfield Drive, the street where Michael Brown was killed. It is the main, but not big, road in a low-income apartment complex. To our surprise, Jesse Jackson was there. He was a much more subdued Jesse and led two very helpful prayers. Then pastors were asked to fan out and meet with/listen to residents on the street and around the apartment complex which we did for a while. Then, we started walking toward West Florissant, turning on West Florissant and walking north into Dellwood up to Chambers and West Florissant (not quite a mile) The walk turned right and headed east on Chambers--we had to leave and walked back home. There were hundreds involved, black and white, local, regional and out of town folk. Peaceful but passionate. After cleanup from some looting Friday night, people gathered on West Florissant all day, despite rain much of the day, most dispersing by the newly-established midnight curfew. However there were those who were non-compliant, so the highway patrol (now in charge of crowd control) used tear gas to disperse some and arrested others. One person was shot--not by police. No looting Saturday night. The helicopters stopped flying over but the whirling and swirling of competing multi-levels of law enforcement and governments trying to deal with this situation still hover over the situation. By Sunday morning, August 17, the street was calm when we drove through on our way to church. By the time we returned from church (almost 3pm), traffic was clogging the street--don't know if there was another march or people just rubbernecking as they drive by the protesters gathered there. We turned off and took the back road home. Sunday, we and part of the Earth Care Team led a service, that we had been preparing for weeks, at Second Presbyterian Church (Central West End, St Louis)--related to God's creation--originally to be held outside in Tower Grove Park, but due to the rain, we held it around tables in the fellowship hall, with an indoor picnic afterwards. The theme of the service was "The Garden Extraordinaire" in three parts: "Experiencing the Extraordinary (Awe and Wonder) in the Midst of the Ordinary", "The Groaning of Creation", and "Tending the Garden". Beginning with a context for the service and during "The Groaning of Creation" and "Tending the Garden" and intercessory prayers, we were able to reflect/share around the tables the issues re caring for God's creation and also the Ferguson situation and write down some next possible steps to support Ferguson and address racism. During the offertory, I sang a song I wrote "Let the Earth Breathe". The last lines are timely for both creation and civil unrest: Let rhythms of peace still conflict's pace, emerging, connecting in trust's healing place, bold creatures revealing hope's eternal face, beloving, one dwelling in Earth's sacred space. Sunday afternoon we watched the Al Sharpton rally held in a packed church where Michael Brown's parents, their lawyer, Jesse Jackson, Capt. Johnson (Highway patrol officer in charge of crowd control) were present. In the evening, before curfew, the turbulence returned. Again, on TV, we watched until after midnight reporters making the announcement about the autopsy, the protestors, the looters, the armed police and trucks maneuvering for control of West Florissant Road. As the crowd was dispersed with tear gas, protestors and looters moved north on West Florissant into Dellwood, three blocks from our house. We heard gunshots from our house. The now-familiar helicopter returned, hovering noisily overhead with its spotlight focused on West Florissant--not a comforting lullaby. Monday, August 18, schools' starting date was postponed again. The National Guard is on site. A press conference was held with more details about the autopsy--conflicting conclusions being used from these preliminary results of the autopsy. More comments from Gov. Nixon, President Obama. Protests in downtown St. Louis. The residents, feeling unsettled, are disgusted with the violence that has destroyed much, disrupted the daily work and patterns of the community, and don't want the violent elements of the protestors to be tolerated. A peaceful protest to end at sundown is being called for this evening. Meetings of collaborating groups continue to evolve. Reporters are ubiquitous. And so the situation continues to unfold, minute by minute.

1 0

Sustainable September at ICA-USA
by Terry Bergdall via OE 18 Aug '14

18 Aug '14

I was struck recently with David Zahrt's report about difficulties his co-marchers had in answering the question "what practical action can be taken in response to the immense challenges confronting us due to climate change?" There is, of course, no simple answer. In addition to our neighborhood work on sustainability -- by which we mean an emphasis on justice, equity, and diversity, etc, as well as environmental action -- ICA-USA has a full schedule of events occurring next month. For your information, please find attached a full description of "ICA Sustainable September." These activities has also given us courage to venture into "crowd funding" for the very first time. Please take a look the link below and provide some feedback on what you think makes "crowd funding" efforts most successful. We also, of course, would appreciate you passing this on to friends and any other support that you might have offer. Thanks, Terry https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/ica-sustainable-september

1 0

Fwd: August 22 for ST from Jaime
by via OE 18 Aug '14

18 Aug '14

Canuck Zhinoy Canadian Bilingual Canadien is the object of public schooling in aplace that prides itself as a mosaic of varied colors. Though the signage is only in English andFrench, the lilt of the Irish and Scot, gruff of the German and Russian,Ukrainian and Finn, and the sing-songs of the Hindi, Chinese, and Filipino werespoken by the population I heard cruising among the plaid-shirted,buckled-denim-pants, hat-and-boots crowd of the Calgary Stampede. Nunavut is actually home to the First Nations, a term thatcovers a multitude of self-esteems. Agrouping names the Woodland First Nationsin the dense boreal forest of the northeast; the Iroquoian First Nations that inhabit the southernmost fertile areafor corn, beans and squash - cousins to the 'Indians' who smoked with thePilgrim's progress in their first thanksgiving dinner after a year of survivinga harsh winter in the Atlantic coast; and the Plains First Nations that lived in the grasslands of the Prairies,whose maidens warmed up to Scot, Irish, and Welsh fur trappers, rendering themas the forsaken Metis folks (mixedblood) I once worked with in Saskatchewan and Manitoba. Then we have the PlateauFirst Nations that dots the semi-desert arid air south of the high mountainsand dense forest in the north; the PacificCoast First Nations whose fingerprints are left in abundant shellfish andsalmon consumed in gigantic red cedar buildings and huge houses; and the First Nations of the Mackenzie and YukonRiver Basins that weathers the harsh environment of swampy muskeg terrain, barren land, and dark forest. Like the rest of the aborigines and indigenes elsewhere, ifthey had not yet been decimated by the genocidal policies of Indo-Aryan'sracial superiority, they are relegated to providing native costumes to localfests, at best, the recipients of well-intended dole, and, at worst, thevictims of deliberate oppression, sad in either case. Our playful title of the CanuckZhinoy Canadian encompasses the Canadien (Canuck used by Canadians thoughused pejoratively in the U.S.), the Zhinoy (am coining the new word in lieu ofthe pejorative "Chinoy") workers that now do the manual labor ineateries and retail fronts in shops, and the Celt-Anglo-Teutonic of the ranchfarms and the coat-and-tie Canadians that dominates the country's politicalstables, all visible in Spadina, Toronto any given day. I identify with the growing Zhinoy (like Champinolinians for Chamorro, Pilipinoand Carolinian mix), a clear Sino-Indo-Malay blend now in worldwidediaspora. One of my children who addedCelt-Anglo-Teutonic shades to her genetic mix had a banner flying at heruniversity declaring: "mongrels of the world, unite!" This is different from her Metis brothers and sisters whoseself-depreciating story was ingrained by the ambivalent non-treaty categorythey endured when the purist perspective of Canadian dispensation thought themdispensable as the elk and the uranium. I was in Sichuan in southwest China not too long ago, in theZang region (Xizang is the local name of Tibet in the Himalayas, xi = west,Zang = a Himalayan ethnic group) of Kangding in the Garze Autonomous Regionwhere I saw how the Chinese government bolsters the self-image of its minoritygroups, imbuing pride to those who appropriate the "affirmative"action of the central government's policy on minorities. I visited Liuliude Park where the nativeKangding Love Song (liuliude) was thetheme but like many affirmative actions in other places, responsibility is onthose who take advantage of opportunities offered rather than on those who waitto be spoon-fed by guardians and powers-that-be. Barack Hussein Obama broke through a glass ceiling. I hope he can stay away from the trigger-happynut cases that proliferate America's armed handgun closets (numbers for the topthree: of every 100 folks, there are 86 handguns in the US, 55 in Yemen, and 46in Switzerland). I started this reflection on Canada's celebration of itsmosaic character, one I dearly appreciated when I lived in Saskatchewan whereone daughter acquired a Canadian passport (later exchanged for a US blue simplyon the dictate of travel convenience), and another daughter born in Alberta whoappropriates her mongrel lineage among the alohawaves of Polynesia. I was in Calgary on CanadaDay 2014, when it went into its annual introspection: "What doesCanada mean to me?" It is aquestion that every political entity can ask of its adherents. It is the question that stands in between thepersonal "Who am I? or Who do I say I am?", to the all-encompassingquestion of the earthrise, "Where is home?", where belonging to one planet is anilluminating reality that now receives widespread allegiance. Asking all three leaves the middle, usually thedomain of jingoistic responses, an intentional communal life between theexperience of one's uniqueness, and the demand of nothing less than be human onearth. I, too, am proud to be a mosaic. Thank you, Canucks. j'aime la vie pinoypanda2031(a)aol.com yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!

1 0

Fwd: ST August 21 from Jaime
by via OE 18 Aug '14

18 Aug '14

Salmon Fishing inDong Bei While visiting my second daughter in California last July,she tried to sit me down to watch the movie SalmonFishing in Yemen, a flick starring one of British favorites, EwanMcGregor. We were not successful in theviewing part, but the movie title and story stayed in my mind to checkoutlater. Let me get the reader comfortable with Yemen. In biblical Solomon's Queen of Sheba (Sabeans),Eritrea, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Somalia, Yemen folks are in the ball field. Look at the map and the southern tip of theArabian Peninsula at the juncture of the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden (thatspills into the Arabian Gulf) across the Horn of Africa, Yemen is on the right(east), while Sabean Africa is on the left (west). Aden was the British Admiralty's old coal portcity, and Yemen's capital Sana'a is north close to Saudi Arabia's border. Imagine Somalia pirates though do not equate the picturewith Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom of the Pirates of the Caribbean. The movie's plot of salmon fishing in Yemen isjust as preposterous as the Black Pearl callingon Port Royal, though the pirates is not inappropriate as Yemen is riddled withmany rebel groups. A tad tactile "feel"of the place, Yemen is bisected by 15 degrees latitude, which puts it in thesame latitude as Saipan, Guam, and Luzon of the Philippines. The image of rebels is helpful. In the movie, they oppose Mohammad thedreamer, a Yemeni who did well in England, build a dam to irrigate downstreamdessert fields and fill it with Salmon to encourage fly-fishing in Yemen. The rebels smell foreign influence in thesport, so they bomb the dam that is an intrusion into tradition with anassassination attempt on the Sheik. Our allusion to similarities of temperature with ourfamiliar tropic isles is deceptive as Yemen's aridity is many times over, evenwith its western highlands. Our Yemenisalmon proponent, in damming a river, is actually retaining the humidity uplandas streams from the highlands evaporate before making it to shore. The humidity on the highlands adequatelysupplies water to streams and rivers but retaining it before it hitssubterranean aquifers is the terrain's challenge. Those unfamiliar with salmon, it is a cold water fish prevalentin the temperate zone, the salmo salar in the Atlantic, the Pacific salmon thatincludes the chinook and the coho. Fishermenare familiar with the other salmonids like the trout and the char. Google the subject if interested. Those acquainted with the Cagayan River of northern Luzonknows of the specie called Ludong thatused to be common in the river of my youth but has been overfished through theyears, also succumbing to the chemical effluents of the Green Revolution thatdecimated native species of marine life. Anyway, the endangered specie Ludongspawns on fresh water where it was born before swimming to the ocean's seawater,and returns upriver to die in the fresh water, akin to the salmon. OK, so we got Yemen and the salmon pat; as to the movie, wewill skip the country-rebel relationship in Yemen's politics, and the UK's PR shenanigansin the Middle East, or the characters' romance that ends in a happy ending. The movie is about injecting something new intowhat is ordinary and natural by transforming the environment. The salmon is unnatural to the Yemen terrainbut the building of the dam allows for a cold fresh body of water that couldpossibly sustain a life from elsewhere into a new environment. The Sheik plays the visionary entrepreneur, a biologistreluctantly joins the project since it defies reason, an opportunistic UKofficial sees in the project a political opening, and a heart-broken assistantwhose beau went missing in a war zone, all suspend the limited wisdom ofscience to allow hope to inject itself into the process, both in the salmon enterpriseas well as in their individual lives. Thesurprise comes in the salmon's ability to defy expectations and move upstream afterrebels bombed the dam hoping the salmons flow downstream to die. The salmons decided to swim their owndestiny! Dong Bei salmon fishing is no problem since the PrimorskyKrai of far eastern Russia (Maritime Province where Vladivostok is located) hassalmon from the Sea of Japan wade upstream the Amur River bordering Russia andChina's Manchuria. The real salmonfishing is about an old life from another dreaming a new life by altering environment. In our case, it is this lao ye ye (old man) who is doing just that! I watch from my solarium the neighborhood street sweeper whokeeps our one-block commons tidy and relatively clean the place just becauseone day, this dude brought out a trash picker and started picking up the trashon the street. Didn't do anythingstrenuous but he saw a salmon swimming upstream, and decided to follow. I noticed a grandma doing the same on theother end of the commons. The salmon in the movie survived. In DongBei, I will, too. How are thesalmons in Saipan doing? j'aime la vie pinoypanda2031(a)aol.com yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!

1 0

Fwd: August 20 for ST from Jaime
by via OE 18 Aug '14

18 Aug '14

Sent you 18 and 19, too. Since I will only be doing the daily column till the end of the month, you are going to get Monday to Friday until the 29th. The usual caveat: curious, you are welcome; not, meet you at the bend! Quakes and fire,drought and water When mapping the consequences of quakes and droughts, floodsand fires, the human cost has become a must. When we promote the perspective of viewing everyone as individualsrather than just a numerical entry in a group, the value of an individualbecomes paramount. This runs counter tothe virtue long held in social groups that one's life laid down for a race oran ethnic bunch is more heroic than just the mere expenditure of the same sometimeson behalf of another. I happen to think that an individual is not filled fullsave in the company of and in collaboration with peers but that is a choicerather than the moral imperative of an ethical ought-ness. Likewise, in mapping out the human cost,whether it is the personnel-inflicted conflagrations in Gaza, Iraq, andUkraine, it is helpful to imagine not an abstract number but snuffed lives or livingcasualties often pictured short of limbs. They have a face, and definitely, a name. Increasingly, in covering disasters on TV, the human factoris often covered if only because a broadcast watcher can readily identify witha person rather than an abstract number. Admittedly, we get irritated when the newscaster injects through thetone of his/her voice what ze feels as an emotional response to an event ratherthan the content of the news through pictures and sounds that establish emotivecontent itself. But that's whatdistinguishes professional broadcast journalism from its dime-a-dozen cousinsthat relies on tugging at our sentiments. Quakes that drew fire visited Yunnan Province last weekwhere a shudder that otherwise would only get a shrug of the shoulder managedto dislodge rocks and caused landslide of uncharacteristic proportions that thearea in Ladian is still reeling from the rocks that was not confined to thecradle. We do not mean to make light ofthe disaster. Chinese workers are stilltrying to create water drainage for a river that has since become a lake, threateningresidents downriver should the water level rise some more as rain has yet toabate from the headwaters. The landslides were bad enough. The flooding added to the destruction ofcrops, penned animals, and homes. Neighboring province to Yunnan, Guizhou of the Yi minority tribes thatmight be cousins to our Philippine mountain folks got the brunt of theunceasing rain and caused flooding where ladies used to walk down the laneswith parasols. Guangxi where Guillinwith her famous kartz and Lijiang that rafts down to tourist town Yangzhounestled in lighted hills at night (quite a spectacle), and Hainan with hertropical shores had not been spared the fierce treatment of typhoons. Drought hit the foothills of California and Colorado, aswell as Canada's Northwest territories that lit up fires for our satellites topicture. We all heard of that explosionout of Kunshan in Jiangxi (that's west of Shanghai for thegeography-challenged) from a factory manufacturing aluminum wheel caps forGeneral Motors. From the northeast to the northwest, all we got were drywinds this season. Qui Tian (autumn) kicked in August 11 and though dusk to dawn mightfeel a little cooler, the days are still summer warm. The aridity has been exceptional this year,making the sigua (watermelon) anabundant and desired commodity in every street corner, from Urmuqi of Xinjiangto Dandong of Liaoning. It has the addedattraction of being an aphrodisiac! We had a 30-minute drench in Shenyang the other day, withthe full compliment of accompanying thunder and lightning playing loud orchestralpercussion, plus a downpour that lashed and peppered car roofs. One can tell the plastic touch is in thedrainage as something clogged up the system again; one of the streets at myback in a fairly elevated area of the city was flooded from the accumulatedrain. The environmental disasters that have been visited uponChina since it became the manufacturing factory of the world are considerable. The cheapening of American consumer goods hasalso occurred as the timeframe for programmed obsolescence got shorter, andprice became the gauge for commodities rather than quality. Only the one percent of the US populationshop from quality shops; the rest of us go for the bargain, the discount, andthe sale. We pointed recently on the reality of trash and how China isno longer Los Angeles and Brooklyn's trash bins. Worldwide, we have polluted our planet, sothere is no point belaboring the point, nor pointing fingers on who is to blame. No one has pristine hands! What China, however, is doing in its China Dream that hasbecome the organizing principle of its internal and external affairs (can'thelp point to Obama's foreign policy description of "Don't do stupidstuff" as inadequate, according to Madame Hillary), is to shift fromproducing products "Made in China" to ones that it designs so it canbe labeled as "Created in China". The rhetoric is ahead of the reality but Zhongguohas the time! j'aime la vie pinoypanda2031(a)aol.com yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!

1 0

Tuesday August 19 for ST from Jaime
by via OE 18 Aug '14

18 Aug '14

The parasites ofAugust I got bit August summer of '68 in Litchfield, Maine. In my early twenties, I had four weeks to engagethe Church youth in summer camps attended by teenyboppers from up and down Maineto Connecticut. It was a pleasant summersave the buzzing mosquitoes. I grew up in the Cagayan Valley where the anopheles carriedmalaria around. I never got the shakes,staying faithful within the canopy of the standard mosquito net canopy. In Nigeria, I guarded the intake of trainingparticipants by Lagoon Lagos but I was lax with my prophylactics. The plasmodiumgot me climbing the walls. The local Maine story was that the government sprayed DDT toeradicate the pesky pests until the authorities realized that not only was thecompound detrimental to humans, it also evolved mosquitoes into bigger andstronger breeds. It was not until the late 70s when I heard a similar story butwith a more prominent role given the mosquitoes. For their size, they were labeled as theprovincial birds of Manitoba, no longer just swatted but systematicallyeradicated with chemicals! The resultwas predictable. After a weekend in July last month in the pleasantsurroundings of Alberta's Banff and Lake Louise, by magnificent Lake Moraine,and the bouncy rapids of the Bow River flowing from Jaspers where the headstreams of the Saskatchewan river began at the Athabasca glaciers of theCanadian Rockies, my lungs had its fill of clean air and fresh winds comparedto the haze of Calgary that was in the middle of its annual dust-filled Stampede. The iced mineral water was tastier than the coldbottled one that dispensed for a dollar in the Plains. It was not yet August on the tail end of the chuckwagonraces and the rodeo-riding cowboys when one slender long-legged bloodsuckingfemale capable of passing on the dreaded Egyptian encephalitis alighted on my brazzo. I quickly gave it the swat. It is its cousins that buzz around the plains of Manchuriawhere Shenyang is nestled by the Liaohe,the river that gives the province its name. Given the swampy areas along the Bohai shores, there are many stagnantwaters where the aquatic larvae of the mosquito thrive and multiply. Males among DCHS'59ers (Davao City High School) in the Banfftour related jokes during the bus ride. I added my mosquito cowboy shoot-out story settingit on an old West Texas bar transported to a lower Alberta ranch town. It went: A mosquito buzzed by while three cowboys nursed their spiritedquaffs in a Calgary bar. So the wide-brim-hattedgringo drew his six-shooter and a buzzer was a dot on the wall. With no shortage of pride, the cowboy blewthe smoke off his gun nozzle. Another buzzer came by and the Canadien ranch hand took his aim,clipped the mosquito's wings, making the buzzer zigzag dizzily down to its ignominy. The bartender shrugged his shoulders. No word was exchanged. Then another mosquito ventured into the bar space, and a Chinoypulled his trigger. The fly kept onflying. Usually short of words, the gringoand the Canadien gave the Chinoy a surly look. They said, "Youmissed." The Chinoy replied: "Mayhap, but he ain't havin' no more babiesno more!" Buzzers were not funny in Oleai and CK as they flew into Saipan'sBeach Road when favorably nurtured by the rain and the sun. The mosquitoes were my antagonists foroccupancy in the old San Jose Motel before the place was consigned to disrepair. Non-humans in this planet, particularlycreatures nice and small, are faring well. Even the Ebolavirus is winning in Guinea, Sierra Leone, Liberia and West Africa! Already, the infection has become pandemicwith the world on red alert over the local health structures inability to dealwith the epidemic. A call for assistancefrom partner countries had been issued. Experimentalmedication was just approved for use to indicate the severity and desperationof the situation. Nigeria just added tothe death count. Meanwhile, humanoids around the world grow bigger brains and larger butts, multi-layered bellies andpaunchier girths, spending lives at the altar of consumer goods longing forcomfort but ever anxious over health and personal security. This reflection is about "me and mosquitoes", notabout English (the proper form is "mosquitoes and I" but "me andmosquitoes" sounds better). It isabout sharing the same space without elbowing each other out of existence. Change the phrase in quote to "Palestinianand Jew, Chinese and Japanese, Iraqi and Irani, Kiev Ukrainian and Donets'k Ukrainian,SoKor and NoKor, etc.", and you get my drift. My neighbor's yard smells of all kinds of sprays in themorning as he controls the pests in his home garden. His sunflowers bloom well. Meanwhile, the incidence of youth's neuraldisorders in my neighborhood has multiplied. Chemotherapy before the canceris just as lethal and deadly. Stay away from the spray. The mosquito and Ebola are here to stay. So will I, BTW, with the parasites and viruses of August. j'aime la vie pinoypanda2031(a)aol.com yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!

1 0

Fwd: GMCA Aug 11-12
by David Zahrt via OE 17 Aug '14

17 Aug '14

*MON AUG 11** Valley Junction to Des Moines (DSM), IA* Since Ed is from Des Moines I figured he would be able to recommend a good route to Des Moines. He said that there was a bike trail to Des Moines within a ½ mile of our campsite. I rode ½ mile on the gravel and found the bike trail, which was next to the railroad. There was lots of shade, gradual inclines, and no traffic. When I reached Park Ave. in DSM, I stopped for some cocoa and phoned Margaret Weiner who had invited me to stay with her and Jerry. Since the schedule was tentative I said I would contact her later in the day. After a 20 mile ride I came off the bike trail at Locust and 18th St. My destination was the Ritual Café at Locust & W 13th St. I rode east to 13th St.. There were no Marchers and no support vehicles. So I rode down to 5th St, went up to 4th floor and said “Hello” to all the staff at Iowa Natural Heritage Foundation (INHF) that were in the office—Diane, Lisa, Anita, Sherry, and more—can’t remember all the names. I wanted to give them a hug but I was wet with perspiration. We symbolized hugs and I gave them my personal background on the March. Then I went back to the Ritual Café. Sierra Club friends, Barb and Jim Redmond, were on their way back from a family gathering in Wisconsin and had planned a rendezvous with me in Des Moines. They had lunch in the café and we shared recent developments. I needed to get my bike up to the parking lot near the Capitol where the trucks were going to park during our stay day in Des Moines. Jim volunteered to take my bike in their van. We went up and dropped the bike off at the Iowa Community College office and came back to the cafe. Then Jim and Barb left so they could get an errand done for their son on the way home to Sioux City. As the Marchers arrived I got information on the afternoon and evening schedule. I phoned Margaret Weiner so she could participate in our activities and/or know when and where to pick me up. The Climate Justice Gypsy Band began playing at 4:00 pm. Simultaneously there was an ice cream social on the sidewalk right outside the door of the café. After the Social people gathered to March to the Capitol. We had police escort. The crowd filled both lanes of an entire block. We marched a mile and ½ to the park on the west side of the Capitol steps. On the way over I talked with many people—including the Democratic candidate for governor, and a member of Iowa Citizens for Community Improvement. I found out that Cary is still working for ICCI and asked him to say “Hello” to her for me. Sarah Spain was the MC at the Rally. The band played some introductory numbers. There was no electric outlet so I didn’t play the bass. There were numerous speakers and all addressed the issue of climate change—the Mayor of Des Moines, State Rep Robb Hogg, and many more. The number of people gathered for the Rally was encouraging—200-300. The presentations ended at 8 pm and Izzy got the Marchers up to sing the Sunset song to end the Rally. As I was taking my bass and amp back to JJ’s truck, Margaret Weiner approached me and introduced herself. She reminded me that she was a retired Episcopal priest, that she and Jerry, who’s Jewish were newly married and requested dinner at our B&B. Even though we haven’t had practice serving dinners, I said “Yes” and they were our guests. When we got my gear in the car she headed home to Urbandale. Since all I had for dinner was ice cream we stopped at a Subway on the way home. *TUE AUG 12*—*a Stay Day in Des Moines* By the time I got up Margaret was walking to her physical therapy appointment. She had granola, yogurt, and green tea out for breakfast! After breakfast Jerry took me to the dentist who did some repair on one of my molars. He also took me to the bike shop so I could get a replacement for the taillight I lost on the way back to the cafe from INHF on Monday. Jerry was tentative about it but finally decided to cook lunch. We had a late lunch and an afternoon nap. All 3 of us attended the potluck at the Unitarian Church. It was another chance to meet local people concerned about climate change. David, a periodic Marcher, showed an hour and ½ DVD of his sailing in and around the Arctic. It was personal, concrete evidence that the Arctic is disappearing. We came home and went to bed. Tomorrow morning we would have to eat breakfast and get to the Capitol by 7am. -- Peace, David

1 0

Fwd: GMCA 8/09
by David Zahrt via OE 17 Aug '14

17 Aug '14

*SAT AUG 09** Dexter to Winterset, IA* In Nov 2013 I gave the Iowa Coordinator Nancy Trask’s contact info. Nancy became the coordinator for the March in Winterset. She orchestrated a potluck at the Library where we had a discussion about the challenges of Climate Change with the local residents that attended. There was a Native American in attendance. He gave us a parable: The Creator had a gift that s/he wanted to give Creation to be protected. The Eagle said, I’ll take it and fly to the moon with it. The Creator said, That won’t do. The gopher said, I’ll take it and go down to the center of the earth. The Creator said, That won’t do. The whale said, I’ll take it to the bottom of the ocean. The Creator said, That won’t do. The mouse said, I’ll take it and swallow it and keep it in my stomach. The Creator gave it to the mouse! I stayed with Nancy. I had a shower, laundry done, slept in a bed, and caught up with Nancy’s latest happenings. I learned that her daughter, Ashley, had graduated from university with a degree in German, and drifted from one unsatisfactory job to another. I told her about my stay with Joan Wallace and her use of the Internet to establish her own business in translation. Not only does she have her own business, she creates her own schedule. I need to put Nancy in touch with Joan so Joan can help Ashley create her own business as Joan has done. *SUN AUG 10* *Winterset to Valley Junction, IA * Our destination today was to the farm where Sarah Spain, our coordinator, grew up. Bob Cook, a retired Presbyterian minister who has been on the March when his health allows, requested that the Climate Justice Gypsy Band play at his Johnston, IA church on Sunday morning. So we ferried the band members and instruments from Sarah’s farm to Johnston. We played a prelude. Then we played *Amazing Grace* after communion. And we played *May the Circle Be Unbroken* as the postlude. I went out in the congregation after the service to meet and greet people. Someone came up behind me and asked, “Are you David?” I turned to see who had asked the question. It was Cathy Engstrom. She and I had worked together at INHF for 7 years! We exchanged hugs. We all went to coffee hour. Back at the farm, Sarah had set up a potluck dinner in the hayshed. I think the guests were neighbors. An 83-year-old woman joined the March that evening. She removed my ability to brag that I was the oldest person on the March. Izzy made sure that we sang the Sunset Song before bedtime.- Peace, David

1 0

Fwd: GMCA Aug 7-8
by David Zahrt via OE 15 Aug '14

15 Aug '14

*THU AUG 07*—*Bridgewater to Greenfield, IA* It was foggy and misty. As soon as the circle-up was done I left for Greenfield. I think I rode the road on RAGBRAI one year (2009?). I remember I stayed at The Brass Lantern B&B that ride and that Marty & Terry Moore were the innkeepers. When I stopped at Casey’s for cocoa I phoned them. Marty answered the phone and we re-established acquaintance. I indicated I wanted to stop and see them. I came through town and stopped at the Presbyterian Church where we were camping that night. Then I went through town another 1 ½ miles to The Brass Lantern. The mist had turned into a steady light rain. I almost turned around but I decided I wanted to make the contact. We had an extended conversation that both reminisced and anticipated the future. Marty is the Chair of the IBBA. She has ceased publishing a statewide flyer and has gone to using the Internet. I rode back to the Presbyterian Church. They allowed us to use the basement auditorium/kitchen. There were several meetings held. One was focused on future events—Des Moines and Chicago. Gavain suggested that we blockade the L-train in downtown Chicago to bring attention to the ‘big business’ in downtown Chicago. I think that is not the way to go because it could appear that we are against public transportation. The dinner was informal so Izzy, Luke, Gavain (on the Cello), and I practiced a song that Izzy’s daughter has written to tell Obama to stop the KXL. *FRI AUG 08*—*Greenfield to Dexter (along the Hwy), IA* Liz gave me directions to the next campsite that concluded with 4.5 miles of gravel in hills. The hills were so strenuous I probably walked a mile while getting to the destination. I got there and waited, journaled, and ate lunch. None of the trucks arrived so I attempted to call Liz. My phone wouldn’t work. I went to several houses to see if I could use as landline phone. I was surprised to find that the countryside was so uninhabited. At the third house I found someone home. They recognized me because they had been at the Presbyterian Church in Greenfield the previous evening. I phoned Liz, who told me that the campsite had been changed! The couple knew where the campsite would be. The husband suggested that we put my bike in his pickup and he'd drive me to the campsite. I willingly accepted his offer. It didn’t take long to get to the campsite. I was extremely grateful and thanked him for the ride. Those who chose to had dinner in discussion groups. I chose the group that read and discussed *World Peace Diet: Eating for Spiritual Health and Social Harmony* by Will Tuttle, PhD. The statistics about how many resources agriculture consumes and throws away to make animal products for human consumption was astounding to me. It made me re-think the prospect of becoming a vegetarian. It was dark after dinner so we all went to bed. -- Peace, David

1 0