Fairie, Fairie, come to our flower

200506212139 “Fairie, Fairie, come to our flower now at the midnight hour,” chanted the children in the yard on the other side of the lilacs. This is the Summer Solstice, and that sounds more of Midsummernight’s Eve, but hey, what other children are chanting about fairies? The children betray their Waldorf upbringing.


Watching the weather radar today, not wanting to get caught off-guard as yesterday. This afternoon, however, there was only a slow moving mass out over South Dakota that was already disipating when I left work at about 5:00, and now it is gone or is the little bit out over Wisconsin.
Took Stella for a long walk after dinner–to the river and bank. She was panting heavily because of the heat and humidity. There is a drinking fountain ther at the river overlook by St. Thomas at the end of Summit Avenue. While I was trying to figure out how to get water to her from the drinking fountain, this guy that was stopped there with his bicycle gave her some water from his water bottle.
Someone else, another guy, runner, I think, that was also stopping there for a drink, commented on my Keen shoes. I love my Keen shoes. They have worked out very well.
Then, after the drinking fountain, we came across a little dog about her size that was tethered in it’s frontyard. They really went at, were great playing together. The man, the woman, and their son all came out and we dog-chatted. Theirs is a some other little dog-poodle cross. They are exactly the same age. Seemed like very nice people, too. So maybe it is a another Stella playmate.
I watched both the Part 2 Nova program on China (turns out that I had already seen it) and the Frontline about contractors in Iraq. Very real, very graphic, the most real picture that I have seen of Iraq.
That program generated quite a tizzy of media today on the radio. I listen to a bit of it on Democracy Now when I was driving home to take the dog out at lunchtime. And then, on the way back, Talk of the Nation had it’s take. The difference between the two programs was quite stark.
On Democracy Now, there were knowledge people really digging into the situation. The Smith guy who was the correspondent was part of the conversation. Someone brought up the $87 million fuel overcharge of KBR. He corrected them and said it was now more like $108 million. That’s the number that they used in the show. They went rather into depth about the vaguaries of the contracts, how no accountability can be traced. Privatize all.
On Talk of the Nation, there was a Congressman and a rep from a trade group representing the private security forces–hell, let’s just go ahead and call them mercenaries, hmm? These two guys more or less congratulated each other on how well things were going and were sure that the industry was doing a good job of self-regulating itself and hardly needed the whiff of government offer site. Gag. Excuse me, I’ll be right back. Hmm. Better now.
Makes Mad Max seem sedate and antiquated.
Which brings me to a screed. When you think about how hard it is to get people to agree on things, to even make an attempt to do the right thing, you realize how much we have to lose by this constant pressure to pull apart and bring down the fabric of society. The list is so long–Social Security, funding for public broadcasting, Amtrak–just the tip of the iceberg. Things that once gone will never be replaced. It is like there is a segment of society for whom their existence doesn’t matter. They’ll be fine without them, and, via taxcuts, will even be better off, but at the expense of the rest of us. And there is no outcry to stop them. Oh well. We’ll be able to carry concealed weapons, we’ll be able to play Texas Hold’em, but…..
Been thinking two about how important and available public radio is. If I could figure out how to program the damn buttons on the car radio, there’d be a non-commercial station for each one. KBEM jazz, the Current, MPR, KFAI.
On KFAI today there was most damn refreshing music. “Crap from the Past.” 70s and 80s. But odd and good. Pop. “Walk’n of Sunshine.”
Made me realize that the Snooze, the Snot–no, Spoon–that I saw at First Avenue, if anything, is “anti-pop.” They were studiously devoid of pop. Which would be okay, but they were also studiously devoid of life or anything interesting. They made their statement, I guess. A little pop wouldn’t hurt. “catchily skeletal, rhythm-heavy sound reminiscent of post-punk heavyweights” and I mean skeletal, and not all that catchy. Sorry, maybe I caught them on an off-night.