The road ends, but the journey continues...

Category: Social Commentary (Page 1 of 9)

A ‘White Album’: Pete Townshend – Who Came First

Here’s a little something that’s totally unrelated to the holidays or all the stuff currently going on in my daily life – a draft post conveniently available for pubbing!


Note: my longstanding and growing personal list of ‘White Albums’ are albums inspired by the literal color-aspect of the Beatles’ White Album. Here’s one for you to enjoy.


October 1972

Okay, it’s December, 2024 – not October 1972. But the earworms I allowed into my brain following the last post are unrelenting. Nicely so. 😊

As I wrote my last post, I uncovered an entire musical soundscape I forgot was birthed in real time. Part of that setlist includes Pete Townshend’s first solo album, Who Came First.

Turns out, Who Came First was released in October of 1972.  

I was introduced to the actual album by my boyfriend at the time. A college Senior to my Freshman innocence, he was more attuned to the happenings of the world. 😊

I had heard a few of the singles on the at-the-time underground FM station KLZ but didn’t know there was a full album forthcoming.

One day while on the hill in Boulder, browsing the music album bins at Albums on the Hill my boyfriend pulled out a white album and exclaimed, “It’s here!”

Yes, even then it struck me as a ‘White Album’ with Pete suspended upon a field of eggs.

Clever.

Not knowing I was living in a world of historic importance – musically and otherwise – this and other albums released that year and beyond were my companions as I walked those first years of young adulthood.

Two of my favorite tracks were and still are Pure and Easy and Let’s See Action.


Pure and Easy

These days I hear the echo of the phrase from the lyrics, ‘there once was a note‘, as literal as well as altruistic.

The path my music has taken is reflective of the literal aspect of inference. I have taken control of my life path in that I am not subject to the public’s perception of success. Instead, I have made my dent and continue to do so in the niches upon which I chose to focus. Touching (he)arts and getting to do what I love most…play, teach, collaborate, create, compose, record, perform – in ensemble as well as solo…

“I listened and I heard music in a word
And words when you played your guitar
The noise that I was hearing was a million people cheering
And a child flew past me riding in a star…

…We all know success when we all find our own dream
And our love is enough to knock down any wall
And the future’s been seen as men try to realize
The simple secret of the note in us all
In us all”

excerpts, Pure and Easy, Pete Townshend

Let’s See Action

As a basic call to action for change within and without – with a carefree attitude – the attraction of the message lies in how it plays out in life.

I’ve been on both sides of this.

  • The not knowing of where I’m going or where it leads.
  • The confidence in knowing ‘I’ll get to where I’m gonna end up’.

Relevant reminders then and now!

“Let’s see action
Let’s see people
Let’s see freedom
Let’s see who cares…

…I don’t know where I’m going
I don’t know what I need
But I’ll get to where I’m gonna end up
And that’s alright by me”


October 18, 1972

Note: Today, Friday, October 18, 2024 is an ‘especially significant day’ as my oldest (by 5 years) girl cousin says. I confess I’m a bit cranky this year as it’s the year I tilt over from the nines into a new decade of numbers…But I’ll get over that, I always do! HA!
In the spirit of celebrating birthdays, I thought I’d recount my ‘especially significant (birth)day’ of Wednesday, October 18, 1972.


The 26th Amendment, Pat Schroeder, Shirley Chisholm, George McGovern, Richard Nixon and me.

On March 23, 1971 the 26th Amendment was proposed – due in large part to the efforts and voices of us, the ‘younger’ generation. Bringing to the forefront the fact that those drafted during the Vietnam War – young men between the ages of 18 & 21 – were required to fight and possibly die for their nation in wartime at the age of 18. Yet, these same citizens had no legal say in the government’s decision to wage war until the age of 21.

McGovern '72 campaign button

Youthful chants of “Old enough to fight, Old enough to vote” were echoed by people of all ages – hawks and doves.

By July 1, 1971, the 26th Amendment was ratified and noted as being the quickest adoption of any amendment to date.

October 18, 1972, I turned 18. As a freshman at the University of Colorado, the energy surrounding that year’s Presidential election increased my sense of ‘making a difference’ by exercising the most basic right in a Democracy – simply by casting my vote.

 Oh, but would I actually get to vote?

You bettcha! My birthday was within a few short weeks of the birth-date cutoff and voter registration deadline. As a newly turned 18 year old, I registered the day after my birthday as an Independent.

Back then it simply meant “not Democratic, not Republican”. These days, it’s come to mean something much more complicated.

However. I still stand by my decision as a registered Independent voter as being 100% unaffiliated with any political party. Every single Presidential Election except the 2012 one, due to circumstances beyond my control, I cast my vote – for or against or instead of (third party options) – someone – for President.

But that’s not what this post is about…Instead, let’s review the election selection during that first inaugural year of voting for 18 year olds.

1972’s ballot was rich with change and choice as is wont in a Democracy. Besides the highly charged George McGovern and Richard M. Nixon campaigns, two unknowns were gaining national recognition while running for their own chosen political offices.

Two dynamic & highly qualified women peppered the campaign trail. Shirley Chisholm in the Presidential race and Pat Schroeder in the US Congressional race from the 1st congressional district which spanned the Denver Metro area.

Being a resident of Boulder County, anything to do with Denver wasn’t really on my radar. As a newbie voter at the time, I didn’t fully understand how local and national candidates represented all or parts of my state of Colorado. As it happens, Pat Schroeder would be a presence to reckon with time and again on the local and national political scene.

I now realize what a landmark impact she made on the political landscape even if we youngster-voters would joke about “Pat and her uterus”. 🙂

A fine encapsulation of Schroeder’s career – including her famous “I have a brain, I have a uterus. They both work…”

As for Shirley Chisholm – what a powerhouse!

Yes, if she had been on the ballot, I would have cast my first ever vote for her. 🙂

In addition to offering historical info, this video captures the feel of the times when Chisholm ran for office.


Extra notes on Schroeder & Chisholm

Schroeder, at her husband’s encouragement, entered the 1972 race for the predominantly Democratic but conservative congressional district encompassing most of Colorado’s capital city of Denver. Running without the support of the state Democratic Party or the Democratic National Committee, Schroeder campaigned as an anti–Vietnam War candidate. When asked to explain the motivation behind her unlikely congressional bid, Schroeder replied, “Among other things the need for honesty in government.” She added, “It’s an issue that women can speak best to—and more should be given the chance.”4 Schroeder ran a grass–roots campaign that seemed as overmatched as those of her political idol, Adlai Stevenson; she believed she would “talk sense to the American people and lose.”5 Voters, however, embraced her antiwar, women’s rights message. She beat out her Democratic primary opponent Clarence Decker by 4,000 votes and, in the general election, defeated first–term incumbent Republican Mike McKevitt with 52 percent of the vote. Schroeder was the first woman elected to Congress from Colorado, a state that had granted women the vote in 1893.6 In her subsequent 11 elections, she rarely faced serious opposition, typically garnering more than 60 percent of the vote.7
(Click here for entire article)

5John Brinkley, “A Brave Woman Leaves Her Mark; Pat Schroeder Exits Congress,” 31 December 1996, Cleveland Plain–Dealer: 1E.
6Marcy Kaptur, Women in Congress: A Twentieth–Century Odyssey (Washington, D.C.: Congressional Quarterly Press, 1996): 174; see also, Current Biography, 1978: 368.
7“Election Statistics, 1920 to Present,” http://clerk.house.gov/member_info/election.aspx; Politics in America, 1996 (Washington, D.C.: Congressional Quarterly Press, 1995): 221.

In announcing her bid for the Democratic nomination in 1972, Chisholm said, “I am not the candidate of Black America, although I am Black and proud. I am not the candidate of the women’s movement of this country, although I am a woman and I am equally proud of that. I am the candidate of the people, and my presence before you now symbolizes a new era in American political history.”

Although she ran a spirited campaign, Chisholm was unable to consolidate the support of influential Black leaders, giving way for South Dakota Senator George McGovern to claim the Democratic nomination.
(Click here for entire article)

Chisholm arrived at the Democratic convention with 152 delegates. This was more than those of senator Hubert Humphrey and Edward Muskie, who’d been two of the main challengers on the campaign trail (Humphrey was the Democratic candidate in 1968). Yet she was still in fourth place behind Senator George McGovern, Senator Henry Jackson, and the injured Wallace. McGovern was the clear winner with 1,729 delegates, and his lead gave him no incentive to negotiate with Chisholm for her 152.
(Click here for entire article)


Beauty Inherent in Humanity

The news broadcasts cover the dark side of humanity, the nasty, ugly, tough, brutal behaviors of some and I need to know that this is going on. But I also seek antidotes to this dark side, I look for the beauty inherent in nature. As I look at my photographs of this sculpture*, I am reminded of the beauty of most of the people I know, but also know that this beauty is delicate. I (we) need to nurture this beauty in others so it can flourish.”

*Utopia by Jaume Plensa (installed at the Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park, Grand Rapids, MI)

Pat, blogger & photographer

“We need to nurture this beauty in others so it can flourish.”

MMXXiii – part one

Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.

Proverbs 4:23

It’s been quite the year, hasn’t it?

Played against the backdrop loop of escalating violence, senseless shootings, climate catastrophes, wars, heartbreaking stories of real people – multitudes – changed forever due to man’s inhumanity towards man. It’s difficult to not get overwhelmed.

And yet.

I am:

Learning to accept
That all hungers cannot be fed,
That saving the world
May be a matter
Of sowing a seed
Not overturning a tyrant,
That we do what we can.

The moment of vision,
The seizure still makes
Its relentless demands:

Work, love, be silent.
Speak.

The house of gathering (poem excerpt) – May Sarton circa 1988

I’ve been quiet of late. Not by choice. I’ve sat numerous times at the keyboard or with pen in hand struggling to put into words all that is streaming within my mind and heart to no avail.

But now as 2023 nears completion, I find it easier to recount certain of those events and revelations which occurred during the past year rather than as they were occurring!

Part of my year’s journey included the above ‘revelation’ which clearly set me up for greater freedom in living my ‘everyday life’.

That said, I hope to compile a ‘part two’ followup post which will highlight some of those ‘events & revelations’…but then, maybe not! 🙂

XLV

1978-2023 (and counting!)

June 17th.
Our 45th wedding anniversary.

Over the course of a long love story, what was once a single ‘our song’ becomes a whole playlist of songs. Marking myriad events in the ups, downs; ebbs, flows; crushing sorrows, magnificent joys; everyday living out of our love & life in this world hand-in-hand and in His Hands.

Here then, is one such song released in August, 1983 and added at that same time to our playlist during a particularly defining event that occurred early on in our life path together.


The year was 1983.

We were renting the bottom unit in a quadplex in the heart of the Silicon Valley – San Jose, CA. Hubby pursuing the dream of working for the hottest tech company of the time, Hewlett Packard.

Me? Living life in the Bay area as a new stay-at-home-college-educated Mom of a one-year-old and precariously on track with our fourth pregnancy.

A seemingly viable one after a rocky reproductive history of 2 previous miscarriages: one around 15 weeks (twins) and later, an early ectopic pregnancy that spontaneously resolved itself. Nestled between those, our much wanted beloved daughter, Hava was born!

Over the course of this latest pregnancy at 5 months gestation, the increasingly troublesome eye blind-spot symptoms I was experiencing could no longer be ignored. At the end of my eye exam, the optometrist explained that he ‘could not be responsible for me’ and felt he couldn’t tell me his suspicions on the cause of my blind spots. (Yes, he was an odd duck) Instead, he promptly picked up the phone and scheduled an appointment for me with a neurologist colleague ASAP.

Thus began the whirlwind of expedient & lengthy testing.

Of course, the neurologist explained further concerns at the next day’s appointment. It appears my symptoms suggested two possible diagnoses:

1. Pituitary Gland Brain Tumor

or

2. Early stage MS

Neither a good choice or something to hope for. But we prayed for the best along with a miraculous intervention.

Apparently, Pituitary Gland Brain Tumors grow exponentially & rapidly if the patient is pregnant – hence the haste with which these medical professionals carried out their testing and treatment plans.

I underwent numerous tests that lasted hours over a two day period prior to an impending operation date within 10-14 days. It was assumed I had the tumor and several tests substantiated those assumptions.

Between sessions, I talked with my OB-GYN to make sure that the scheduled CAT scans (MRIs weren’t readily available at that time) wouldn’t hurt the new life growing inside me.

They wouldn’t.

Further, the doctor spent time patiently answering my flood of ‘what if’ and ‘what about’ questions – mostly focused on how to protect my unborn child from harm during possible brain surgery.

And you know what? My OB-GYN made a point of letting me know that prenatal care is as much for the care of the mother (me) as for the baby! He was there for me, too. Every step of the way.

A few days before the looming ‘possible’ brain surgery was to be performed, the latest CAT scans baffled the medical staff. The original tumor dot cluster seemingly disappeared!

But we knew it was our ‘miraculous intervention!’

Even the neurologist said it was unexplainable (often their way of acknowledging a miracle of sorts).

So they cancelled the immediate mandate to operate post haste.

That left us with diagnosis #2 … which at the time was only confirmed via a spinal tap. I asked if we could postpone that until after the baby was born and/or indefinitely and was told, “Yes”.

Relief. We’d deal with it later, if at all.

Now we could celebrate and enjoy getting ready for our new arrival.

Aside from periodic monitoring with a world renown Neuro-ophthalmologist* at Stanford, I ultimately ended up with a clean slate.

Sadly, I miscarried again**, this time at 6 months gestation.

But the Lord has been my (our) stronghold,
And my (our) God the rock of my (our) refuge.

Psalm 94:22 NASB

*there’s an hilarious story that goes with our visit with this doctor, but isn’t quite in line with the focus of this post – perhaps another time it will be told!

**for completion’s sake, we went through 4 more pregnancies, resulting in 2 more live births (middle daughter and youngest son) but losing 2 more babies at 12 weeks gestation each. In total, 9 babies, with 3 live births. All wanted. All beloved.

Weekend Notes 2.11/12.23

As per my last post, I figure it’s time to make an appearance on my own blog. 

As per my personality, I find it hard to just dive back in and post something after having not posted for a good long time.

As per the trajectory of my growth as an individual, here goes!


In the Arts Community, there is this ongoing debate as to whether or not a qualifier adjective is required before the term artist/musician/author/fill-in-the-blank. This overlaps into many adjectives – ethnic, gender, religious, political, educational status, age and other identities. Somehow the adjectives male or white are rarely if ever used.

Implications on this are loudly obvious. As in: the assumed standard is indeed male & white.

However, that is not the point nor within the scope of this set of Weekend Notes. Except in the context of should those qualifiers be used or would it be construed as offensive?

Worth pondering.

(If you want to comment on this germ of a prompt then have at it!)

More to the point of this post, currently a large proportion of the (he)artists on my online ‘playlist’ of cultural personas are also black women.

It’s Also February.

In honor of Black History Month, I’d like to draw your attention to one such (he)artist.

Aminah Brenda Lynn Robinson

1940-2015

“I began drawing at the age of three. My father would give me wood to paint on and paint in little enamel tins. My studio was under my bed…I never had any doubt in my mind about being an artist.”

Aminah Robinson

Aminah created an immensely diverse body of work ranging from fiber art, scrolls, textile & accordion books, paintings & drawings in various mediums, sculpture, tapestries and huge pieces of quilted mixed media which she was constantly adding to called, Button Beaded Music Box RagGonNon Pop-up Books or “RagGonNons” for short.

Her art was grounded in her belief in the African concept of Sankofa, learning from the past in order to move forward.

Interesting inspirational factiod: she worked on her art from 4:30 in the morning through 12 midnight each day whenever she was in her studio home.

Phenomenal!

for further reading: source 1, source 2 and just google her name for a plethora of articles, images, videos.

Listen for the music connection in her works of art
Watch her stitch buttons onto her huge pieces of fiber art (around 1:11)
A more in depth overview of the scope of Aminah’s life’s work

May 24th, 2022

…I have been silent here on my website blog…fielding the events of our society’s everyday harsh realities while trying to sort through the maze of staying current without sinking too deep into the pit of despair*...knowing that so many are suffering, hurting…again…

Just 2 days after my last post – Remembering the Children (of the 2017 Manchester Arena bombing in the UK)– there was yet another mass shooting here in the USA focused on children. In school. Defenseless, easy targets here in the land of the free, home of the brave.

I thought about re-posting the photo-quote I’d made, but really – recycled sentiments? For such tender times?

Instead, here is my mini-commentary. While my feelings and thoughts run deep, they aren’t put out there for ‘show’ or ‘grandstanding’. I’m more of a one-on-one communicator when it comes to deeper complex issues. However, I realized I could not move forward without saying something here.

Following the ‘logic’ offered in defense of easy access to firearms/weapons of all sorts as ‘doing things literally as the founding fathers intended’ I posit: where in the world does it say in the second amendment that Assault Weapons/Weapons of War are the ‘arms’ meant for an American’s right to bear?

Possession of an AR-15 is a far cry from Daniel Boone’s hunting for squirrels or raccoons with his trusty shotgun.

Where has the intent to protect ourselves from threatening outsiders become a right to attack, traumatize and kill school children busy learning, socializing, working and playing within their classrooms?

What right does any American have to take away a child’s childhood and future?

Mass shooting attacks outside the context of war or third world regimes are considered uniquely American.

Part of our national character.

A far cry from the founding fathers’ intent, indeed.

* reference: from a scene in The Princess Bride, a lighthearted movie beloved across all generations.

Peace Post: A Poem Shared

– A coincidental gift received during National Poetry Month –
As natural as breathing, sharing works of (he)art is part of my everyday.

A few days after my last post was pubbed, a longtime friend noticed the ‘tree painting’ on the shelf beside Gracie. This prompted her to share a reading by Amanda Palmer of the following poem by Mary Oliver. She’s been listening to every day.

I get it. Poetry is a life line.

WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES
by Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”

Devotions: The Selected Poetry of Mary Oliver

If preferred: click here for direct link to Amanda’s reading on Soundcloud

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