Tag Archives: debate

My Big Toe

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TheWayBack.jpg The Way Back image by poetknowit

It’s time to get my feet wet on this board. By big toe is almost in. I am thrilled to be onboard with publicliterature.org.

My book was just released yesterday and  I am walking on air. Much of my work on Author’s Den gives one an earful of my unique voice. This week, I got a local musician to collaborate with me on a video to promote my book, ALL ROADS LEAD TO HAZARD. That was the most fun I have had in years and an earful of good vibes.  The band is The Chef Dave Band, a mix of jazz and rock.

Life is high and dry in these hills. It is so parched here the grass feels like Astroturf. Whatever hit Virginia only gave us a spit of rain. Not much to do except look forward to the debate tonight. My sister graduated from Ole Miss. You feel Faulkner in the breeze there. We toured his home and the occasion overflowed with photo ops. Someting I ate in Oxford  gave me the worst case of heartburn ever.  Maybe the candidates will not suffer that malady. America needs some souped up Pepto-Bismol to settle us down.

So, I have stuck my toe in these waters. I will return to the river of words soon. Check out my blogs, videos and work at Author’s Den and at http://hazardgal.com Glad to share this time together.

A Thousand Points of Darkness

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What is on the horizon is not pretty. The seemingly imminent financial crash will be dark and dreary.  What we are seeing now, is like a trailer for the movie of this madness. As an artist, I have an insight here. Like everyone else, I offer no good answer, only a parallel. Our brains think this way; needing an association in order to comprehend the unthinkable.

My last watercolor is a mess. That is, it looks terrible if you stand too close. All the colors conflict and the freckles look like leprosy. But when you stand back, you see the charm in the little girl holding her breath.

The world seen up close can be hideous too. The debate last night had that look. In rallies and photo ops, these candidates have an aura. Standing within a few feet of each other, the picture was hard on the eyes. The current that flowed between them was toxic. Sparks seemed to fly out of Sen. McCain’s eyes. It might have been easier if he had spontaneously combusted.

What a proud moment in time, for our nation to have an African-American citizen in a first presidential debate!  I am very proud of him, myself being a daughter of the South. The baggage a Dixie childhood brings with it includes some racial dirty laundry. What matters is that we saw that time pass and we can see the difference the Civil Rights Movement made in our lives.

Up close, the anger that disseminated between these two politicians was just plain ugly. To me, it was a thousand points of darkness. Sen. Obama held up well and smiled despite the poisonous arrows hurled his way. McCain grinned. There is something to be said about the way people smile.

Others can study the body language and the language of hope. It did not fall upon my ears last night. Sen. Obama was put on the offensive early on. I felt like I was watching a boa constrictor swallowing a baby chick. Believe me, I want to stand back so the picture looks better. From here it is as pretty as sludge.

History will paint these times in subtle hues or brassy shades. In the future, when we stand back from this moment hopefully we will see greatness and determination. Maybe we will see leadership. Posturing does not make a good portait alone. Sen. McCain may grab his favorite Sharpie and scribble out the mess in Washington, as he claims. All I can say, is thank God artists and writers can envison and invent things. Thank God I am one of them.

Simple as Sarah

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Truth be told, I am nervous about this interview. In a small town, the weekly paper ties folks together like bailing wire. It has ripple effects too. A harsh editorial or article can run you crazy. There is no rock big enough to hide you. So, with trepidation I await my talk about my book in the morning. All the clatter on television about Sarah Palin furthers my doubts.

Maybe I won’t bomb like her. One network even used the word “stupid” for her delivery. For an instant, I felt compassion for her on that one. Maybe I have empathy because I will be the subject of conversation in our little paper next week. I want to feel the power of womanhood surge through my veins. Maybe all women cringe when another female cracks under pressure. In her case, it is often more of a fly-over answer. I may have to utilize that technique.

I hope I can go to sleep tonight. In past years, I wondered if our local paper would report either of our sons’ pitching records correctly. I crossed my fingers hoping they might be on the front page of the tiny sports section. I lost sleep enough. When our daughter was part of the state championship drama team in 1997, I bought a truckload of papers. The kids have had their glory days. Now I have a shot at fame.

My press kit is ready to go. I have written a half dozen blurbs about my book. If only I could get Sarah Palin and her Teflon smile out of my head. Then and only then, will I be able to think straight. ALL ROADS LEAD TO HAZARD, has cut a path for me. I take the first step in the morning. Maybe this qualifies me for vice president.