What price, what freedom, who’s freedom?

LONE WOLF, America--The Associated Press reports a Cobra helicopter shot down near Ramadi.

Now 2,037 dead American military men and women, some fifteen to sixteen thousand wounded, maimed, life-changed. Hundreds of thousands “free” Iraqis killed. Operation Iraqi Liberation (OIL) was founded on the lies of fear, based on pornographic dreams of rich people and insecure wanna-be intellectuals. Come on! Bring it home. Call it a day. If we want real democracy we’ll clean up the military mess and go back and fix what we broke the best we can.

We click off lives lost as we click off the days in Iraq with no end in sight. And how many terrorists have we killed today. And how many innocents have we killed today. And how many more will make it just?

How many have we tortured today? How many have we freed today? Weigh it, balance it like the books, like the profit margins of the top oil producers, in billions of dollars stolen in one quarter of this year. Lies and fakery.

How slowly can Libby, Rove, Cheney and Bush spin in the wind? And how long until we cut them off? Impeach them now. End the war now. Save us all now.

When Colin Powell said, break it we own it, the neocons salivated over owning all that oil. They got it wrong. We own something other than that coveted black gold. We own a wicked liquid, the blood on our hands. Bye, guys. Time for new leaders in government, in business, in education. Bye, bye.

Borrowed this from The Writer’s Almanac:

“Yeats said that a writer must work a way inwards, into self-knowledge. I am always surprised at what I find in myself and this to me is the most rewarding part of being a writer." --Doris Lessing

Is the Bush administration influencing domestic policy?
Mayor wants to cut thumbs off graffiti artists. What’s next? plucking the eyes from strip club patrons?

And the quote of the day (yesterday, from Thinkexist.com):

"Reality can destroy the dream; why shouldn't the dream destroy reality?"
- George Moore.

Power to our people!

Power is back in her neighborhood, Carol reports from Miami. I asked her what she was going to be for Halloween. Here's a pictorial hint. You can get this and more on ebay.

Skunks and raccoons

In the tree, on the second to lowest branch, is a raccoon. She survived Wilma. She is cute. (Photo courtesy of JR in Hollywood.)

But I smell skunks on the horizon. Tomorrow?
And this guy charged today:

"A coin dealer and major GOP donor at the center of a scandal in Ohio State government was charged with illegally funneling $45,400 in contributions to President Bush's reelection bid," according to the Associated Press.

Other scents in the foul political air? Delay, Frist, Rove, "Scooter." And one question of the day: Did Harriet Miers withdraw her nomination to the highest court in the land? Or was this scent of arrogance extinguished by another?

New, Post-Wilma, From Hollywood

Justin & Michelle's tree (top), Jane and Wade's to-be-updated shutters (right), Hollywood, FL.
(All photos, Jane R.)




Sunset Golf Course, Hollywood, FL, where I wasted a lot of my youth.

Just in from Carol. Tracy has power!

Jane’s doing well, sent an email.

I predict good steady progress on South Florida infrastructure.

This just in from Jane:

“ . . . Hillary . . . has power, the (Manta Ray Motel, Hollywood Beach) has power so Justin and Michelle are staying there. Actually Justin just brought us six gallons of gas because they went upstate to get it yesterday and got power today!”

Good news for my family and friends down there.

(I must learn how to operate layout tools.)

Power may be out four weeks

My sister reports family is doing OK. Miami Herald says this morning FPL might take up to four weeks to restore power in South Florida.

Here's a photo of a black walnut tree limb on her back deck.

J.R. says, "We have very low water pressure and are under boil-water orders . . . right, with no power."

She has a working a phone line and DSL and plenty of bottled water.

My reports say family in South Florida is OK

This photo may or may not be funny

Spent much of the day watching Hurricane Wilma move through Florida, where I grew up, worrying about family and friends. I made a couple of phone calls and it seems all is as well as it can be. There may be many days without power but thank God for generators. Temperatures are dropping into the thirties every night this week in Atlanta. Tested the furnace and ended up with a nice tidy repair bill. Plenty of firewood stacked, though, and that's good with natural gas prices going up.

Just had another report from Carol and Stella chasing a Florida Power & Light truck down their street. Must be a good sign they'll have power soon. Go Stella!



I wonder what happened to the black hen and her chicks in the hurricane. The morning sound of chickens crowing is ubiquitous in Key West. Photo by Mary Todaro, taken last Wednesday.

She gets an incomplete before committee takes her to school

Inadequate, insulting, insufficient. That’s how leaders of the Senate Judiciary Committee characterized Harriet Miers’s written answers to a routine pre-hearing questionnaire. You’ll recall Miers is George W. Bush’s idea of the best possible Supreme Court replacement for Sandra Day O’Connor. The woman was never a judge yet has “mountains of information” to sift. Sounds like resume building time to me. From yesterday’s Times.


Thursday evening, Key West, looking toward Wilma. She's still out there. Glad we stayed
another night.

We played chicken with Wilma and she won

Arrived in Key West Tuesday night. Mary and I had delicious grouper sandwiches at Caroline’s, walked around a bit, went to bed at La Concha. The FIU Writers’ conference began the next morning at 8:30 and ended at 10:30. Visitors were ordered to evacuate, hotels and conference centers were closing. Mary attended one workshop with Dan Wakefield, and I with Jim Daniels. Jim’s was interesting and I looked forward to exploring some of his ideas for writing in poetic forms I had yet to explore.

I look forward to being able to work with Denise and Nick another time, it's been several years, but it was great seeing them again and chatting if only for several minutes.

Suddenly we were looking for flights and buses to Miami; van rides; and conference directors and faculty were trying to hook us up with a plan; a concierge suggesting of all things a ferry to Fort Meyers then saying, cool it, you’ll be fine for a day or two here.

We went back to the conference site, Pier House, had a drink at the beach bar, swam in the Gulf of Mexico, went out to dinner, and I had a poem critiqued by a guy next to me at The Green Parrot Bar.

The next morning I watched Channel 6 from Miami taping mundane scenes of Conchers carrying plywood. Flew into Miami, where we were interviewed by Channel 10 (Ooooo, were you scared?) gave my 120 second editorial of how they should be covering more important stories such as Bush budget cuts affecting needed levee reconstruction in New Orleans for the past five years and hiring idiots to run agencies such as FEMA. (My nephew in Ft. Lauderdale reports it was aired, along with Mary’s interview).

Many thanks to the FIU writing faculty for doing the best they could with what they were dealt. Especially Cindy Chinelly, so responsive, so on top of minute-to-minute changes. And Les Standiford, who tried the best he could to fit two into one seat in his car (take my wife, please, take my wife!).

We tried. And I got a lead on a good long poem I’m working on now. No, so far, it doesn’t have a thing to do with Key West, the conference, or hurricanes.

And we were able to visit with my dear sister, Carol, on a four-hour layover in Miami.

Back on the farm now,

Tom Todaro.

Just thought we'd fly down for a late hurricane

We're headed for Key West today to attend the fabulous FIU Writers' Conference. After watching a pretty mean hurricane season, you'd think we'd be clear for mid-October.

Wilma! The tropical storm is well south of the Cayman Islands and Cuba. Could be a hurricane when the conference ends this weekend. Will probably head west of us.

Some topics for poetry workshops at the conference:

Fear is just a word.
What's that whistling sound?
Ode to plywood.
Lift that mattress and let me in.
Isn't that Anderson Cooper out there on the corner?
The wind cries, Mary?
So do I, Mary!
We flew in and somehow we'll fly out!
Yabba, dabba do! Wilma.
Looking into the eye of the muse.

Topics if the conference is cancelled:

You don't need a poetry workshop to know which way the wind blows.
A flood of letters in Wilma's wake.
What Denise and Nick would have said, what I would have written, what they would have said.
And finally, John Dufresne must be really pissed off now (he hates hurricanes).

And so on. If the airline flies, so do Mary and I. (We fly out late.) If not, that would be a great disappointment (its been several years) but glad we bought the travel company refund insurance.

Bush not the worst president, I guess

Bush has served much longer than seven weeks in the White House. They say Muskrat was the worst president. On second thought, seven weeks looks pretty damn good right now.

White House staffers walking the halls with dazzed eyes, W. is cranky and has temper tantrums--doesn't want to hear bad news. Needs DVD's of the days events only when necessary. Mamma Rove has his own troubles. Congressional republicans scamper like, well, muskrats! Heaven help these guys if an opposing party ever gets its shit together.

Bush administration target IAEA, head, get Peace Prize

When Mohamed ElBaradei and the International Atomic Energy Agency he leads declined to back Bush's rationale for invading Iraq, the Bush Crony Club tried to get him out of the IAEA--going so far as wire-tapping for dirt on the guy and recruiting replacements. Mission not accomplished.

Congratulations, Mohamed ElBaradei and IAEA, for sticking to your (absence of) guns, and for your well-deserved Nobel Peace Prize.

Bush creates own tabloid world: God told him to invade

Incredibly, a report coming from BBC in the coming weeks says our president told mid-east leaders: "God would tell me, 'George, go and fight those terrorists in Afghanistan.'
"And I did, and then God would tell me, 'George, go and end the tyranny in Iraq...' And I did." God told him to invade

Did God tell him about WMD? Did God tell him to go stand on an aircraft carrier, declaring "Mission Accomplished?" Wonder what God said about Brownie's great job at FEMA. I wonder how many other administration appointments were made by God. Guess God told George to try cutting back on health care for the poor and elderly. Gut education. Tear up the Arctic Wildlife Refuge. Guess God told George Robin Hood had it backwards. Gee Whiz, if Bush has God's ear what do we have to worry about? God is running our country! Everything's going to be alright.

Loosen up! Abbotts Pointe

By Tom Todaro
President
Abbotts Pointe Home Owner’s Association.

I was looking for a way to help generate a bit of excitement or at least more interest in our block party Saturday. As some of you (residents ) know turnout has been dismal to the low-end of mediocre in many years past.

So I thought I might try my hand at publicity and advertising, something I’ve spent thirty years of my career doing.

My wife though younger has spent her career in the same business. When her company, a retail concern, closed, we acquired some foam rubber mannequins. Being “self-taught” artists as well as advertising creatives, we’ve saved six or more of these mannequins in our attic, thinking we could make things out of them, and we have. We’ve given some of them away over the years, including the pink ones. All we had left were some black foam figures, mannequins, those things they use in stores to display fashion clothing.

We thought these items might make interesting, attention-getting, signs for the block party. Not having much time to spend, being busy making our living in advertising, Mary painted simple faces and words like “fun” and “run” along with the day and time of the block party.

I placed them on Home Owners Association property at the entrance to Abbotts Pointe.

In a few hours, I had complaints. One seemed to be a complaint implying racism, I’m not sure. The other seemed to be an “anti-Halloween” complaint, though I’m not sure of that, either, since the figures had as much to do with Halloween as “The Scream,” a piece by Edvard Munch, the great 19th century Dutch painter.

I was prepared to apologize for my effort and Mary’s as well. But I’ve reconsidered. I’m not going to say, “I’m sorry.” I will say I’ve learned a lot about leadership in a community but the most important thing I’ve learned is this: You can’t do it alone. It takes more involvement by more members of the community. It takes getting out on the street and getting to know each other.

(As a side note, I “market tested” my fun-figure signs in my yard for two days. I had a conversation with two board members, standing in front of them. We all agreed they were fine and I distinctly said I would then place them in public at the entrance.)

Apparently, some out there in Abbotts Pointe don’t know me. And it seems some think they know how everybody thinks. Call it fear maybe. I’d rather call it a reluctance to loosen up, be yourself, and be real.

Those were not derogatory depictions of any people of color from any country (Abbotts Pointe is populated by people of color from many countries).

And if they evoked Halloween and that is bad, maybe we should ban Halloween yard ornaments and kids begging for candy October 31st.

Anybody for a stone-construction of the Ten Commandments at the entry to Abbotts Pointe?

Delay Indicted (etc.) Judith Miller Still in Jail?

Tom Delay was indicted today.

Bill Frist is on the run from the SEC for insider trading.

Carl Rove is under scrutiny for outing Valerie Plame as undercover for the CIA. Judith Miller has been in jail, what?, going on four months? For not writing a story about Plame? About Robert Novak who wrote a column about Plame? Where is Novak since he imploded on CNN?

Bush crony Mr. Brown has a thing going on with a scapegoat.

Iraq is killing us faster than we can kill Iraq.

China is eating our international economic lunch (soul food take out in little cardboard boxes next?).

I think way back to 1999 when friends were telling me they'd vote for Bush not because he would be a good leader but because he had good people around him.

Where? Who?

An Old Man's Waiting Room

At 55 I’m a little hippie in Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s waiting room,
City Lights, where electricians repair some sort of wiring
on the stair, of all places, leading to the poetry.

The hammering is unexpected but not out of place,
faces of Burroughs, Ginsberg, Kerouac and others
staring from underneath their covers as charged as ever
and maybe even as electrified as Blake or Whitman.

I might have thought of eyes watching me but I was
watching them, conceitedly watching the little alcove-
hallway, and the door behind which they told me
the old man still keeps hours, thinking maybe I’ll
get a signed copy in the Coney Island of my mind.

The pounding of the hammers, drilling of the drills,
life support for poets in the marketplace of North Beach
where whole hogs hang in open doorways, hungry poets howl.

My conceit continues as they watch me for what I’ll do next,
so I get up and read a love poem to an audience of its object.

Tom Todaro
13 April 2005
City Lights Books, San Francisco

Back again, this time with feeling

Much to report and report I will as time goes on. Mary and I made that wonderful trip to San Francisco, the city of love, for our twenty fifth anniversary. Much exploration of the city, the Haight, Golden Gate Park (and, yes, Bridge), North Beach--several trips out to City Lights Books, where I smiled to see John Dufresne's "Johnny Too Bad" on the shelf as I walked in the door for the first time.

Had a letter in the Atlanta Journal and constitution yesterday. Concerning China and it's rapid buy-out of world resources and American companies (Unicol, second largest oil company), while our leaders micro-manage a senseless presence in Iraq, China picks our pockets.

Much work to do; more later.

Good to be back

Had a computer problem. A loaner wouldn't let me log in. Got my laptop back in shape thanks to Jimmy The Switch, Campbell. Thanks, Jimmy.

Much more to come.

Planning a 25th anniversary trip with Mary. Much more in store but for now we're finishing up an ad campaign for Whole World Theater. Good, again, to have the system back up and working as always.

George and Jeb's Florida,
the vegetative state

We’re witnessing history here, fellow Americans. We have a biologically operative congressional leadership, vegetating for the Christian Coalition against seventy-five percent of Americans, with a White House equal to the mindless, mind-numbing task of turning your democracy, your family, and any law they can deem unfit upside down. Call them contradictory, cognitively vegetative and they are taking action tonight to walk through the front door of your house and decide how to run your family. Better hide your teenagers or they’ll grab them and take them off to die in their illegal war while they’re at it.

Hey, Congress, how about a little universal health insurance over here to fund the vegetative state to which you are driving us.

White knight or political pawn?

The president leaves his ranch-sans-herd to rush to the legislative bedside of Terri Schiavo. The governor sits in Tallahassee. Does he have a "ranch?" probably should get one to ready himself for his presidential run. Brother Jeb awaits an outcome favorable to his rise to dynasty (funny word, dy-nasty). If only he can keep TS alive through the homestretch, fall 2008.

The values voters, neocon driven, puppeteer ready, root on the sidelines. It's OK if their party promotes states rights, keeps government out of our private lives except when they see a mindless game of "life at all costs." This one stinks worse than an open colostomy bag valve.

Concern for Terri Schiavo

It’s been awhile. There is much to write about. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking, working my day job. Avoiding TV news. But blog on I must.

What does America’s premier writer of love and death, John Dufresne, think of this Terri Schiavo ordeal. I must believe he is keeping copious notes. By the way, I’m into Died and Gone to Heaven at this point, the third to last story of Johnny Too Bad, one of the best books I’ve ever had the privilege of holding in my hands. The other night, sitting by my fireplace after a hard days work, sipping a Jameson’s day before St. Pat’s day, I read one of the most astoundingly honest and entertaining stories ever, JTB, the title story of my dear acquaintance’s book.

Tonight, after visiting my son, who was kind of sick today, delivering ginger ale and saltines, Pepto Bismol, bottled water, I finally caught today’s big story. The courts, the Florida sorry-ass excuse for a governor, the Florida state legislature, and now the U.S. congress, hell, even Larry Fucking King, are all trying to ride some sort of horse they hope will be high enough to keep this Terri Sciavo alive to prove some sort of theory that America won’t let anybody die if it can help it.

Wow. This may seem like a rant from a poster who has been asleep since Feb 1 but that is not the truth. I’m worried about us. I’m afraid about how we work. I have a wonderful son, hope he is feeling better in the morning, and an astoundingly beautiful daughter with a perfect boyfriend (he’s also my friend). And they have to live with all this bullshit America has become under this frightening, so-called leadership for much longer than I do.

So, here’s to George W. Bush. Here’s to Larry King. Here’s to Scarborough Country. With a special nod to Bill O’Rielly, and Jeb Bush, throw in Peter Jennings, and that new anchor at NBC (what’s his name?), and all them jackasses on CNN, especially Wolf Blitzer and Mr. 360 himself. You are all hurting us. Fuck you all.

Get out of our lives. Let Democracy be. It’s done fine without you, so back off.

Set some precedent here. Stick that feeding tube back in poor Teri. You’ll see more of us sticking pistols in our mouths and pulling the trigger if you do. Have a nice day