4th of July Weekend, Relatives, and Other Stuff
These berries are VERY sour, and unfortunately they are everywhere. The birds eat 'em, poop 'em, and voila. Everywhere.
I have no big plans for this weekend. Maybe I'll take the two-year-old to see fireworks. . . is he too young for fireworks? I haven't purchased fireworks for years, and I'm not about to. Talk about lighting money on fire . . .
We just had a mess of relatives come through here for our 2nd son's baptism. Oh, it was madness. MADNESS. Both sets of grandparents were there to witness, as well as several car loads of my own relatives up from Portland. There are things that you endure for your family--this was certainly one of those things that Meredith and I had to endure for our families. At least we got a blue ribbon out of the whole affair.
The other stuff? I have to write a ballad this week, and I've actually been meaning to. I need a poem to serve as the center point for a historical collection of poems I've been writing for awhile now that has to do with Filipino migrant workers in the Pacific Northwest. I'm particularly interested in the events of 1928 when Filipino farmworkers were forced out of Yakima Valley. Perfect subject for a ballad.
The etc.--I'm still burning on this article by Joel Stein in Time Magazine. At best it's piss-poor "journalism." At worst it's blatant racism. I'm still trying to compartmentalize my anger into a constructed response. Otherwise I'm going to wind-up gushing bile.
The other etc.--M. Night Shyamalan's catching heat for his casting decisions in The Last Air Bender. I have not seen the film so I will not speak directly about the film, only what I can about the casting decisions--what were they thinking? Oh dear lord, I need to get to work.
Let's shake this distortion.