Thanks, Obama!

As I can't even begin to fathom that today is real and we really do have this ridiculous man as our new President ... I'll today mentally focus on my gratitude for the best President of my lifetime, Barack Obama, and his wonderful wife Michelle.

They handled everything that came their way with poise, class, and wisdom. They always took the high road. They were a beautiful example on how to lead with compassion and intelligence. That's all gone now, and tears streamed down my face earlier today when I saw them fly away. The only solace I can find is that those eight Obama years flew by very quickly ... let's hope the next four (if he manages not to be impeached that long) are just a blink of our collective eyes.

Thank you, President and Michelle Obama. You are the real deal, and we were so incredibly fortunate to have you as our representative to the World. You'll be more than missed. Thank you also for your continued gift of HOPE. We'll need it.


*Top photo from First Avenue in Minneapolis.
*Bottom photo:Reuters

President Obama Inaugurated on Martin Luther King Jr. Day

The sun was brightly shining in Venice today, as I got up early to watch President Obama be sworn in for his second term on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Wow.



Today was a beautiful day in America. For us ALL.

Four More Years!

Venice (and the rest of the country that is sane) went out and voted BIG for Barack Obama on Election Day, and now we have four more years to try and get things DONE.

As our two-term President said in his victory speech, "The task of perfecting our Union moves forward ..."

Onward. UPward!

Phew.

October's Venice Art Crawl

The Venice Art Crawl for October was last night, and my friend Francie and I hit all the spots. Which wasn't hard to do, as there weren't very many locations this month for some reason, but they were all a good time, that's for sure.

We began, as one should, with some whiskey at The Townhouse. Down the hatch, fortified, we went to see some acid trip looking pieces by D. Castro upstairs at Danny's Deli. We kind of did the Clark Griswold nod on that, and headed down the misty Boardwalk to my favorite bookstore in this city, or perhaps any, Small World Books.

There were two cool artists showing at Small World, and both were highlights of the whole deal this month. David Jensen (DavidJensenArt.com) had three large Obama pieces all made out of scraps of Hawai'ian fabric. We have to get one to the President, I think he'd love them. Maybe as a congratulatory gift for his second term! From my fingers typing to God's ears ...

Also showing at Small World Books was Kathleen Gaudet with her Zombie pieces. Great and hilarious, and you can even get Zombie snow globes as extra original gifts for the low zombie price of $15! Get there before they're all eaten alive.

There was a guy, Lenny Felix, set up outside of Cairo Cowboy on Windward, selling (I hope) his Day of The Dead inspired pieces, along with some Rasta and Jack Daniels ones, so clearly we became friends quickly. He has no web site or online way to get his work, which is rootsy, and I like it better for it. I'm old school like that. You have to email him - Felixtat2@yahoo.com  Again, great gifts.

My friend Kiki just opened her new and GORGEOUS jewelry store at 100 Market Street (really on Pacific, by Mao's) and the party was ON in celebration. We'll be doing a story on her soon, as it's a good one. Her jewels are just one of kind, so pretty it kind of hurts to look at, and I want nearly every thing in there. It doesn't hurt that the entire floor is gold glitter, so it all feels like you just landed in a good fantasy. I love her. I love her work. And these are the GREATEST gifts you could possibly give someone. Anyone. (For the record, I'm deeply in love with the fuschia agate ring that covers like three fingers. Love.)

Canal Club had some celebs with animals photos by Charles Bush that we breezed through, and then hit James Beach to see cool works by Shark Toof and Ryan Graeff. Both were excellent.

By then it was time to book-end our night back at The Townhouse. We discussed what we saw over a night capper, and then biked off into the night (in our dresses and heels, of course) before we'd REALLY have to crawl - home.

Good times.

Af-GONE-istan.

I watched President Obama's speech on the (inherited) war in Afghanistan last night, and today find myself with thoughts that are all over the place. I worked very, very hard to help get Obama elected, and a big, big part of my zeal was that he had been against the Iraq War from the very beginning. So to hear him say that we're pretty much doubling down in Afghanistan now - was kind of nauseating.

I have to believe that he knows more than I do about the circumstances over there, and as he said last night, "This is no idle danger", and there have been threats of attacks that we the people don't even know about - ones that could be 9/11 all over again. But won't there ALWAYS be that threat? Al Qaeda is all over the place, not just in Afganistan, and most people feel they're operating mostly out of Pakistan - where we can't even have troops. Us being in the Middle East at all is basically a recruitment tool for the young guys coming up to hate us more. And clearly we have pretty big messes (again, inherited) back home to clean up - and pay for - that should be our main focus as a nation. Yet we can't take our eye off any balls over there either, with there being nuclear aspirations from Iran, etc ... and I just saw "The Road". We can't have that.

The good news for me: first, that Obama directly addressed the Afghani people, telling them that we want to be their Partner, "not your Patron." That was so great to hear, and so vastly different from his rotten predecessor that I almost cried. Secondly, he voiced a plan to have all our troops out by the end of 2011. A real end in sight to all this madness! Sure, 2011 seems really far off, but with all the red-tape and bureaucracy in government that makes EVERYTHING take forever (see: any US Health Care Plan), it's probably the most realistic time frame. But UGH!!!

"We are a country born out resistance to oppression", said Obama, so basically, we know how it feels. We need to have respect and dignity for ALL people - "That is who we are". It was so refreshing to hear that from our Leader after not showing that to the world AT ALL the previous eight years. Which Obama also addressed, saying, "We're not as young, and perhaps not as innocent ..." - again, refreshing. But I believe our President is an optimist, and really truly believes in our good - as a nation, and as a people. We had the whole world united with us after 9/11 (which Bush used to dupe patriotic young men and women to enlist to fight his WRONG war in Iraq, and squandered entirely the good will towards us) - and WE were united all together for once too. Obama said last night, "I refuse to accept that we cannot summon that unity again." Well, me too. It's not a game where you choose sides, People. We're all in this together, remember. I think people forget that in their haste to be "right" or whatever their deal is, but that way of thinking should be long past. UNITY makes us great - the UNITED States - not our petty Party fighting.

Anyway, last year I went to the Walter Reed Hospital and met with a bunch of our wounded soldiers. That day is seared into my memory forever, and as I looked into the eyes of guys who had been blown apart and pieced together again (for WHAT?!) in Iraq, I saw the sickening cost of War, live and in person. I'm re-posting the article of that day here now. It's long - and hard - to read, but it's what it's really all about.

A nauseating reminder that WAR IS NOT THE ANSWER!

Iraq Veterans Against The War. Of all the organizations we've worked with thus far on the Justice Tour 2008, this is the one that I now wish we had held the show the second day. Because we met a bunch of the guys at The Black Cat in Washington D.C. at the show, but we had not yet visited the Walter Reed Hospital, which we did today. Had we seen what we saw today by show time ... I think it would've been an even more powerful celebration of these fine men, and definitely more angry.

I met Garett Reppenhagen at the show, the first active duty member of IVAW. He told me then that he had started an anti-war blog while still in Iraq, even though that was a risky thing to do in the current military. He was investigated, of course, and wound up being honorably discharged - probably just to shut him up - but I can tell you, that will not work on this guy. He's very well spoken and tells his and his comrades stories quite readily. When interviewing him after the show, I was intrigued when he said the first time he felt "support for the troops was when he heard about the peace movement. According to him, the best way we can "Support Our Troops" (a nice bumper sticker, but what is that driver really doing about it?) is to do all we can to get them home.

For us, that began by joining them this morning to visit the Walter Reed VA Hospital in Washington D.C. We met in the lobby of our hotel, and when I said yesterday about the show that the tone of it was heavier, I had no idea what I was talking about yet. Today would be one of the heaviest of our lives.

The Nightwatchman and friends (Breckin Meyer, Wayne Kramer, Dave Gibbs, Ryan Harvey, myself and my brother, Paul, plus Deyden, our charity organizer) joined Tomas Young, the subject of the gripping documentary, "Body Of War", as well as Garett and Geoff Millard from IVAW on a bus ride to the hospital. Passing through the beautiful Georgetown neighborhood is very misleading in D.C. ... they say the crime rate in D.C. is astronomical in the areas surrounding the groomed perfection of the tourist areas, but I'd say our nation's very WORST crimes are master-minded dead center - in The White House. Today confirmed that to be spot-on.

Garett gave us a bit of a briefing on the bus ride, saying no cameras or journalists were allowed inside still (Why? What are they hiding? Or are they just nervous of the American people seeing the many horrific injuries and searing pain, both physical and mental, that festers inside, and RIOTING to put an end to this insidious war for profit? I suspect that to be the case). I wasn't worried about not being allowed to take notes ... what I saw is burned on my brain forever, and we only saw what we were allowed to see. Garett said we should expect to see burn victims, amputees, and that some people may have just arrived a day before, fresh from the Hell hole our President created. We would not be seeing the ICU, and they won't even let the kidney patients in there, because the rats, roaches and mold previously found there would be too large an infection risk. The hospital did not know that IVAW guys were coming, they just knew that Tom Morello from Rage Against The Machine was coming by with some friends to visit with our brave soldiers wounded in the line of duty. I'd think RAGE vs. the MACHINE would give them some pause, but nope.

We were met at the entry to the gigantic complex by a very cheerful guard who smiled big and said, "Welcome to Walter Reed, Home of Warrior Care!", and after checking our i.d.'s, we were waved through. We passed a sign that said "Kid's Fest, This Sunday!" and "Staff Appreciation Day - Yay Staff" or something like that. Frosting on a shit cake. We met our guide, a pretty, smiling woman who greeted us with p.r. perfection, and went inside. You enter the lobby and are immediately surrounded by all the usual corporate suspects: Subway, Dunkin' Donuts, etc .. in a food court. There are big flags and pictures of high-up military general guys all over the place, because you know, it's a really patriotic place. As sanitized and normal-seeming as it was, I found myself glancing around for buzzards. Because of all we know (and may never know) and feel about this war, the place feels sinister in your gut.

We all crammed on an elevator together to head to the 6th floor, where it had been prepared for us to visit. This is normally a very chatty bunch, but not today. All we could do is give each other furtive glances and tight, uneasy smiles of support. I was wondering how Tomas felt, as this was his first visit back to Walter Reed since he was a patient here, on the same floor. He revealed nothing on his face, and I continued to admire his strength. The elevator door opened and we went to the nursing station to introduce ourselves. They had been expecting us, and had that air of excitement when people know they're talking to someone famous. They all wear fatigues and address each other with "Lieutenant" and "Major" and "Sir". Our guide told us we could go in three or four at a time to the rooms, and that each time we would put "goop" on our hands to sanitize them and lessen infection risk. We gooped up and Tom, Wayne, Tomas and I entered, pretty much holding our breaths.

I'm not going to use names, because I don't know that they would want me to, but the first room we entered was tiny and squished in the corner on a little hospital bed was an older man, with a sweet smile and ears that stuck out, making him seem like a little boy in an 47 year old's body. He had a bandaged stump on his right leg, which would raise in the air whenever he moved a little. He did not recognize the guys, and just seemed happy to have any visitors at all. He'd been a career military man, got out and became a mortician, missed the military so signed up for the National Guard, never thinking he'd be sent to Iraq. But he was. He was involved in an explosion, but outwardly was fine, so they told him to take some Motrin and he'd be fine. They didn't look closely enough though, because a blood vessel was pinched behind his knee-cap and his was in constant and excruciating pain. 5 years of this, and 15 surgeries later, they took his leg this past January. He went back and forth between "Why me?" and "It could've been worse, I could've been blown up" and back to "Why me? The Lord must have his reasons". He said, "It's Staff Appreciation Day here, but none of them is here appreciating me." He has family, but never talks to them about his mental anguish, because he doesn't want to worry them, and no one can possibly understand anyway. Tears rolled down his cheeks (and mine), and Tomas told him that HE understood, he'd been a patient right down the hall. The man's eyes widened up, and they shared stories of Sadr City and Kirkuk. Tomas told gently told him about IVAW and gave him his personal phone number, saying that if he ever needed to talk to someone, to please call anytime. "Well, I sure appreciate that ... it's hard. It's hard." It was hard just to witness, so I can only imagine what he's struggling with internally. Tom gave him a t-shirt and a c.d., Wayne thanked him for his service, I tried not to openly cry in front of him, and we all shook hands and headed out for the next room. Our friends were waiting in the hall with wide eyes, and I couldn't even speak yet, just shake my head and regroup for the next one.

All gooped up, our next visit was with a young man who had been a medic in Iraq. He looked pretty good, in gym shorts and shirt. Until he pulled up his shirt and showed us his open shrapnel wound in his belly that looked to be held together with a kind of black duct tape. His team had been walking and a suicide bomber went off. He was able to stay conscious just long enough to tell his buddy where his morphine and bandages were, and then woke up two weeks later with a gaping hole in his gut. He said, "It's bad over there, and it's only getting worse. The first time I went, they were happy to see us. The next time they had more sophisticated bombs. The last time they weren't happy to see us at all". Yep, the surge sure is working. We really can't believe a THING the government is saying about this War, that much is clear as a bell. He knew Tom and gladly accepted a signed shirt and c.d., saying he loved music, and had been listening to a lot of reggae lately, as it makes him feel happier. Tomas rolled in and told him that he was the subject of the film soundtrack we'd just given him, "Body Of War", and that he was now working with a group of Iraq Vets Against the War. With not a second of hesitation, the guy said, "Sign me up!" Geoff Millard came in and gave him an IVAW poster and a copy of their newsletter, but The Medic seemed nervous to take that. He said he'd read it and put it under his mattress. Geoff invited him to come and hang out at the IVAW House not far away, and the guy said "I'll definitely call. We can get lunch, I've been wanting to go to this Tex Mex place" ... and I have a good feeling that lunch will happen soon. I hope it's soon, because as soon as he's fully PHYSICALLY recovered, he's supposed to ship back out, to Afghanistan this time. A reminder that the clock is ticking and we need to step up efforts to get this War over with, before it takes back the already unbelievably suffering young men who have given enough already!

Goop. The Medic had been pretty chipper, aside from wincing in pain periodically. The next guy was not. He was laid out in bed, with his Mom and Wife hovering around him with concern in their eyes. He had been hit by an IED (Improvised Explosive Device), and shattered his femur and a bunch of other stuff. He had a big metal bolt like thing sticking out from under the covers, and seemed very doped up and tired. He recognized Tom and Breckin, who had joined us. Apparently "Road Trip" is very big in the barracks. Once again we were told how bad it is over there, and how he has no idea how it could get any better. He said all sorts of trouble and support is coming out of Pakistan, but you never hear anything about that. Frankly, you never hear anything in the news about any of it. Corporate media, in cahoots with this administration, don't want you to see the faces and maimed bodies, or hear about the horror movies that are these guys lives, because then we as a people wouldn't put up with it anymore. So much for free speech. I took a photo of Tom and Breckin with the young (almost all were 25 or younger), and it hurt just to see the guy attempt a grimace of a smile, while his wife and Mom tried their best to appear normal and happy. He and his then girlfriend, now wife, had a fight and broke up, and that's when he joined the military. I bet his wife will regret that fight the rest of her life, and it's a reminder that this war is hurting so many people on the periphery as well.

The strong medicinal smell of the hand sanitizer and the sickish smell of pain and suffering did not leave us all day. The bright fluorescent lighting everywhere made it all the more garish and exposed. We were about to head to another floor, when the guide said a guy was waiting who was very excited about Tom.
We entered a room where a crinkly-eyed smiling Samoan guy was, surrounded by his wife and little daughters. His face lit up when he saw Tom, who had no way to shake his hand, because they were all bandaged up. He was very covered up, so we're not sure what all was wrong with him, but he looked very scrambled, with black wounds peeking out of his bandages. Ugh. He had been in the military since the 80's and said that American Samoa is heavily recruited by our military, and he had, ironically, joined to get the "good health benefits" and be able to provide for his family. He kept saying, "It's really, really bad over there, really really bad". He did not have to elaborate, when you saw the grief on his face and totally messed up body. But his smile was wide, especially when Tom signed a shirt for him. Tom asked him what he would do about it all if he was the President. He said, and he was very well spoken, "Well, I'd have used diplomacy first, and tried politics ... but it's too late for that now. We need to pull out all the troops, and just leave some to protect our base. The Iraqis need to sort it out themselves, because they just think of us as invaders now, so it's only going to stay bad as long as we're there." General Petraeus must have forgotten that part in his recent testimony. He was a hard one to leave, since as bad as it was, he just wanted to be a good guy, you could tell. Watching the young daughters be silent and well-behaved as they looked at their beat up Hero of a Daddy was tough. And it just got worse from there.

Before we left the floor to head down to another one, the nurses had Tom sign some paper for them, and then handed a stack of printed out Google photos of Breckin to him to sign. Both of them were happy to do it, but I think it all felt a little silly signing things for laughing nurses when there was so much pain and anger and wrongness about the place. It was hard to lighten up.

Taking the elevator down a few floors, we got out, greeted some workers and then were led down a hall to a room where they told Tom a huge fan of his was. A big strapping blond mohawked man sat in a wheelchair, grinning when Tom came in. He had been in a Humvee accident just the 13th of April, the beginning of this tour! It had flipped over (they were speeding, and it sounded like it was their own fault) and he was in the gunner's seat on top. The way he talked, slow and searching, and the way he'd change the subject out of the blue, led you to believe there was some brain damage, which he confirmed. Of all the guys we met, he was the only one who thought things were getting better in Iraq, but he also came off as one of the reckless, gung-ho guys that got into it all for the adrenalin. And he had a brain injury, so that might also explain that (really the only good excuse these days). He was a big fan of Rage and Audioslave, and loved Breckin and "Road Trip" too, wanting to know about Tom Green and if he's really that crazy. His wife was there, clutching a picture of their four year old playing "Guitar Hero 3" for Tom to sign. They were thrilled to meet Tom, and had a photo taken with him and Breckin. This guy echoed the sentiment that many did, that you feel guilty, and kind of want to go back to Iraq just to check that your buddies will be ok. After this heavy-metal guy, things felt a little lighter, but that was not to last long.

We met back up with Wayne, Dave, Paul and the others in the hallway, and were told we had one more guy to visit with what our time permitted. Paul, knowing me and my being prone to tears said, "You might not want to go in there", which made me nervous. Tom, Tomas, Breckin and I went into this young man's room (only 24) and said hello. He talked very slow and lethargically, so it was hard to hear him clearly, but I thought he said something about an IED blowing up and injuring his femur. I thought he was in a recliner or something underneath his covers because I didn't see his legs. It slowly dawned on us that he had been blown in half, and had nothing below his belly button, from what we could tell. He pulled down the covers a bit, and showed us how his hip was at an outward angle AND he had a spinal injury. He told us that "to tell you the truth, I kind of feel like they're experimenting on me here, since they've never seen anyone with all three injuries". His Mother and cousin were there, and you realized that they'd all be dealing with this the rest of their lives ... including his baby who was to be baptized the next day. He was supposed to be fitted for something called "Shorties" that afternoon (prosthetic slip on legs that make you like a little person height) but wasn't looking forward to it since it hurt so bad the last time they tried. He looked at Tomas in his wheelchair and asked what he was doing now, as if to wonder what there could be left in life for him. Tomas told him he worked with IVAW and there was a documentary he was the subject of ... and the kid, though heavily drugged, said, "Oh, yeah?" You saw a little light go on, like maybe there would be something left for him after all, if this guy who'd shared the same floor at Walter Reed was now rolling with rock stars and movie actors. Tomas told him about IV AGAINST the War, and you could tell the kid was mixed about talking about that. Maybe it was too fresh, or he wasn't comfortable talking about that under the nose of the military, but when Tomas said, "I'm usually up all night and I can't sleep, so I'm going to give you my number and you can call anytime." The kid said, "Yeah, isn't that weird? I can't sleep either. But Mandy Moore was here last week and gave me her number, so I'll probably call her. You want it?" We all laughed at that gallows humor, but that was about the only thing to laugh at all day long, and just then to break the tension. He was injured when his crew was clearing a road to make sure it was clear and safe for some visiting diplomats. His buddy was decapitated in front of him, so he felt lucky. He was torn in half to protect the very guys who put him in that situation! I was shaking. We gave him the shirt, c.d. and signed poster, plus the info on IVAW and thanked him for his sacrifice. I just wanted to get out of there before I screamed out in rage. Tears were running down my face and when we got out in the hallway, I saw Kid Lightning and he was in the same shape. We walked down the hall arm in arm along with the rest of the gang, and Garett asked if I was ok. I don't feel like ANY of us are ok! How can we as a nation be at all ok when our young men and women are over there being split in two or worse for NOTHING?! For PROFIT?!?! That IS what's happening, whatever you want to say or think about it ... and that IS also what the soldiers feel is happening. Tomas signed up for the military two days after 9/11 to help in the fight against terrorism and Osama Bin Laden (Who? We never hear about that search anymore, do we?). He was paralyzed after only 5 days in Iraq, but said that if it had happened in Afghanistan, (where he felt the battle should be, and still does) he'd be bummed about it, but would feel like it was for something, and he would not be in a documentary or involved with an anti-war group. But it didn't. It happened in a place where our government wants the oil and Halliburton is war profiteering and war crimes are rampant ... on and on and on, until none of us WILL be ok until the war is ended and the entire current administration is convicted of war crimes. And only then will we be able to look the world in the face and say we're STARTING to be ok.

So we thanked our guide and silently got on the bus. Slowly, we all started talking about it all ... everyone just sick to their stomachs, with sadness, shock, and righteous anger. As Tom said, "No one knows about this stuff, no one ever sees it!" So we're telling you. And hoping you will start asking to know about it, and to see it for yourselves. I KNOW that if access to these guys and their stories were readily available, the pressure for this war to be over would mount until they had no choice. Garett said, "If it never ends, we never lose." In my opinion, we've been losing the whole time, but it never felt this tangible until today at Walter Reed, "Home Of Warrior Care".

The next stop on our agenda was the IVAW House, where Vets against the war can come to organize, stay, get counseled by their peers, or just hang out and watch t.v., so they know that they are not alone. Geoff told our bus driver, "Just look for the house with all the anti-war propaganda on the lawn". And there it was, a big old house in a sketchy-ish neighborhood. We all filed in, lifting Tomas up the steps in his chair. From the moment you step in the door, you get it. The "You are not alone" posters paper the entryway, and other posters and stickers are everywhere. My favorite was "My kid fought in Iraq so yours could party in college". That about sums up the reality of it all, and our tendency to be Ostriches about the hard stuff in this country ... as long as there's cold beer and a game or American Idol on, it's all good. But deep down, every last one of us must know that it's not good at all.

We had a tour of the house (entirely paid for by small donations, and now a badass Justice Tour show the night before!), seeing the rooms of the 5 guys who live there now, and their "most important piece of equipment in the house", a punching bag. There was a computer room and a room where the Homefront Battle Buddies meet - a group that meets for peer support regarding mental health issues, since the VA seems to either deny it or drug them up instead of dealing with it, and the suicide rate of vets and soldiers is now up to 18 a day! This house seemed more and more crucial by the second.

We all ate lunch together, and listened to the IVAW guys speak about the history and strategy of their organization. They feel that if they take away military support for the war, it will have to end, and that seems obvious, but the challenges are many because the military makes it very easy to get in (even taking KKK members, gang members and drastically lowering height and weight standards as the willing and able pool is drying up), and very hard for soldiers to get out. Which is all the more reason why this group is so important - to let enlisted soldiers know that they have anti-war support among their peers makes is safer and easier to do something about it. As Geoff said, "This house does more for veterans than the entire VA System". And you can feel it. They want to make the military choose between having a military at all, or having this unjust occupation. The more you listen to them, the more you feel that they and WE can do it.

All the while, Geoff's little beagle, "Resistance" was running around, and they told us that Resistance is a certified PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - the military uses a lot of acronyms) Counselor. She has many clients, I'm sure.

The IVAW has three main objectives:
1) Immediate withdrawal of ALL occupying forces in Iraq - and
that includes Halliburton.
2) Take care of all Veterans (Hey McCain, why won't you sign the GI Bill when you're such a war hero? Hmmm ...)
3) Reparations for the Iraqi people. We are grossly indebted to this country we've destroyed.

That all seems perfectly logical and do-able to me. While we're at it maybe we can improve our OWN country with all the money we're currently using on committing daily crimes against humanity, which includes our own soldiers. Five new members signed up for the IVAW between the Justice Show and Walter Reed today. And the movement just keeps growing. They're sick of being USED as the reason to perpetuating this war, ala "We need to keep at it so the soldiers feel like they can be victorious." B.S. These guys will have a strong presence at the Political Conventions this summer, which will be good to raise their profile. As will all of us talking about it and promoting it. We OWE them that, at the very least.

They thanked us all for coming, and Tom for choosing their organization as the beneficiary of the D.C. stop on the Justice Tour. Tom thanked them for EXISTING - the fact that they got organized and built their group makes it easier for other soldiers - and we civilians who see the injustice for what it is - to speak out and do something about it.

We loaded back on to the bus, and rehashed it all together a bit, but mostly looked out the windows and thought about all that we'd experienced. What a day ... and we only VISITED, we don't have to LIVE the nightmare of this war, every day for always.

After a quick breather, it was time to head to the Amnesty International Annual Meeting, where Tom was going to present awards to some members out there fighting for human rights and justice. We couldn't get the Walter Reed guys out of our heads, so sat around backstage sharing it all with some AI folks. That's a start ... the more we talk about it, the more people know about it. That betters the chances to get people involved in DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Tom gave a lovely speech for the Amnesty people, telling them about what the Justice Tour is all about, and how activism and music can work together to DEMAND Justice, especially when working in harmony with all the fantastic organizations we've been learning about so far on this amazing, adventurous, eye-opening tour.

After the meeting, Tom split off to meet up with Dave and Breckin at the CUBS/Nationals game. I needed a break, and some time to reflect, so I went back to Georgetown to get some dinner with Paul, Carlos the Tour Manager and Deyden and Jamie, our lovely charity organizers. We all needed a drink (or three) after the heavy metal drama of the day. We got those, which somehow gave us a second wind.

Paul had never been to D.C., so I told him he at least had to see the Lincoln Memorial and the steps where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his historical speech before we left early the next morning. As we paid the cab driver and crossed the street to walk up the Memorial, my phone beeped. It was Tom, asking how the bar was, but saying, "We're at the steps where MLK gave his 'I have a dream speech'". I looked up the steps, and there they were ... we'd all had the same idea at the same time in the middle of the night! I think after the disgust and disgrace of seeing what our government has inflicted on its own people (and a country that never did anything to us) in this immoral and criminal war, we all needed to remind ourselves of what we are SUPPOSED to be, for ourselves and for the world. Abe had it right, Martin had it right ... and they were both killed for it. It is up to us to carry on those ideals, and that great dream. I have tears again now at how far astray we've gone, and can only pray that we can find our way back, and right our wrongs. We looked out at the Washington Monument from the very spot where MLK's speech was given, and I know that in each of our hearts, we felt the need to honor that flag that flies over our nation's capital, and never stop fighting for Justice.

44.

Do you remember how you felt on this day last year? This HISTORICAL day?! I do. But it can be easy to forget the absolute JUBILATION of that momentous day ... especially if you listen to the way the media does its daily spin. Two states win Gubernatorial elections yesterday for Republicans, and suddenly the country is rebuking President Obama. Last night we watched the remarkable new HBO documentary, By The People: The Election Of Barack Obama. All the flooding emotions roared back ... the angst of the campaign, the chin up despite the nay-sayers (I was on board from the BEGINNING. I have emails from Obama's Illinois Senate Office before he ever decided to run. I BELIEVED.), the drama, the anger, the fun, the HOPE, and finally, the TRIUMPH! Man. What an epic day. For ALL time.

There are some who want to bag on our wonderful 44th President, (Honestly. The positive difference between him and our last joker/War Criminal is so stark it's alarming. And laughable that there are people that have the nerve to complain one iota about the elegant man who is 44.) for not having done enough yet, or to their personal liking ("We do not see things as they are, we seem them as we are." - Anais Nin), or they are afraid, or straight out racist. What they fail to realize is how FAR we've come around the world in the one year since the election. Rather, how far we as a Nation came OVERNIGHT from the election. The world-wide celebration, hope and support for our new President and we citizens exploded in a burst of heart-felt JOY, that is still being felt today, if you open your ears beyond the network news. And that IS a feat deserving of a Nobel Peace Prize ... certainly if you traveled or listened to anyone from anywhere else during the last reign of - literally - terror. We are a NEW nation, from November 4, 2008 ... and for always. Remember - and CELEBRATE - that fact. And join together to help our President not only clean up our huge messes, but better us as a Country, and as a People.

So ... to help you conjure up those elated memories ... I share my piece from the day after last year's election with you now:
"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

We are, and always will be, the United States of America."

That was how PRESIDENT ELECT BARACK OBAMA (!!!) began his historical victory speech last night ... and that is how I too shall begin, as I DID have my doubts and my fears, but I also had my hopes and my dreams - and last night, November 4th, 2008, Hope beat Fear.

It's been four long years since Barack Obama burst into my life, when I heard him speak at the 2004 Democratic Convention. I have not wavered an instant since then in thinking (and being pretty vocal about), "THAT is who I want as my President". Twenty four hours ago, it finally happened ... and I'm still an elated, happily crying mess of joy.

I am only one of 63+ Million American voters who made this day happen. There are as many inspiring stories, and am proud to have my own to share when I'm an old woman looking back on this monumental day.

After being SO inspired by hearing Senator Obama speak at the '04 Convention, I looked him up online. I donated a couple of bucks, as a thank you for giving me chills. (I still have the 2005 email response, thanking ME!) I read his books, growing more impressed. I started talking to my friends and relatives about this guy from Illinois, who talked about America like I remembered THINKING about America as a kid, but had lost in the last very dark eight years. I knew (or was told) that it was probably "too soon" for him to run, but I've always had big dreams. I kept hoping.

Buzz grew, speculation whirled ... and then early in 2007, Obama announced his candidacy for President. I was on board immediately. Interestingly, my thoughts and feelings are still pretty far to the left of Obama's ... but it didn't matter so much, because underneath it all was and is my desire for the States of America to truly be UNITED - and I saw this unique man as interested in that unity above all else.

So began the blog writing, the emails to friends who'd never heard of the guy (and probably weren't that interested at the time), the squeezing into rallies, the phone banking (and getting hung up on), the donating every chance I could, and the constant chatter, trying to get people to listen. It was interesting and challenging, trying to get people involved, when while most of my friends think along the same lines as myself, many are more radical and don't trust any politician. Or they liked Hillary. Or they didn't think Obama had a chance.

I was scoffed at - "Yeah, good luck with that, Carol. America isn't ready for a Black President". I was told that my letters of support for Obama were "Hate Mail" by an old friend. I traveled abroad and had to defend my hopes for a new America to people that had given up on us, and really now saw us (the Government, not the people, I hoped) as the Evil Empire. As I was beginning to myself.

But then it caught on. Volunteer meetings ran out of chairs. People stood for HOURS to get into rallies. People stopped hanging up, and instead volunteered their OWN time. Obama's fundraising went through the roof. Everyone started PAYING ATTENTION! Feeling the same HOPE that I felt.

And then the Iowa Caucuses happened last January. I vividly remember sitting in the car, listening to NPR, fascinated at the process, needing to go inside to a dinner, but unable to tear my ears from the radio. When the news came that Iowa, among the whitest of states, gave their voices - loudly and proudly - to Barack Obama, and gave him his first victory of the Primary Season, I put my head on the steering wheel and cried. Happy, hopeful, anything is now possible tears of joy!

Iowa opened the flood gates, and started the bandwagon. Songs were written, art was made, shirts were worn, and a strong coalition of hope and possibility was formed. It became more a movement than a campaign. EVERYONE felt the darkness of the past eight years, and we all shared the same desire to move in a positive direction. That is, everyone but the opposing factions, who did everything in their power to squash the momentum, to no lasting effect. Sometimes I think things had to get so bad in this country in order for us to wake up and finally come together to DO SOMETHING about it. It's very Star Wars, when you think about it.

It's been a long, LOOOOONG journey since then, full of emotional ups and downs, scandals and wretched tactics from Obama's opponents - but he never wavered in his grace, wisdom and calm. Because of that, neither did we.

The work intensified, making MORE phone calls, talking about it more in everyday life, writing about it constantly, traveling to former Red State Nevada (which WE WON!) to knock on doors, and making more phone calls. Honestly, the "Community Organizing" which was mocked by Republicans, is exactly what did them in. That, and a transcendent candidate named Barack Hussein Obama, whom we truly believed in.

Yesterday dawned (not that I slept) sunny, the most beautiful day possible, and I took that as a good omen, though the knot in my stomach told me not to trust it. I had a text message from a friend/neighbor before 7 a.m. that our polling place had a line of 250+ waiting to vote. That news prompted my first sob of the day ... surely all those people weren't waiting in lines like that to vote Republican again?! I turned on the morning news and saw that those lines were happening all across the country ... It was happening! People were using their voices!

But as a friend pointed out, "we've been bitch-slapped the past two elections", so I held down my growing excitement, terrified of being ruined again. In all frankness, I think I've been in somewhat of a depression ever since Kerry lost to Bush. Not that I held any of the same high hopes in that election, but just that anyone could POSSIBLY have voted in that other direction TWICE. I think the whole planet may have shared in that depression - unless they were profiting from the war and terrible economy in some way.

When it was my turn to get in line, my excitement grew. I couldn't stop talking to strangers in line about what a great day it was (my brother Paul said, "I think you might be electioneering"), and they all agreed. When it was time to punch the hole for Obama/Biden - I had more tears. When I walked out with my "I Voted" sticker on, the whole long line smiled. I allowed myself the tiniest glimmer of hope - again.

I ran from phone calls to computer screens to MSNBC and back around - all day. One pundit would boost you up, only to have another give you a gut punch. This went on all day long. I couldn't eat. I paced. My friend and fellow long-time Obama supporter, Jenny said, "Here, take a chill" - and handed me a glass of champagne to calm the nerves. (It didn't work, but it was delightful).

Finally, having passed up the big parties around town to focus (and rock back and forth) in relative calm, it was time to gather around the television and await the returns. I wondered if my drinking champagne was a premature curse. I hoped that my taking the garbage out that morning symbolically meant the Washington trash was about to get thrown out (everything had much deeper - and possibly sillier - meaning yesterday). Still ... I dared to hope.

It started to look good .. but then Chuck Todd said that it was the original projected map, and no surprises had happened yet, so people should "cool their heels, it could be a long night". UGH! You started to see people arriving in Chicago's Grant Park - nothing but smiling faces of all colors and ages - rushing to get a good spot. Obama would take one state, but then McCain would take another. Then they called Pennsylvania for Obama, and I choked up again - no McCain upset - hope! Then a bunch more, and then - Minnesota, my home state - WON! I danced and hugged and another cork popped. But nothing could be taken for granted until the last polls closed on the West Coast - where we were. Sitting on the very edge of my seat, I watched as the time clock clicked down the seconds to our 8 p.m. poll closing. I was aware of nothing else around me but that clock.

When it hit 8:00, I heard nothing. I just looked at the state percentages, saw California go for Obama, then it switched to say "United States" and the percentage, and then the word PRESIDENT under Obama's name. I literally fell to my knees, then leaped up into a World Series worthy huddle of victory, friendship, relief and pure, unadulterated JOY! Tears streamed down my cheeks and I cried like you did as a kid, shaking and quivering ... SCREAMING! WE DID IT! In lulls while we took breaths, you could hear the same happening in pockets all around outside. VICTORY! DING DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD!!! AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL! WOW!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!! AMAZING GRACE!!

We calmed down long enough to watch the incredible scene unfold in Chicago. A crazy wind whipped up suddenly outside (it was seriously crazy, making it very hard not to make "Winds Of Change" jokes, or think of the ghosts who we hoped would somehow be able to see this wondrous event) as we heard Obama give the victory speech that not only inspired us, but also called us to action. Because this is just the beginning, people. We have WORK to do. We have had great, great damage inflicted on us as a people, and as a nation, (and inflicted it upon many other people and nations, I'd regretfully add) and change is not going to happen overnight. We know this. We accept this. We SHALL overcome! So just for today, let's get back to the celebration!

We had sent out the word to all friends to meet in the parking lot of The Brig, a local bar, to join us on a victory bike ride. People we didn't even know were there waiting with our friends, as we rode up around the corner, screaming and ringing our bells. EVERY car that drove by was honking, with people hanging out the windows screaming. As our large group took over the street with our bikes, blue star balloons streaming behind us, EVERYONE we passed screamed along with us. I've never ever seen anything like it, and tears streamed down my cheeks to meet my gigantic smile. I hadn't felt that pride of country in a long time, maybe since I was a tiny kid at the Bicentennial ... or maybe the Miracle On Ice ... and so it made perfect sense that we celebrated like kids last night.

YES WE DID! YES WE DID! YES WE DID! YES WE DID!!!

After that, it's all a blur of happy mayhem. But when I woke up today, it was not a dream, rather, it was the FULFILLMENT of a dream! The headlines shouted triumphantly, and photos of people celebrating around the world nearly brought me to my knees again. It made me feel almost exactly as profound as 9/11, only in the exact opposite way - ELATED, as opposed to devastated. The whole world rallied around us again ... this time in joyful celebration! I can barely see through my now-welling-again eyes to type further, as I've wanted so, so badly to feel this way again about my beloved country, and now I, WE, can.

I think today of Madelyn Dunham, Barack Obama's Grandmother, who died ONE day before her Grandson became President. I think of Obama's parents, who never lived to know of their son's transformation of a nation. I think of Martin Luther King, Jr, who died so that yesterday we DID judge a man not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. I think of Bob Marley, who sang "Get Up, Stand Up" ... which we DID yesterday, to join together and CREATE CHANGE and say NO MORE! But most importantly, I think of all of us. We who are still here, who created and saw this wonderful day happen in history, but who can now also be here to back it all up in the days and years ahead.

One day, one party, one man ... can do NOTHING to change the world beyond the initial celebration. We must now ALL come together to live up to our best ideals, and really, to save the world. Things would have been drastically, ruinously, different had things gone the other way last night ... and I think we all know that. No matter who you voted for, there is no way you can be against the outpouring of joy and unity that happened last night in The United States of America, and around the globe. This is our time to lead again, by GOOD example. To truly live UNITED, as one people, and one nation ... we cannot forget that THAT is why we were founded as a New World, not to be split down the middle by things that really don't matter so much in the end. Taxes, abortion, etc .. those things that divide us aren't the things that made us great. It was the idea of a true Democracy, and that all people are created equal. What made me cry and shout in triumph last night wasn't that my guy won ... it was that we as a people SHOWED that our Democracy DOES work, that we ARE all created equal, and that America really IS beautiful. That out of many, we are truly one.

Last spring I stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in the exact spot where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I Have A Dream" speech, after a day spent at the Walter Reed War Veterans Hospital, and choked up to think of how far we had gone astray since Lincoln's day, and thought we had maybe failed for good. Next January, a million people will again fill that same space, and know that they helped make a national dream come true.

Let us continue that line of work, dream-making. Let's give all kids the dream of college. All families the dream of affordable/free health care. All workers the dream of jobs. All economies the dream of thriving. All eco-systems the dream of surviving. All nations the dream of peace.

Why not dream? Last night, we as a WORLD, learned that anything is possible.