38th & Chicago - A Sacred Space For One Human Family

Yesterday was the anniversary of the day we lost my Dad to awful cancer when I was four. It is always a sad day for us, but was especially so this year, because the world itself is so sad, but also because I'm currently in our childhood home taking care of my Mom and older brother, and we found three big boxes of love letters to my Mom from my Dad that she just blazed through, so she's missing him extra this year. She raised myself and my two brothers all by herself since then, and we have first hand knowledge of how hard that was, and what George Floyd's children now have to feel for the rest of their lives. Mom has been watching it all on the news due to the pandemic, but really wanted to see it for herself. We thought a good way to honor both my Dad and Mr. Floyd would be to visit the memorial scene at the now sacred ground at 38th and Chicago in South Minneapolis. We took all the precautions we could, and off we went. And I'm SO glad we did.

It feels a bit like a street fair as you approach the intersection of the site where Floyd was murdered by Minneapolis Police just over a week ago. The whole world has exploded in outrage over it, and this corner of our city will never be the same - nor should it be. THIS time simply must be different. And LASTING. The entire planet is together in this uprising, going through the five stages of grief in different time zones around the globe like we're doing The Wave. I think Minneapolis is now in organizing mode, possibly depression ... with acceptance looming up ahead. But we need to go further in our grief ... to be BETTER, not just accepting.

Parents were there with children. I was there with my Mom in a wheelchair. Elderly people were heading that direction with walkers. Literally every walk of life was there to pay their respects, see it for themselves, and to show their solidarity in this struggle for systemic JUSTICE over systemic MURDER. It is so powerful to see.

Helpers remain everywhere, and this intersection was full of them. Booths were set up to distribute prepared food for everyone there, all for free. We had some delicious empanadas because the darling women would not take no for an answer, and about a hundred people were asking if anyone was hungry or thirsty, and then making sure that they weren't.

There was also an area to distribute food boxes, fresh produce and canned goods, gallons of milk, diapers and cleaning products ... anything that anyone needed due to their area's stores being boarded up or destroyed was there and free of charge, thanks to all of the wonderful volunteers and donations. Minnesota will have your back.

Seeing the actual stretch of sidewalk where Floyd had the life choked out of him by a man paid to serve and protect all of us is SUPER emotional. I had already been there, but it hit my sweet Mom very hard. Especially because of the significance of the date for our family. She was openly crying, and I think that was good for everyone to see. That a little elderly Scandinavian white woman in a wheelchair cared enough to be there to show her support, even in a pandemic. People could not have been sweeter, creating wide paths for us to traverse through the crowd, and saying that they appreciated her being there. I hope so much that the people who have been SO judgemental about the very necessary protests will find it in their hearts to visit this place for themselves, to gain a little bit of understanding of the situation, and dig deep to find where the empathy lives inside of themselves. It will change your perspective, and it will make you a better person for being there. Of that I have no doubt.

An older Black man was playing his guitar, when a teenaged looking white boy came along with his own guitar to join him in a jam. It was just one of the many displays of unity and one love that touched my heart while we were there, but then every single thing fully squeezed my heart, both in sadness, anger, and full on inspiration that through all of this we will have created a much better future.

I've had people who know me and how deeply I care and feel about this situation literally defending the driver of the semi that barreled through our peaceful protest on Sunday before even asking how I was. The same people who know that Minnesotans stop on a dime for a duck, thinking that a professional driver of a gas tanker somehow couldn't get it together to hit his brakes for thousands of people up ahead? I mean, c'mon. No charges for him, either. I got a speeding ticket for being 10 miles over limit ten feet away from the sign saying the speed I was going, but this guy doesn't get even a citation for nearly killing scores of innocent and peaceful protesters. Give me a fucking break. And if language bothers you more than murder of innocent, unarmed, handcuffed people, go look in the mirror and ask yourself what is wrong with you ... and why. Then please work on that, for the sake of us all. Growth is crucial to a well-lived life. I'm ultra-done arguing with anyone who still doesn't get it. Going forward, I'm really only interested in how people are helping this cause, and if you're not helping, it's time for another trip to the mirror to search yourself for why not. Opportunities to help are vast, from in-home phone calling and emailing and donating for change, to out on the streets, cleaning, feeding, marching, showing your face in support. There is something for everyone to do, and zero excuse not to. Thank you in advance!

It absolutely baffles me how hard it is for some people to grasp this global situation, and how it has been brewing for centuries. How this upheaval should have happened a long time ago, and how vigils and voting historically hasn't done much. Nearly all positive change in this country has come from civil unrest, and if you don't know that, I don't know how to help you. What I DO know is that history will look back on this time in our country, and I know that I'll be on the beautiful, right side of it. Will you? Minneapolis people don't get to claim Prince or Lizzo, and then NOT stand up for Black Lives Matter. You just don't. You also don't get to tell your grandkids that you had anything to do with changing the world, because you didn't - unless you get out and get involved NOW. You are needed. It will take every one of us to right the wrongs that have plagued this country since even before it officially was one. Let's together say enough is enough. Please.

Anyway, I digressed for a moment, and want to return the focus to what a completely beautiful and inspiring place it is to be at 38th and Chicago. Music played, people danced, people consoled, and strangers told each other that they loved them. Despite the horror that occurred exactly here on May 25th ... Memorial Day ... this will now forever be a place that is ALWAYS Memorial Day ... sacred and beautiful, because this is where maybe - just maybe - true civil rights began. There will most likely be a museum here. Don't be late to the party.

By the time we went back to our car, Mom's tears had turned from despondently sad to positively hopeful. That through these times we can see the light up ahead ... for everyone. And for good. She was so glad she went. I was so glad she went. I can hear her on the phone telling her friend about it now, and it makes me even more proud to call her my Mom. I didn't get to know my Dad nearly as well, but he was a member of the National Guard, and I'd like to think he would have stuck up for me out there. I'm so sorry to George Floyd's that they won't get to have their Dad anymore either, but I hope they know how much his life has now meant to all of us. A true and lasting legacy to be proud of forever, around the world.  I don't want my Dad to be forgotten either, so here's a shot of him in his grooviest prime.

One Human Family, I love you all, and I will work for and speak out for you and what's right as long as I'm lucky to be breathing. To the ones who are somehow not on board with this sentiment, I'll hope that you will educate yourselves and find your empathy soon, because your world depends on it too. ONE LOVE.

*A small victory: All four murdering officers have now been charged. Our actions are doing something. Not nearly enough, but this is something. On to the permanent end to systemic murder, violence, and gross inequality to people of color by this society. EVERYONE has had enough.

Help The Helpers!

So ... yesterday, like a mere hour after I posted my Help Yourself story about the lovely person putting food out for our people living on the streets, I randomly met the lovely woman walking down Lincoln. "Momma Eileen", a Venice elder and longtime resident, stopped me on the street as she recognized me from social media postings. She had no idea I had just posted about her humanitarian efforts, and when we got to talking (after she hugged me close knowing what I've been dealing with in regards to my Mom's hospitalization), I figured out that she was the benevolent party telling people to "Help yourself!" She was upset. Neighbors had complained, and asked her to put away her food. WHAT?!

In the food's place, there is now a new chalk message, apologizing to our homeless, and urging them to seek help at St. Joseph's. Her jerk neighbors (Developers, of course) complained that the food would attract rats - which to them I assume means human beings that need food. All of the food was in sealed packages, aside from fruit that grows in nearly every Venice yard - that rodents already know about. If it's in a tree or on a fence makes no difference. The only difference here is in the size of the hearts in the parties we're talking about.

I'm seething mad about this, and in that kind of mood where no one should get in your way because you can't take much more. What is WRONG with people, that they would complain about someone helping others? Momma Eileen was even concerned with backlash, and that these heartless wretches would target her in some way if she didn't comply with their complaints to take the food away. Let them try. Not on my watch. The good news is that she gets to keep being her wonderful self, while those fools have to live with their rotten souls, not to mention their karma.

It's time to vote out any and all parties from the Developer/Nimby camps in the upcoming Venice Neighborhood Council elections. It's time to take a moment to examine your own biases and agendas, and come to the realization that we're all in this together, and cruelty gets no one anywhere. It's time to look out for each other, and reclaim our beautiful - and strong - Community for the creative, humanitarian, artistic vortex bubble we've always been proud to be a part of. It's time to join people like Momma Eileen in sharing what we have, no matter what some dickhead neighbor says. If EVERYONE joins in on efforts like hers, the few remaining selfish parties' complaints will cease to matter, because they will be look like the petty, lost souls that they are.

Help the Helpers ... before it's too late (and by that I mean a brewing class war that no one wants, and that no one can win). Thank you, THANK YOU to people like Momma Eileen for trying to make the world a better place every day. I have your backs, and celebrate your very existence.

California Fires - A Community In Action

The absolutely horrible wildfires in California over the weekend (and still not fully contained) were shocking. I've never seen actual flames from the beach here in Venice, but I did on Friday night. And it was scary. There wasn't even a chance to fully process the mass shooting in Thousand Oaks on Thursday, before that same community needed to be evacuated for the fires. Beautiful Malibu was going up in flames, and we could SEE it. It was a really heavy week.

There was a Movie Night at Muscle Beach on Friday night, also the first time that has happened, that I know of. They were screening the wonderful surf documentary, Hawai'ian: The Legend Of Eddie Aikau, and I never thought I'd be nearly out loud sobbing while sitting at Muscle Beach - but there I was. A good little group turned out to get their minds off of everythig, though we were all distracted by the encroaching flames on the horizon to the north. Every now and then, the streaming would falter and the movie would stall, so we'd go look at the flames until it came back on. (Thanks, Lance!)

We weren't looking at just the glow from the flames, but actual FIRE. When the movie was over, and the much needed drink at James Beach was gulped down, we went up to the rooftop across the street. The words being used were "Surreal". "Apocalyptic". "War zone". "Hell". And yes, "Climate Change". Danny Samakow and I were getting emotional about it, mainly because you felt so helpless to help. I don't think anyone slept well that night.

Saturday morning the whole town woke up to thick smoke and the smell of wood burning. You could look directly at the sun, as it was so obscured by smoke you could barely make out the orange ball of fire within it. Fires make for gorgeous sunsets, but this one was heavy with so much loss. Then the beautiful part of it all began to happen ... the Community jumped into action. All social media feeds were full of offers of places to stay (um, does that only count for fire victims?), places to donate necessities for the people who have lost everything, citizen firefighters fought alongside the official ones (and all of the inmates making like $2 a day to save others!), and the outpouring of help and love continues to this moment. The expected Santa Ana winds mercifully did not yet arrive, and that gives a fighting chance to putting this entirely out before they do show up. We hope.

People around the country (and world) have sent messages of love and thoughts and support, with even the Empire State Building turning blue and gold in a symbol of solidarity. That's one thing that has always been - and remains - great about this country. When something goes really bad, everyone bands together to help. That's when you realize that we really are all in it together. Climate change, especially, but all of it. Voting, shootings, failing infrastructure, natural disasters - it affects us all. Times like these really spotlight the Power of the People - because as we heard over the weekend, our leadership is both clueless and useless. So, thank you to everyone who shows up to help. The everyday heroes. It reminds me of the story Mr. Rogers would tell:

“My mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of disaster, I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers — so many caring people in this world.”

Today I think we can all also find comfort by realizing that there are STILL so many helpers. Thank you.