Long Time no Write

I'm still wearing the brace on my ankle and not singing with Occupella.

On the other hand, I auditioned for a new play, called "Mad Love" that's supposed to open in less than a month, even though the script isn't final yet. At three rehearsals per week, though, progress should be rapid. On the third hand, I'll be missing several rehearsals starting a week from now, so I really hope the script is final before I leave for ten days.

Jan and I are booked on an Olivia cruise of Alaska that leaves from Vancouver on the 16th of this month. I just printed out my boarding pass and luggage tags, and am starting to compile a mental packing list.

I went on a Caribbean cruise with my grandparents when I was eight or so, and had a wonderful time, so I have hopes for this cruise, after I get over my usual "leaving my nest" anxiety. And we have booked excursions at each landfall, plus some indulgences aboard ship. I'm a touch worried about seasickness; I was fine on the cruise a half century ago, but have become much more sensitive to motion since then. But I plan to bring three different seasickness remedies, so that should be covered.

In the meantime, I have been participating in phone banking as part of PICO California's push to support Proposition 30 - a revenue-raising measure that's a combination of the governor's proposal and the Millionaire's Tax. Cold-calling people is one of my least favorite things to do, but at least we're not asking them for money. I even managed to rope Jan into joining me for a session last night. She's a natural.

If you live in California, please vote yes on Prop. 30. The money will go to K-12 and higher education, and local police and fire services, and will prevent even deeper cuts than we've already experienced in these services. 90% of the revenue will come from raising state income taxes on people earning more than $250,000 a year, and the rest from nudging up the state sales tax by a quarter of a percent. State coffers are bare, so we only get what we pay for.

And of course, if you live anywhere in America, please be sure to re-elect President Obama. Romney would undo the policies that are healing our economy. The GOP seeks to restore the 'winnner take all,' 'I've got mine; you're on your own,' 'women and children last' policies that nearly crashed the economy and would return women to the status of child-bearing machines. Heaven forfend!

May Thoughts

It's a sunny and windy day in the village, and my cherry tree in the back yard is waving in the wind and raining pink petals.

Now that my torn tendon is on the mend, I'm planning to do more singing with Occupella; it's been too long.

I tried last month to get into the Wells Fargo shareholder meeting, having bought a single share for that purpose. The day before the meeting, I attended three hours of activism training along with 150 other single shareholder/activists. However, the suits were on to us from the start. The building was ringed with police and suits from the crack of dawn, and the gatekeepers kept lying to us about when and where they would let us into the meeting. Only about 20 lucky souls got in and said their piece. Standing around and sitting around in a large crowd of protesters for several hours made me tired and sore, and upset. So I forgot all about the support group meeting that I could have attended, and went directly home.

Jan and I have tickets for two concerts by members of the SF Symphony playing all six of Bach's Brandenburg Concerti this coming Saturday. Should be quite lovely.

Rainy Saturday

So I've started PT for my ankle, and the cold is pretty much gone, but now it's raining out and I'm afraid of a relapse if I go outside and get wet and cold. And I've gotten really, really lazy.

Listened to NPR for a couple of hours this morning, catching "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" live for the first time in a very long time. I usually catch it as a podcast, via my ipod or Kindle Fire. This news quiz is my favorite radio show, and I was pleased to have gotten many of the answers correct.

I caught my cat Einstein in a particularly cute pose today. He enjoys lying on the window sill in the living room, above the baseboard heater, so he gets the benefit of both the rising heat and the view of the street. I keep the blinds closed for privacy, and they hang in front of the sill. Today, his left rear paw hung off the edge of the sill, below the bottom of the blinds. It was the only visible part of his body. His foot is mostly white (he's a gray tabby), and looked rather like a rabbit's foot. It's certainly every bit as soft as a rabbit's foot. And I feel lucky to have him.

The other day I thought I saw him in the back yard, but when I turned around, there he was in the living room - at the same time. The cat in the yard had the same colors in his coat, the same white front and points, and the same black stripes on its tail. It didn't seem to be wearing a collar, and seemed a bit bigger than Einstein, but otherwise looked just like him. And s/he seemed very at home in my yard, so I suspect this is not the first time s/he has visited. Perhaps he has a close relative nearby ...

Anyway, that's all I can think of right now. Stay dry.

No News Might be Bad News

So, after  I'd been singing with Occupella for a month or so, I got around to seeing a new podiatrist for an injury to my ankle that I believe occurred when I misstepped on a pothole back in October. The highly rated new doctor took an ultrasound image and slapped me in a walking cast, finding that I'd torn a tendon. Thankfully, it was only frayed, not torn clear through, so no surgery was needed, but I stayed in that cast, and mostly off my feet, for six weeks.

I've graduated to wearing a brace and am supposed to begin physical therapy, but now I've got a lovely cold/laryngitis thing that has turned me from a soprano to a bass-baritone. They don't want my germs at the PT office, and I don't blame them any. So now I'm resting my voice as well as my ankle, except for a single balancing-on-one-foot exercise that the doctor told me to do.

Which all explains why I haven't posted recently. My life's been pretty quiet.

Occupella and Me

Leslie Hassberg, who invited me to participate in the human banner on Ocean Beach (Tax the 1%), more recently sent me an e-mail about a group of singers called Occupella that she co-founded. Occupella sings at protests and BART stations in the  spirit of Occupy Wall Street. That sounded like major fun to me, so I started attending three weeks ago. My main concern was that I might not know the tunes they'd be using, but it turned out that I already knew most of them, and the others weren't too hard to pick up. And now that I have ink for my printer, I have my own songbook of the words.

It's great fun, singing out my anger at the banks and profit-driven inhumanity in general, and finding harmonies that will blend with whatever chord the guitarist has chosen. Members of the public and members of the group often take video of us, including a BART policewoman the other week. Lots of folks give us a thumbs up in passing or simply join in. It's a very uplifting occupation.

We were asked to act out the words to one song by Leslie, about self-serving falsehoods the elite use to keep the rest of us quiescent, and how they make excellent manure for our gardens. That was a lot of fun, and drew me a compliment from another woman in the group. And I always enjoy singing Nancy Schimmel's version of her mother's Little Boxes that's about tax shelters in the Caymans.

I was planning to sing with them last Friday, in a daylong protest of Citizens United, but it was raining and unpleasant, and I went back to sleep  until long after the protest had concluded. Oh well.

I recently acquired some colorful signs about taxing the rich (thanks, Terry), and need to figure out a way to put them on some kind of easel or pole. I'm thinking about the collapsing cane that I bought in Hawaii when my knee was acting up.

Make Banks Pay

Jan and I marched with the Occupy SF folks on national Bank Transfer Day, to chide the big banks for: (1) gambling with our money, (2) making overpriced loans to people who couldn't afford them, (3) not lending to small businesses that need it, (4) not renegotiating underwater mortgages (or renegotiating VERY SLOWLY while also foreclosing), and (5) leaving foreclosed homes vacant to become blights on the neighborhood. The marchers also encouraged each other to move our own money away from the big banks and into local community banks or credit unions.

I had been looking into credit unions off and on for some time, and the handout listing good local CUs was the final motivation I needed. I headed out the the SF Fire Credit Union within the week to open a new checking account, and closed my Wells Fargo account as soon as I got the new checks and ATM card. And then I got an SF Fire credit card and have just closed the most annoying of my big bank cards.

This divestment activity is all around me. I attended a hearing of the SF Board of Supervisors on whether to create a local bank of our own or how otherwise to make sure our money is being used wisely and locally. And the board of SFOP and my synagogue have both decided to move their funds to credit unions.

Credit unions are non-profit organizations that are owned by their depositor/members. I hear that local community banks are also good guys, and the state bank of North Dakota seems like a really good idea.

Unless you have a batch of stock in one of the big banks, I'd advise you to move any money you have in one to some place where it won't line the pockets of corporate executives.

My Personal God Language

So we had another meeting of the machzor class, and we were asked to write a bit on our concept of God, and how it agrees or disagrees with the liturgical language. Here's what I wrote:

You are Great and unknowable, Builder of galaxies and Small Voice of conscience, and I don't know whether to kneel before You, sing a song of praise, or curl up in Your lap. Part of me is awed and unable to say anything to You, and part of me wants to cling to Your fur like a baby koala. The God I thank for each new day is both big and loving, majestic and maternal.