My tweets

• Tue, 17:50: Ripping Tom Lehrer Revisited.
• Tue, 17:52: Been trying to buy an ipod classic 30G for ~ $50 on eBay. Keep getting outbid in the final seconds. OK, walk away when limit is reached.
• Tue, 17:53: RT @ScienceCalendar: June 15, 1752-Benjamin Franklin performed his famous kite experiment, proving that lightning is a form of electricity.
• Tue, 23:36: Ripping Gordon Lightfoot, which is redundant. Saw him in concert once, he was ripped then too.
• Wed, 08:50: Ripping Reba. Tolerate the sloppy country style for the tunes and lyrics. I could cover half her songs.
• Wed, 09:54: Would you lie for me? Is that the truth?
• Wed, 09:55: Meatloaf in the CD drive, and I'm all out of ketchup.
• Wed, 10:44: Ass burgers. Did I mis-hear the name of a medical condition?

Flag Day

Cross-posted from FB:

I meant to write this yesterday, but was busy having an optimismectomy and am just now recovering enough to nostalgiacise.

I have never been patriotic. One of the things about being in Boy Scouts which annoyed me was their rampant American flag-waving, especially i the light of the fact that the organization's founding was as American as the Tower of London.

The junior high I went to banned books by Communist authors. They were sued, and did not lose the case until it went to the US Supreme Court. Today's court would have voted the other way, I think. Anyway, not something to be proud of America about.

In college I protested the Vietnam War, helped occupy the campus radio station (which was the town's PBS station) and turn it into a 24 hour news station reporting on the protests, which the main media had blacked out.

When Nixon was re-elected despite plenty of pre-election publicity about Watergate, I applied for a VISTA job in Alaska to get as far away from mainstream American politics as possible. I was completely disgusted. VISTA did not get my application, the Peace Corps hijacked it, and 18 months later offered me a volunteer slot as an A/V technologist/photographer in Thailand, which I accepted. That was March 1975, and America was still a mess, but at least the US involvement in the war was over, VP Spiro Agnew and Nixon had both resigned in disgrace  and Ford was treading water in the White House.

My second year in Thailand was on a Southern Thai research campus in a rubber tree plantation. I was the only American there. The posting took me all over the south, mostly to provincial fairs and ag research stations. I was almost fluent in Thai, and most of my friends were Thai.

Another volunteer from my group had transferred to the nearby college, fell in love with his boss, and they invited me to their wedding at the American consulate in Songkhla, the provincial capitol. I took a bus there, the stop was on the other side of a rise. As I walked up over the rise and saw the huge American flag flying over the consulate, it made me feel good. Almost like I was coming home.

Graduation

susandennis's recent entry reminded me of this. I have memories of my high school graduation, and my next youngest sister's too. But mostly college. At the University of Washington, I played in the Wind Sinfonietta, which became the Commencement Orchestra for one day in June. Had I not been in the orchestra, I would have gone to graduation to see my father pick up his second master's degree, this one in Economics, and pretended I was not graduating.

I did not get a cap and gown. My plan, along with about six other seniors in the orchestra, was to play the music, listen to the speeches, and go home. And maybe get a handshake from Prof. Walter Welke, the conductor and one of the best people to be part of my life, ever.

We took our seats in the orchestra, on the stage, behind the podium. We warmed up. We tuned up. Prof. Welke points to each graduating member one by one, and tells us to stand up. He reaches down into a box at his side, and throws each of us a gown, and then a cap, and calls for a round of applause from our fellow musicians.

That was sweet, and since it was Prof. Welke, I was only a tiny bit miffed to have my cover broken.

We played music. 5,000 people came up on stage to get a diploma and a handshake from Gov. Dan Evans. I had met the governor several times while covering the state capitol for journalism classes, and liked him. Cool guy, a civil engineer, not a lawyer politico.

After the long procession was over, we settled back to listen to Gov. Evans speak. Instead, he turned around 180°, smiled at us, and gave us our diplomas individually, announcing our names into the mike.

Then he gave his speech.