Monday, February 23, 2009

A Reminiscence of Redwings

Red-winged blackbirds are sitting high in the tops of the trees in our 1940s-built suburban neighborhood. Their trills cascade through the air like waterfalls, and I remember why the red-winged blackbird is one of my favorite birds. I love the territorial song of the males in spring, what's called the "okalee" song, when it's combined with the other songs of the species. The combined chorus is beautiful to me.

When I hear red-winged blackbirds, memories rush in as well as feelings associated with those memories. Where I grew up near the Texas Gulf coast, red-winged blackbirds descended in huge flocks on the flat birdfeeder (a wooden post with a metal cookie sheet nailed on top) that my father placed in our front yard. As a child, I loved gazing out into the cold from the warmth of our space-heater-warmed house. Huge flocks of blackbirds would wing across the sky and settle into the rice fields that once dominated the Gulf Coast landscape in Chambers County, Texas. The sky would be black with birds. Now those rice fields are covered with McMansions, suburbia, or acres of invasive flora such as Chinese tallow trees.

Later, as an adult with a young family, I moved to northern Minnesota, where red-winged blackbirds nested in the spring and summer. I loved seeing red-wings perch on tall grasses in the bogs and mosses of north-central Minnesota. The birds' presence reminded me that although I was far away from my place of birth, the natural world spanned that physical distance, closing the gap between home and heart.

The birds also remind me of the sugar cane fields of Louisiana. My best friend and her husband lived for years in a house on the edge of sugar cane fields, on the west bank of the Mississippi River near Baton Rouge. Many times I sat in my friend's pecan-tree and oak-tree shaded yard listening to the songs of blackbirds rise up like smoky memories from the alluvial soil of those fertile fields.

But those red-wings remind me of far more than the natural world. They remind me of a man whom I loved more than words can express, my maternal grandfather, Leonard Everett Benton. Papa Benton was a Texas cowboy. His schooling didn't go past the eighth grade, and he made a living over his lifetime by working in the oil fields and for Humble Oil, raising cattle, breaking horses, and, in his old age, working for Liberty County doing odd jobs such as mowing roadsides. One of my favorite childhood memories is that of listening to Papa play "Redwing" on his harmonica. He would stomp around my grandparents' wooden farmhouse, his cowboy boots keeping time with the music, his old, rough, calloused hands cradling the harmonica against his lips. He was a kind and gentle man, always "hoorahing" his grandchildren, hugging us, teasing us, offering us chewing tobacco and then disgusting us with the tobacco juice he spit into a coffee can. One of his favorite teasing pastimes when we were very young was to show us how "a cow ate corn": he would squeeze our legs just above our knees until we would squeal for him to quit.

The only times I saw him angry--and I can count those times on one hand--was once when he felt that my grandmother had been treated unfairly by her grandchildren and those rare times when he would come home drunk. However, in his drunkenness, his anger was muted, turned mainly toward my grandmother, a faithful Southern Baptist, when she would criticize him for drinking, and occasionally toward nothing in particular, when he was trying to work around the house and was less than sober. Even then, his anger was never violent or scary. I look back on those times as rather times tinged with sadness, the regrets of a man who never reached his potential or his dreams yet who remained open-minded and willing to learn until the end of his life. Despite his shortened schooling, my grandfather was an avid reader. Of course, being the lover of all things western, my grandfather loved to read the novels of Zane Grey and Louis L'Amour. But once when I was visiting from college, Papa had evidently been reading about dinosaurs, for he asked me if I believed that the world was that old and that dinosaurs had existed.

Papa was also an agnostic. He attended church very occasionally, but he told me he didn't believe everything that the church taught. He was my early introduction to agnosticism in a family of very faithful church-goers--Pentecostals, Catholics, and Southern Baptists--and now, as an agnostic myself, an agnosticism that has developed in me in recent years (the last eight years of the Bush administration put the final nail in the coffin of belief in organized religion for me), I take comfort in my grandfather's agnosticism: God might be present, the stories might suggest truths, but the whole truth is not to be found in religion, and particularly not in one branch of one religion.

When I think of red-winged blackbirds, I think of Papa, and I think of a song by Nanci Griffith, another daughter of Texas. That song is "Gulf Coast Highway," and when I hear those words, my eyes well up with tears. I see my grandfather's face; I hear his voice; I feel his arms around my shoulders. I see a heaven that might exist, that might take in even old agnostics:

And when he dies he says he'll catch some blackbird's wing
And he will fly away to heaven come some sweet bluebonnet spring.

Friday, February 20, 2009

"The Wrong Way"

At a recent party, I overheard an exchange that underscored for me the stupidity of emulating the wealthy. One man at the party was preparing a cup of coffee. As he poured in the sugar and creamer, he turned to the rest of us and said, "A friend from England told me this--to put the cream and sugar in the cup first, and then pour in the coffee. The motion of the pouring coffee stirs up the cream and sugar, thus mixing the separate elements. Then you don't need to use one of those wasteful wooden stirrers to mix the cream and sugar."

He then looked across the room at a British man who was present and added, "I don't know if this is a class thing or not, but it certainly makes ecological sense."

The British man smirked and said, "You've done it the wrong way. It is a class thing," suggesting that my friend's way of stirring coffee was a lower-class thing to do.

Using the motion of the liquid being poured into a cup to mix the sugar and cream makes a great deal of pragmatic sense. Doing so eliminates the use of wooden stirrers, saves more trees, and reduces garbage. It eliminates the use of plastic spoons, a choice which also leads to more environmental friendly consequences. Yet we may shrink from this pragmatic choice because we fear that doing so will label us as "low-class."

This exchange prompted me to think of other choices we make because we do not want to be seen as low class, because we want to emulate the wealthy. Think of our lawns, for instance. Suburban Americans are in love with broad expanses of bright green, trimmed, and weedless lawns. Why? Because they perceive the lawn as an expression of their wealth, like those broad expansions of English grounds. The neatly trimmed lawns are meant to emulate the English squire or duke, someone rich enough to have large amounts of land remain untilled, fallow. And so Americans pour fertilizer onto their lawns to make the grass grow and then cut the grass with gas-powered mowers to keep it trimmed and neat. They pour herbicides on their lawns to kill the dandelions and bunch grass. Those herbicides and fertilizers get washed away by rain and infiltrate the groundwater and nearby streams and rivers, with negative environmental consequences. To maintain that green expanse, people rake the leaves from their lawns, place those leaves in bags for garbage pick up. The lawn waste goes to the landfill instead of decomposing and adding nutrients to the soil. Such "de-nuded" lawns require more watering. And so it goes.

A neighbor told me that her father didn't garden because he thought that it was low class; only the rural and needy garden. The wealthy buy what they need and want; only the lower classes dirty their hands. We see similar attitudes in the Wall Street tycoons that have helped bring our country to an economic meltdown. Rick Santelli can scream on television that poor homeowners who are facing foreclosure are the cause of our nation's troubles--but surely we know better. Yes, many folks were dazzled by the opportunities to own what they could not really afford (again, emulating the wealthy--and following the advice of leaders who told the public to "go shopping"), but those Wall Street tycoons are more to blame. They bundled together toxic mortgage-backed securities, thinking that they could make oodles of money on these iffy assets. And now we all have to pay the piper. We've emulated the wealthy to the detriment of the environment and of our society. This is the "wrong way."

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Texas Justice

In 1986, Timothy Cole, a student at Texas Tech in Lubbock, was convicted of raping another student at the university, even though:

  • his friends provided an alibi for him,
  • he was an asthmatic and a non-smoker, but the rapist was a chain smoker
  • and the only evidence was the victim's identification of him from a "poorly constructed photo lineup."

The rapist left behind a fingerprint on a cigarette lighter at the scene of the crime, but Lubbock police destroyed that evidence. Timothy Cole refused the prosecution's offer of probation if he confessed; he told his mother that he would rather be imprisoned for something he hadn't done than live free, labelled unjustly as a sexual offender.

In 1995, the real rapist, a man imprisoned for other similar crimes, wrote letters to Lubbock officials and judge Jim Bob Darnell, an assistant district attorney who prosecuted Cole in 1986. Now that the statute of limitations was up, Jerry Wayne Johnson confessed to the crime--but neither Lubbock officials nor Darnell responded to the letters. Over ten years later Jerry Wayne Johnson's continued letter writing confessions caught the attention of Jeff Blackburn and the Innocence Project of Texas. The Innocence Project brought the case to the attention of the Lubbock courts, which refused the Project's request for an inquiry, even though DNA testing proved Cole's innocence. So The Innocence Project took the case to Austin. Finally, Timothy Brian Cole received justice--but Timothy Brian Cole had died in prison in 1999, of an asthmatic attack.

On February 5, 2009:

Travis Co. District Judge Charlie Baird formally exonerated Cole – setting free, at least, his name and reputation. According to the Innocence Project of Texas, it is the first posthumous exoneration in Texas history. "Cole's Posthumous Exoneration is First for Texas," Jordan Smith, The Austin Chronicle, February 13, 2009.

According to NPR,

So far this decade, 34 men in Texas, most of them black, have been exonerated by modern DNA testing. They spent 10, 15, 20, even 27 years wrongly imprisoned for rape before being released. "Family of Man Cleared by DNA Still Seeks Justice," Wade Goodwyn, Morning Edition, February 5, 2009.

I look at the picture of that handsome young man and wonder how many other young men have suffered such Texas justice. See some of them here, at the Innocence Project of Texas website.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Republican Hypocrisy

Chuckling over the Republican's complaining about the Obama administration's adding to the national debt with the stimulus package? Wondering how Republicans can still call themselves "fiscal conservatives"? Here's a factoid for your Republican friends who remain firmly entrenched in Fox Fantasy Land: the Bush administration added $5 trillion to the national debt. That's what the Obama administration inherited. Republicans need to stop mewing about the stimulus plan and start acting responsibly to get this nation back on track. Obstinately refusing to act in good faith with the current administration that's now dealing with the after-effects of their atrocious governing is not the way to do that.

Here is George Packer's take on what the Republican-Democratic debate is really about.

And here is Steve Benen's post about Republican behavior.

Update, February 14, 2009: Steve Benen posts on Rush Limbaugh's and Republicans' "rooting for failure" of the Obama administration and of the stimulus package. As Benen points out, Republicans would have screamed "unpatriotic" to anyone who might have openly rooted for failure of the Republican-led government.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Dancing with Bollywood

The picture doesn't do the footwork justice, but these boots have been dancing to Hindustani films lately. One of my young co-workers loves Bollywood films, and she has loaned some of her DVDs to me. I had viewed a few films produced in India and liked one or two of them quite well, most notably Monsoon Wedding, but I really don't know much about "Bollywood" films. Now, however, thanks to Hijrah, my co-worker, I know a little more.

I now have a favorite actor, Ajay Devgan (with Aamir Khan running a close second). In the first borrowed film I watched, Deewangee, Devgan plays the villain; in the second, Chori Chori, he plays the brooding male lead in this romantic comedy. I think that I like Devgan and Khan so well because they are, of course, good-looking, and also because they have very expressive faces; they inhabit their characters.

Today I watched Dil Chahta Hai, a story of the friendship of three young men just graduated from college and the women with whom they fall in love. Those boots were dancing to one of the songs on that film, "Koi Kahe, Kehta Rahe." I just can't hear a tune such as this without tapping my feet, and if I am at home, I must jump up and dance around the room, despite the pain in my fifty-one-year-old knees. If I thought knee surgery would enable me to dance like those folks do in the dance scene to "Koi Kahe, Kehta Rahe," I'd make arrangements for the surgery immediately!

Here are links to other music videos from Dil Chahta Hai:

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Further Depressing News About Republicans

Republicans have embraced Rush Limbaugh as their unofficial leader, taking cues from him in the way they are resisting the President's stimulus plan and in the language they use in describing their ideas. There are a few leading Republicans (or those who publicly link themselves to conservative ideas) I continue to respect; unfortunately, none seems to be in the House or the Senate. See this post at Think Progress: "GOP Leaders Embrace Rush Limbaugh as Their 'Unofficial Leader.'"

Check This Out: One blog and one website that refute some of the current depressing conservative "arguments" can be found here:

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

"The Voices of the Conservative Movement's Conscience"

It's old news that Georgia Congressman Phil Gingrey laid some soft-soap criticism on Rush Limbaugh and the right-wing rose up in anger. Then Phil apologized to Limbaugh. It's a real shame that regional Republican "leaders" such as Gingrey can't buck that loud-mouthed, hate-spewing, "I hope Obama fails" blowhard. Instead, Gingrey posts on his website a letter of love to the likes of Limbaugh, a portion of which Gingrey e-mailed to me in response to an e-mail I sent to him, a response that clearly indicates my e-mail wasn't read. Oh, well, I'm not part of Gingrey's constituency--since I live a couple of counties outside the 11th Congressional District (Paulding, Bartow, Polk, Cobb, Carroll, Haralson, Floyd, and Chattooga counties), a district that, according to the 2000 Census and my quick (and questionable math), is over 78% white. [For ethnic demographics by county, go here: Georgia's Office of Planning and Budget Census Data Program.]

But when the likes of Limbaugh, Hannity and Gingrich are called the "voices of the conservative movement's conscience," you know morality and truth have reached a new low in the Republican party.

Here is the quote:

Now more than ever, there is a need to articulate a clear conservative message for moving our nation forward. Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Newt Gingrich, and other conservative giants are the voices of the conservative movement's conscience. Everyday, millions and millions of Americans-myself included-turn on their radios and televisions to listen to what they have to say, and we are inspired by their words and by their determination. At the end of the day, every member of the conservative movement, from political commentators and thinkers to elected officials, share an important and common purpose in advancing the cause of liberty, reigning in a bloated federal government, and defending our traditional family values.

"Advancing the cause of liberty"? What about the suspension of habeas corpus under that very Republican rule of the past administration? Or the extensive wire-tapping? Or the use of torture? What a joke!

"Reigning in a bloated federal government"? What government has left us trillions of dollars in debt and in economic crisis?

"Traditional family values"? Is Newt Gingrich the spokesperson for those values? What a hoot!

Haven't had enough? Go to Congressman Phil Gringrey's website and wonder why so many Georgians put guys like this in positions of responsibility: Loves Rush. Oh, and in case you don't know what Old Glory looks like, there's a photo right there on that page, titled "Our Flag." Just another indication of Republican attitude toward U.S. citizens: we're so dim we can't even recognize the flag of the United States unless it's labeled.