I understand that there are people who check my blog every day or two. In happier times, I'd say, "Good god, have you no TV!" Today, I say thank you. I wouldn't post anything tonight if I didn't know someone would wonder if no new post meant something. Mind you, I'm not promising to post something here every day--this is a hobby, not a gig. But I'm glad to do a quick recap of this day. For sad times, it's been a great day. Maybe I'm more aware that it's been a great day because these are sad times. (I'm exhausted, so apologies if I'm even more incoherent than you've come to expect. It's a nice exhaustion.)
Got up this morning, photocopied 45 flyers for the peace gathering, ran all around Bisbee posting them. That felt good. Staplers make a swell *thwunk!* when you put flyers on telephone poles. Made an all-purpose protest sign board by stapling a sheet of foam core from Alco (Bisbee's version of a Target) to a length of wood that I bought at Ace Hardware. The foam core is the same size as poster board. Emma lettered a great "Peace on Earth" onto a piece of poster board, and we fastened that to our sign board with binder clips. It works great. Now, whenever I want, I can clip on solemn signs, angry signs, comic signs, "Eat at Joe's" signs-- Maybe I'll start a business making protest sign boards or become a professional sign carrier.
Emma and I went down to the Mining Museum around 4:40. No one was there. We sat on the bench by the museum and watched tourists walk by and wondered if we were going to get reputations as Bisbee's cutest kooks. Well, Emma might get that reputation. But just as we were about to stand and raise our sign, Angelika of Women in Black came by. Five or six people were waiting to protest on the other side of the Mining Museum. I should've been disappointed, I suppose: I spent several hours putting up 45 flyers, and less than 10 people were there. But I was just pleased we weren't going to be alone.
Angelika wanted to go by the Post Office where the Friday protests happen, so we wandered over there. And the rest of the hour went rather like a cheerful montage in a movie. Terry Wolf, a local folksinger who's quite good, showed up with her guitar. Other people arrived by twos and threes. Terry sang, and Emma joined in with her, and the rest of us joined in with them, or that's how it was from my perspective. Music rang down the street--classic '60's protest songs, but sung well and proudly. A woman came with her dog and a wordless sign, a painting of a dove on a cardboard square fastened to a pole. I handed my sign to a nice young woman and walked back to the park to see if anyone was wondering where we had gone, and sure enough, someone was. Our sign got passed along to several hands. Cars passed, and our group got one or two semi-peace symbols, but I didn't notice those (Emma did). Mostly there were smiles and full peace symbols and honking and waves. It was cheerful. That was what surprised me. We had begun dropping bombs, yet people were cheerful that peace protesters were lining the sidewalk. I think the people passing by were delighted because they realized they weren't alone. I know that was much of my delight. There were not a lot of us, maybe 35 all told, but that's a mob in a small town. But if you counted the honkers and smilers and peace-sign-flashers, we must've been several hundred.
I was depressed when the war began, but I'm not depressed now. Peace is harder than war; we have to accept that. The start of this war was not a failure for peace; it was only proof that we need to keep working for peace. This is a great moment in human history. Emma and I weren't part of 35 people today. I think 40,000 protested in Paris and 50,000 in Berlin-- Well, there are millions of us. The warmongers realized that they must have fast wars if they don't want the opposition they faced as Vietnam dragged out. Now the peacemongers are having faster peace movements.
So, we came home. We invited Bev and Dick, the landlords who don't have TV, down to watch the news hour. And the news was bad: a helicopter crashed with no survivors, several civilians dead in Iraq, several oil fields burning. But it could've been so much worse, and we like Bev and Dick, so we weren't getting bad news while we're alone.
The chopper crash made me worry more about my niece, so I called my brother and sister-in-law, which I haven't done in much too long, and had a good long talk. Which made me realize I hadn't called my mom and sister in too long, and that led to another good long talk. Wanted to fall asleep, but realized I should tweak the Bisbee Peace page (added another quote at the end of the list) and put a paragraph or two in my blog.
Now I'll toddle off to bed. Peace, y'all!