This weekend was a wonderful flurry of company. On Friday, a friend drove the 360 miles north from Anchorage on the 2 lane road, facing total white outs when trucks passed. It took her 10 hours on the icy roads in the dark. That night, we went to 4 different galleries for the First Friday event. We saw some good, and not so good artwork, snacked on hors d'oerves and saw lots of acquaintances. Then we went out to the Blue Loon for a cheeseburger (with bleu cheese) and the latest Batman movie, the Dark Night, from the comfort of padded seats with individual armrests and food and drink accessible.
On Saturday, we drove out to the Pagoda in North Pole for our 3 Moons Over the Chatanika Christmas Party. We each brought a gift and everyone had a chance to choose or trade- I scored a chunk of chocolate, gift certificates to the Literacy Council bookstore and a crocheted bookmark. Then, I hurried home to help a young man with algebra. What's not to like about graphing linear equations and helping a smart, snowboarding kid discover the joys of the slopes. That evening, we turned on the lamps and read.
On Sunday, we slept in and then went to Susan and George's for sourdough pancakes with homemade berry sauce. There were lots of laughs and fun there. Later, a young couple who will be staying in our house while we're hiking, came over for Thanksgiving ham and homegrown potatoes. The lava cake dessert was a little dry, but we got to know them a little better and chatted about everything from the military draft and growing up in the 60s to prosthetics (her dad has one and makes them professionally).
Our dessert conversation kept me up late ruminating. I am convinced that one reason that the time is right for a biracial president, Mr. Obama, is that the now large and powerful retiring "Baby Boomers" grew up in a time that anything looked possible. Growing up, I didn't know anyone who wasn't politically active or at the very least willing to share their opinions, even in high school, in the 60s. We were the first generation that lived in the shadow of a potential (and impending, we thought) nuclear war which I think caused the attitudinal philosophy of "be happy, don't worry" and also, make your short life count. Racism has not gone away, but children growing up in the 60s were very willing and almost mandated to question the status quo. It led to introspection that allowed change to be imagined. The backdrop of the war in Vietnam also made pacifists of many of us- even us veterans. Blue collar children saw their friends go off to war. Only lately have I realized the caste system that allowed the rich to cosset their children in college, thus shielding them from the unpopular war. Ironically, many of those wealthy formed the voting elite that elected the president and Congress that condoned and funded the war without making their own personal sacrifices.
Talking with 2o somethings reminds me of how different life is now compared to the 60s with respect to the war in Iraq. It is possible to pretend it isn't happening. The newspapers moved it off of the front pages. The street corners are empty. The violence to the people there is disturbing and unjustified. Maybe all this mental meandering will reignite my activism, which has been relegated to the dinnertable and coffee table, lately.
I am lucky enough to still be working when I choose, but unfortunately, it was today. Like the song says,"I don't mind dying, but don't let it be today". The house smells of drying spaghetti sauce and bananas and the air in the house is cool and dry. I think I'll go read a few more pages.
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