Chillin' With The Chillun'

Thank you loyal readers. I've been working out some personal things here. Earlier I was thinking to myself, "What about the poor bastards reading your thoughts as you work them out?" And, "This artificial obtuseness is kind of silly in my mind. Do they see the glaring inconsistency?" I hold that secrecy is the most pernicious and the most willingly accepted enabling behavior of all. I'm not even directly referring to my relationship with the "at-risk-now-person." There lies the obvious inconsistency. The question is answered in part, by another question.

When does privacy become secrecy? You don't use last names in Al-Anon, Alateen, AA, etc. This is a reasonable degree of privacy. Not directly describing "at-risk-now-person" or even confirming my relationship in this blog, is in my mind not so reasonable. That doesn't mean it is totally lacking reason, is unjustifiable, or I'm suddenly going to sing like a cornered republican. I don't go under a pseudonym here, though I try to respect the anonymity for people I know personally who do. I may not have that desire, but it would be arrogant for me to name other people who wish to be anonymous. Especially when I am preparing to create a new anonymous blog, with changed names, so I can be as candid as I want.

All that said, I'll stay with my "at-risk-now-person", even if it does sound like "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Frankly I don't see much difference in the two prohibitions, except this is one I would choose to honor because of my respect and care for most of the people involved. I will likely make this whole episode part of a written or performance piece, and I of course hope by then there will be a happier resolution and I can get permission to be frank. If things go utterly to Hell, I won't need permission. Even with my pessimism, I do expect a positive outcome in the long run, though I acknowledge the other possibilities.

In between social dysfunction in my personal life, I've ranted about our national dysfunction. I'm still in shock that our country were sheep willingly led by coyotes, and only now that the damage to our national psyche, reputation, and strength is both irreparable and so blatantly obvious that even faux news reports on it. It is only recently that more than half the country disapproves of our new war crime friendly, privacy unfriendly, corporate owned, citizen unfriendly, tyrannical , and integrity unfriendly government. As I said recently, too little, too late. And that is the understatement of the century. We are just beginning to see the cost of our nation's mob cowardice run amok.

Still, I'm a happy guy. My country appears hellbent on following the USSR's path of the early 90's, and so does my at-risk-now-person.

I saw a kid's show yesterday, a bunraku puppet show. Momotaro (Peach boy), as produced by Thistle Theatre. This was the company where I first appeared on stage, and put me firmly on my current path. Jean, the artistic director is wonderful lady and I consider her a good friend. I only see her a time or two a year, but she was so instrumental to my path, and is so unhesitatingly supportive I don't know how it could be otherwise.

Brian who I worked with was one of the puppeteer/actors I worked with and it was great seeing him again. He's moved on to other projects, and is not with Thistle Theatre full time anymore so I was especially lucky to see him. I made a nice donation, which was double what I'd initially planned as I remembered I have a nice IRS refund coming from my tuition for ETI last year. I like watching the shows, as they are fun and the children's reactions are so delightful. I had an added treat this time.

My grandfather had a tapestry of the Momotaro story above his desk. I think his gardener gave it to him. I don't recall his name, but his kids were my age and we played together a lot on Saturdays when I was at my grandpaarent's house. I believe they were friends, and that grandpa was his very last customer when he retired. As his children got older they started working with him, but they all went to college and became professionals, one was a lawyer and one a doctor the last I heard of them.

My grandfather's desk was a small affair in the corner of the tv room in the basement. He'd write his family letter there on a manual(?) typewriter, using onion skin paper with five or six carbons. We still treasure those letters. I used to sleep on the couch next to the desk as the younger kids got the beds and were afraid to sleep alone in the basement. I enjoyed it, as I got to stay up watching the creature features, and could go to the next room and look at all the tools. Grandpa was an accomplished carpenter. I spent a lot of time looking at the tapestry in the evenenings as I went to sleep and in the mornings as I woke up, remembering the story which Grandma had read to me a few times.

I thought of the story during the show, as I'd forgotten most of it. But as the puppets told the story I remembered the tapestry, and the pictures on it. I experienced the show through my happy memories of the tapestry and the delighted giggles and howls of young children. I smile even now thinking about it. And I wonder if that tapestry in any way informed Grandpa as he wrote his weekly family bulletin.

What a wonderful show for me. I was both in the present with the story, and back to some of my favorite childhood memories. In between I've experienced numerous addiction related tragedies and traumas, the growth of what has become by far the most corrupt government in the history of North America. That was not even in my consciousness. Sitting with happy children and yourself as a happy child -- what could be better? What else could you want?