Though, as I get older, the rom-coms seem to get me teary-eyed, and sometimes, I see things that bring tears to my eye that I would have just laughed at years ago.
Yesterday, I braved the cold with my brother and went to the World Trade Center site. We opted for the guided tour and I am glad we did, despite that it was about 35 degrees, I was not dressed for the weather, and the tour took 70 minutes outside in the cold.
It was a lot of great information that I had not known about the building, the day the attacks happened back in 2001, and some of the people who were first responders. I also learned that all the trees on the current site represent a first responder who was killed. There are about 100-200 that are not yet planted and will be once the people finish all of the buildings in the the trade center complex. The missing trees are growing in New Jersey so that they will all be the same height as the ones already planted when they are placed in the garden area.
I love the wall - We have only one 'A' and we have to decide where to place it - W_r, or Pe_ce.
There is a beautiful memorial bronze piece just outside of the makeshift museum (the real museum is not finished due to some BS arguments over money and ownership or something).
I started to cry three times after the tour when I was in the "museum" looking at the images, hearing the voices, and seeing the recovered items from the wreckage.
I think it hit me more to see the sites of the smoke and the destruction now that I am in NYC and know the area and have been down to the area where the buildings were several times. I have sat to have lunch in front of the new building 7, I have walked past the hole before it was a beautiful waterfall memorial. I now know that the buildings that are there now are about half the height of the old trade center buildings - so incredibly impressive, especially after I went into the Empire State Building two days ago. The towers were taller than I was high in that current building.
When voting time comes around, I always remember a line from the MTV campaign a few elections ago, "Vote or die!" I always envision Puff Daddy (Diddy - as he goes by now) saying it on the commercials. Not that I ever thought of him as a good spokesperson, but still.
Later, I remember hearing that several of the celebrities in the ads did not vote and also did not die.
That led me to not worry so much that there was a curse over those that did not vote, but it is still nice to vote when you can.
Even though I am busy, I have decided to put myself back into the blogging every day mode. I made it all the way into the last part of August doing so and have dropped off since then only posting a few times a week.
To help me, I have signed up for NaBloPoMo October. The theme for the month is masks and today's prompt was, "When you saw the word mask, was your first interpretation protection, covering up, persona, or performance?"
When I hear the word mask I always think of the Paul Laurence Dunbar poem, "We Wear the mask".
The poem was published in the late 1800s by him (an African American - or Negro as I think we were called at the time). It is all about the struggles of people and how they tend to hide them from others. I first read it back in high school and have loved it and really felt it since then at various points in my life and during different situations.
We Wear the MaskWe wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, --
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
I love it!
That is what I do on so many occasions - hide what is really going on and put on a happy, or just a straight face that others can't read.
All this to say that my first impression after reading the theme for the month of October with BlogHer was hiding imperfections, protecting the image (I think) I have in the eyes of others, and making sure I always seem in control of situations.
Last Wednesday, I had a 3-hour delay in NYC to get to Chicago. That meant that I had to stay with Brother-from-another-mother-and-father overnight and catch the first flight to StL the next morning.
When I landed and started walking toward the exit, I noticed a lot of soldiers standing at attention. As I kept walking, I noticed that they were saluting veteran, older soldiers as the older men walked off or were wheeled (wheelchairs) off of the plane.
It was really a great sight to see the younger soldiers honouring the veterans.
And it was a huge celebration. There were even bands and non-soldiers and airport workers who tried to keep me moving along so that I would not take pictures. It was so big that I had to look it up to see what it was. I believe it was a celebration for them as they got ready to head to the main WWII memorial in DC (which I got to see during my quick visit there). It is Honour Flight Chicago and they help vets get to the memorial to reflect.
Here are some pictures:
This was my first view of the soldiers.
The veterans looked so happy at the youngsters saluting them.
More vets honoring the older vets.
They even had music.
And more music if you look to the left. Also tons and tons of people.
Still going strong with posting each day this year.
Here are the top 10 posts from the month of July. Feel free to read or re-read any posts.
After all my logic and my theory - Post about how St Louis should not be the most dangerous city in the country. I incorporate some Fugees - you can never go wrong with Lauryn Hill... unless it is dealing with paying taxes, right? Saturday Quote: Why complicate life? - Great quote. Nahwlayduhs - Post about my long-time incorrect understanding of what a candy was really called. Social Construct with Power - A bit of my thoughts on race and race identification and relations. Possibly the worst invention ever - If you have ever been in a bathroom with toilet rolls that do not move a full circle, you will understand this rant. Thick and full of body - The hair dresser said I have more and thicker hair than anyone she had ever dealt with. I guess I should be proud, even though my hair style took 14 hours to complete. Summer is tasty plastic tubes - How could you not enjoy frozen freeze-pops in the summer time? Reminds me of childhood. You may rejoice, I (still) must mourn - Just my views on the US's independence day. The things I do for hair - More on my 14 hour hair styling extravaganza. Pleasing others vs living my life - I have spent a lot of my life trying to please others. I am trying to work on making myself happy.
For this holiday, I take you back to my thoughts from 2008. Here is some content from the original blog post: The 4th of July is Yours, Not Mine. Unfortunately, my sentiments still ring true today, four years later. Only thing I can add is that you should be careful with the fireworks in all the places that have been super hot and dry of late. Only change to my writing is the video at the end, the original is no longer available, so the one I added today has no commentary and no additional song - though, it is still the shiznit, though!
Since I was a kid and started reading about the history of this country (on my own of course, since the schools didn't teach the truth -- just the apple pies, George Washington, Lincoln BS) I have not really been down with celebrating July 4 as any sort of independence day.
There are too many groups in this nation that are not free, too many people who continue to struggle due to the incredible injustices perpetuated by the government (national, local, and state).
I love these words by Langston Hughes and Frederick Douglass.
Douglass' words can STILL apply to basically any minority group in this nation (not just ethnic minorities, either -- sexual, economic (though the poor are the majority), displaced, etc). This comes from a speech he gave 5 July 1852. It was an event commemorating the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
"This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn." And he asked them, "Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day?"
What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sound of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants brass fronted impudence; your shout of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanks-givings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.
Two pieces from Langston Hughes, the first from 1938:
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek-- And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-- Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home-- For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay-- Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again-- The land that never has been yet-- And yet must be--the land where every man is free. The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME-- Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose-- The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, America!
O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath-- America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again!
This poem was written by Hughes in 1925:
I, Too, Sing America
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed --
I, too, am America.
Be careful with the fireworks and explosive devises -- don't blow your hands off. Have a sober driver. Don't eat so much that you have to undo the button on your pants.
Be safe.
Try to think about what this day really means for all the people in this nation.
Remember that everyone is not free.
I leave you with possibly the most awesome version of this country's anthem EVER! Along with another great little song after the anthem. I love the commentary in the beginning and the end.
Since I was a kid and started reading about the history of this country (on my own of course, since the schools didn't teach the truth -- just the apple pies, George Washington, Lincoln BS) I have not really been down with celebrating July 4 as any sort of independence day.
There are too many groups in this nation that are not free, too many people who continue to struggle due to the incredible injustices perpetuated by the government (national, local, and state).
I love these words by Langston Hughes and Frederick Douglass.
Douglass' words can STILL apply to basically any minority group in this nation (not just ethnic minorities, either -- sexual, economic (though the poor are the majority), displaced, etc). This comes from a speech he gave 5 July 1852. It was an event commemorating the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
"This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn." And he asked them, "Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day?"
What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sound of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants brass fronted impudence; your shout of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanks-givings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.
Two pieces from Langston Hughes, the first from 1938:
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.") Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek-- And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-- Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home-- For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay-- Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again-- The land that never has been yet-- And yet must be--the land where every man is free. The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME-- Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose-- The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, America!
O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath-- America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again!
This poem was written by Hughes in 1925:
I, Too, Sing America
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed --
I, too, am America.
Be careful with the fireworks and explosive devises -- don't blow your hands off. Have a sober driver. Don't eat so much that you have to undo the button on your pants.
Be safe.
Try to think about what this day really means for all the people in this nation.
Remember that everyone is not free.
I leave you with possibly the most awesome version of this country's anthem EVER! Along with another great little song after the anthem. I love the commentary in the beginning and the end.
