Saturday, April 28, 2007

More of me

On the bookshelf. Reading/rereading: Post Office--Bukowski; The White Album--Didion; Haunted--Palahniuk.

On the iPod. Listening to: Bob Marley; The Doors; Gwen Stefani.

At the Movie. Watching: Chuck and Buck. Pulp Fiction.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

WACIPI CANKU!!!!!!

Monday, April 23, 2007

Spring Rain

Green lawn. Tall grass. Budding trees.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Homeward

Leaving the land of the rabbit-chokers today. Heading back to the prairie. Dakota home, here I come.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Just Because

Books: Blindness by Jose Saramago. The Bride-groom by Ha Jin

Movies: Havoc. Y Tu Mama Tambien. Sleep with Me.

Music: Elk Whistle. Elvis Presley. Hank Williams Jr.

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Verbatim

Call language alive. Most of the time I listen to other people's conversations and look for ways the language gives us a moment of irony, or pure pleasure. The other day I was sitting in the den while my eight year old daughter was talking about a show on TV and the fact that a live show would be performed in the cities. Usually my daughter's discussions on nickelodeon or don't interest me. However, something in this exchange caused deeper reflection.

My daughter's friend asked how she learned about the show. My daughter replied, " I googled it."

The term google was not in my childhood vocabulary. It certainly wasn't a verb. Somehow, it's evolved from technology and our daily habits. Admittedly, I google things all the time. But where does the language grow from? It could be a marker in aging, to hear new words used in new ways. It is quite enjoyable

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Hubris at Easter

How God-like am I when I create a spring snowstorm as I watch the salt cover my hardboiled egg.

Monday, April 02, 2007

True Story

If I recall it correctly, Franz Fannon said something to the effects that police were armed guards of the bourgeois. I know of several stories dealing with police and their treatment of native people. In Minneapolis, the MPD is notorious for their rides down to the river. Some time ago police were caught with two native men in the trunk of their squad car. When my uncle got picked up and sent downtown, he would pretend to pass out on the way to booking because the police liked to take jabs at him in the elevator.

I personally have not dealt with the MPD a lot. When I was a teenager, an officer told me that I was a piece of shit and that's all I would ever be. Yet, the story that I think about more often occurred years later, when, I was at a house party on Franklin Avenue behind the Indian Center. A bunch of skins were playing cards and listening to music in a fenced-in back yard. There were no disturbances, no fights. I would describe it as a small gathering of a family with a few friends.

As the night went on, people were having a good time. I was near a card game, though I don't think I was playing. Some people at the party started a small commotion, which I thought was going to be a fight. A few women came running out of the the house coughing and gaging. I wasn't sure what to think, or I wasn't thinking anything. I just remember a burning sensation come over my eyes and throat. I couldn't breathe without hacking violently, and people around me were doing the same. My cousin grabbed me from behind and tried to use my shirt to wipe out his eyes.

As party goers walked toward the front of the house to get away, blurry light flashed in front of me. It was the MPD laughing at the scene they created by tossing cans of mace into the yard and house. One of my other cousins, who I met up with in front of the house was sneezing and shooting snot out of his nose. A cop said to him, "What's the matter? You got a cold?" He chuckled and walked away.

The owner of the house came out screaming and yelling at the cops, letting them know that a pregnant woman was living in the home. All the cops went back to their squads and took off. No arrests. No citations. Some of the cops hid their badges so people couldn't get the number.

Was it an act of racism? I want to say that one of the cops was asian. Or was it an act of socialism taking place in a primarily indian neighborhood, with plenty of poor people? I'm not sure what it was, but I do know that it's not an isolated incident.

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Birds

For the last three days it's been raining in Minnesota. Today the rain finally gave way to heavy winds. It was as if the winds had brought flocks of birds. On a small tree in the back of my house, I saw robins, house finches, gray juncos, and the common cackle. The most striking bird of the bunch was the cedar waxwing. It's an awsome bird with hints of green-grey. Its face is black like a cardinal. The tips of the tailfeathers are a bright golden yellow, which contrasted wonderfully against the drab sky and brown trees.