Ellie Mae

Ellie Mae
Beautiful Ellie Mae

Freddie, the French Bulldog

Freddie, the French Bulldog
Lazing on a sunny afternoon

The artist

The artist
Ollie Mac

Ollie and Annie

Ollie and Annie
Azorean grandmother

Acrylics and watercolors

Acrylics and watercolors
Cannabis and sunflowers

Papa and Ollie Mac

Papa and Ollie Mac
Priorities, Baby

Acrylics and watercolors

Acrylics and watercolors
Hollyhocks

Mahlon Masling Blue

Mahlon Masling Blue
My friend and brother.

Mark's E-mail address

bellspringsmark@gmail.com

Saturday, June 4, 2016

Back Row, Aisle Seat

Back Row, Aisle Seat

I missed out on the opportunity of my lifetime yesterday, and you know what? I’m good with it. Only eighteen hours ago the impromptu plan to make the run down to Cloverdale, to see Bernie Sanders speak, surfaced here in our kitchen.

My knee-jerk reaction when asked if I was interested, was, “Hell yes!” Highly so. The Man. The Visionary. The Hope. The Dawn of a new Tomorrow.
With the new dawn, come a new hope.

Euphoria, like an overfilled birthday balloon, burst with a bang only seconds later, as I realized that what I was asking of myself, was comparable to being in the center of the crowd at Reggae on the River. I achieved phenomenal success in this endeavor last August, even though it was only ten minutes.

Still, those ten minutes exist and the accomplishment with them.

I didn’t try to stay in the center of the throng any longer than the few minutes that I did; I was just flexing my “social anxiety” muscle to prove I could do so. Though the accomplishment has buoyed my spirits and my confidence, it has not done so, enough to envision myself in the crush of humanity that inevitably envelops Bernie Sanders. 

I do not see photos of this in the media, only on face/book. No, the media refuses to give Bernie coverage, because it is bought and paid for by the same folks who make sure the American public does not see anything about those two recent oil spills.

I know. What two oil spills?

Now millions of Americans, a goodly percentage of them here in Cali, are as thrilled as I am to have Bernie Sanders, and no wonder. No politician in my lifetime has put out such a ray of hope, not since the assassination of John Kennedy, and the ascension of big money. 

If Bernie were not on the scene, the reality is that Hilary Clinton would be my candidate, even though her association with Monsanto is enough right there to cross her off my list. Sigh.

Bernie Sanders has fought the good fight since he stood side-by-side with Martin Luther King, Jr. and marched for human rights. He has never varied from this course of action. 

I like that in a candidate for President. The same cannot be said about any other candidate.

Money does not have the same hold over Bernie that it has over EVERY other candidate. He is not funding his campaign with big money from any individual or any entity. Period.

I like that in a candidate for President. The same cannot be said about any other candidate.

Bernie Sanders is a moral man; he understands the difference between right and wrong. He has consistently demonstrated this in his political career. You can look it up.

I like that in a candidate. The same cannot be said about any other candidate.

I wanted to hear Bernie speak, I wanted to see him in person and I wanted to show him that I supported him for those same reasons. I simply could not take the chance that I would end up impacting those around me, because I could not deal with the crush.

Unlike a movie theater, where I can sit in the back row, on the left side, on the aisle, there were no aisles at the Bernie rally. I could not assume that I would be allowed to hang on the fringes of the crowd, hanging back so as not to get engulfed.

There must be intense security at this type of event; I do not think it is being paranoid to assume that security personnel would be keeping a close eye on those who stood out, for whatever reason. Still, no biggie, right? Who cares if security wants to monitor me?

The bottom line is that if I had an issue of any sort, those around me would be negatively impacted, and that was unfair to them. I have made my feelings for Bernie as a candidate known, both at home and on social media, and that is what I do.

What I am learning not to do is beat myself up when I find that I still have impediments to specific situations, brought on by social anxiety.

I had already learned that fortifying myself with a barrage of substances, intended to help me deal with this anxiety, is not a good idea. I learned that on Easter Sunday, back in 2011, when I went to AT&T Park with the family to see the Atlanta Braves, and ingested a little something-something to help me make it through the day. Or two or three something-somethings.

I had tripled the usual Lorazepam dose from 2 mg to 6; I had brought a half-dozen gluten-free, cannabis cupcakes, the only food I consumed all day; I had taken a 500 mg Vicodin and I made sure to blend in three or four shots of Jameson, as we encountered various watering holes on our travels.

I fainted dead away on the ferry coming back from the game. If not for the support on both sides of me, by my two then-EMT-Cal Fire sons, I would have hit the proverbial deck.

Thud.

So, yes, I stayed here at home last night and watched the Giants beat the Cincinnati Reds, behind Johnny Cueto. Sue me. Whereas I might have felt guilty at one point in time, now I just feel hopeful. In the big picture it does not matter whether or not I was at the rally.

Like Hunter Pence, who just ripped his right hamstring muscle off of his thigh, I am on the sidelines, but not down for the count. Just as I cannot imagine Preacher Pence sitting idly by as he recuperates from his injury, I will not sit idly by either.

I may not be able to express my support at a rally, but I can express my voice by voting. Additionally, I can express my support on paper.


GO, BERNIE!

2 comments:

  1. Interesting parallels here... Meg invited me to go with her to the Bernie rally last night and I briefly considered it (for much the same reasons that you cited). But I know me well enough to know that dealing with that crowd (estimated at 6,000 by today's PD) in that heat (over 100 degrees while waiting in line) and with no ability to sit down. ... well, I knew this would not go well. I wished her well and applauded her for her fortitude and looked enviously at the youthful exuberance. And stayed home and watched a documentary on Bob Dylan...

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    1. You know, it's also my need to pound the water and the resulting need to use the facilities. Incessantly. The heat is not that much of a factor, but the standing is hard. Anyway, I have no regrets. Much love

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