29.8.11

beautiful disaster

its too early for her to hit the bottle
but she wonders about the hole in the wall
one minute she is plotting her getaway
the next she waits for the cards to fall

she can't find the handle
the one to turn off her spinning mind
some might think she is nothing but trouble
I think she's absolutely fine

She is such a beautiful disaster
Such a pretty mess
She's so far from all together
But she's mine even in distress

a little trip to see the doctor
got her where she needs to be
it won't last, but now she walks on glass
and swims her stormy sea

she'll tell you she is simple
to get her off your mind
she says she doesn't need much
as she whirlwinds through your life

She is such a beautiful disaster
Such a pretty mess
She's so far from all together
But she's mine even in distress

2011 Stradasphere Music

20.7.11

Domo Arigato

Today felt like just another day. I walked out the door and it felt so robotic. There was my ride, waiting in the driveway, and there I was with my messenger bag and bag full of Ziploc baggies of snacks and salad, books I don’t read and a incredibly neglected journal. The summer air hit me in the face, reminding me of where I live and it will get hotter. The yard looked the same and I felt the same. The best part was an extra kiss from my little girl and the knowing that I actually made her a lunch consisting of more than a peanut butter sandwich. My tasks today are the same as everyday as far as my job and the conversation in my carpool will be relatively the same consisting of the obligatory chatter about kids, work and the occasional fart joke.

“good morning…good morning…hey, how’s it going?”...another day in paradise. Then the dance around the coffee maker and water/ice machine…the breakfast vendor guy is smiling as he makes a killing on his powdered eggs and wimpy bacon. I am then reminded of the emailed menus sent out from him which infuriate me with their misspellings, improper use of capital letters, and overall bad formatting. Glad I brought my own food today. Breakfast for me is a couple pieces of Swiss cheese and hard salami…a far cry from the low fat/high fiber diet my doctor prescribed for me. But I do have some carrots, grapes and a salad in the overly packed refrigerator.

As I write, I realize my verbiage is as mundane as my morning. I am reminded that I actually live a life most people would wish for. I have many people that love me and I love a great many people. I am also reminded of a girl who would listen to me ramble about mundane things every day and that these ramblings are few and far between. Her absence adds to my monotony. So perhaps today is a day to digress into my clouded mind and find some memories to dance around in. Even if these memories are of me rambling about my mundane day to a certain, special girl.

23.2.11

TEN YEARS OF GRACE!


Ten years ago today, actually tonight, a bright beam of pink sunshine shined into my heart and into my life. Grace Anne Estrada came into the world in the hands of her proud daddy (who now resides around her tiny little finger.) I will never forget the doctor saying, "Come here and get your daughter." HOWEVER, I had no clue she was still inside mommy! I just saw a little part of a tiny little head peaking out, if you know what I mean. The doc says, "Reach in and get her!" Um, yeah, ok, cuz I have done this SO MANY TIMES! But with probably the goofiest smile full of joy, wonder, and mostly fear, I reached in and pulled my baby out.
She was (IS) the most beautiful thing I had ever seen! My shaky but firm hands held her in awe as I handed her to the wildly waving hands of her mom...who didn't get an epidural so she was the boss. After that I got to cut the cord. I had wanted to do it old school, with my teeth, but somehow I changed my mind. The nurses eventually took her and put her on a little table to poke and wipe and well, they were pretty rough! But I stood there with the idiot smile that only dads have and I sang her Amazing Grace. Because she was, and she still is!
She is my princess, a tornado, a little rock star, and did I say she was a princess??? She’s the “Boo” to my “Kitty”…She’s Mylie, I’m Billy Ray…She’s my world and I am toast. She calls me about 5 times a day now...she knows my cell number! She is always ready to dance with daddy, sing with daddy, wrestle with daddy and most of all, snuggle with daddy. Put a fork in me. As I write this, I wish I could take back some of the times I said GRACIE! with a little too much on the end. I wish I could take back a ton of, "I'm too tired right now to dance with you's", and about a thousand "No's". But the good news is she is only 10 and we have a long life together!
In the past year she has become obsessed with cupcakes, skinny jeans, and black nail polish. Not so much the “princess” but all the more my little rock star! As her voice gets more powerful, so does her will! I am already in deep trouble but am so proud!
There is so much more. A universe of smiles, kisses, hugs, talks, hugs, prayers, tears, on and on and on! I realize life goes by so fast, she has her own phone and email and I KNOW she doesn’t just email girls. SO, I am making a quick stop at the gun store just to prepare!
Happy Birthday Princess Grace!

12.1.11

How to rock out your cube!!!


These are called Fan Posts...very cool for the sports enthusiast!!!

Obligatory New Post

I haven't posted in so long...oh my wonderful blog, how I miss you so...so much to say...just not now...

29.4.10

Arizona Immigration Law Conjures Ghosts of Southern Neo-Slavery (From The Huffington Post)

   


Bob Cesca

  

Arizona Immigration Law Conjures Ghosts of Southern Neo-Slavery

The violation was known as "vagrancy." If you were a black man in the South following Reconstruction, and you were unable to show proof of employment on-demand to the police, you could be arrested and delivered into what Douglas Blackmon, author of Slavery by Another Name, calls "Neo-Slavery."

"Show me your papers" in the vernacular of the late 19th Century through World War II involved furnishing pay stubs or, if you were lucky, the word of your employer -- some kind of evidence proving to a police officer that you were employed.

But what if you forgot to carry your employment records with you when you left the house that morning? What if you were -- like so many regular citizens -- unaware of the anti-vagrancy law? Hell, what if you were simply unemployed? It might be your last mistake as a free citizen of the United States.

Like so many other African American males of that era, you might be incarcerated, convicted and perhaps sold to a farming, mining or lumber operation. Yes, sold. After the Civil War. After the abolition of slavery and the ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment. Slavery, it turns out, survived.

In the Spring of 1908, a young African American son of slaves living in Alabama named Green Cottonham was arrested at a train station. We don't know for sure what law Cottonham had violated to warrant his arrest because, at his trial, the arresting officer literally forgot the reason why Cottonham was picked up in the first place. So the charge of vagrancy was substituted. Cottonham convicted and sentenced to 30 days of hard labor, but since he was poor and couldn't pay several intentionally impossible-to-pay fines, the 30 day sentence grew to a year. He was carted off and "legally" sold for $12-a-month to U.S. Steel. At age 22, Green Cottonham was shoved into a coal mine as a manual laborer -- occasionally whipped and tortured, eventually dying before the end of his sentence.

Vagrancy and a wide variety of other similar violations were intentionally broad and trivial -- not intended to clean up the streets, but, instead, to suppress the advancement of blacks, as well as to feed the engines of agriculture and industry in the South with cheap forced labor.

This was a back-door slave trade, ensnaring hundreds of thousands of African American men. The Southern judicial system, fueled by ridiculous laws and ridiculous trials, became an above-boards means of rebuilding the South on the backs of slave labor. And it flourished until just after Pearl Harbor when President Roosevelt asked the Justice Department to shut it all down for fear the Germans and Japanese would use it against us in their propaganda.

Fast forward to 2010.

Last week, shortly before the Republican governor of Arizona, Jan Brewer, signed the state's new anti-immigration law, an Hispanic truck driver was stopped at a weigh station along Rt. 202 by a patrol officer.

The commercial truck driver, "Abdon," is a natural born citizen of the United States. He's obviously employed. He speaks English. He pays taxes. His wife, Jackie, is a natural born citizen of the United States. She, too, is employed. She speaks English. She pays taxes.

And yet "Adbon" was shackled by the police and detained by the Phoenix Immigration and Customs Enforcement office.

Why?

Because when the officer demanded his papers, Abdon could only produce a driver's license and his Social Security number. Not good enough. At that roadside weigh station in the middle of an otherwise ordinary weekday, Abdon made the mistake of not carrying his birth certificate with him. His birth certificate!

Put another way, Abdon was handcuffed and detained because he's Hispanic.

And now this is the law of the state of Arizona -- arresting people, citizen or not, simply for appearing Hispanic. The ghosts of Green Cottonham, "anti-vagrancy" laws and Black Codes. America has resurrected its predilection for rounding up brown people based on flimsy excuses and good ol' boy lawmaking.

While there's no evidence that the Arizona law will feed the rise of a new underground forced labor market in the United States, it's clear that the various components of neo-slavery are here now. And the optics and civil liberties violations, say nothing of the long-term consequences, are horrible. We're on the brink of rounding up Hispanic people on ridiculous charges while American corporations are actively engaged in the trafficking of illegal immigrant labor.

How soon, I wonder, until we read about Hispanic people -- citizens or otherwise -- being picked up for not having their birth certificates and other "papers" in their back pockets and consequently shipped off on some sort of prison "work release" program to a cabbage farm or meat packing plant? Free labor is slave labor.

This week, Eugene Robinson asked a salient question about the Arizona law: where are the tea party people who claim to be against government overreach? Where are the tea party people who claim to support the Constitution above all else?

The Arizona law specifically violates the Fourth Amendment: "The right of the people to be secure in their... papers and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause..." It's unconstitutional to arrest people because they merely look suspicious and then fail to produce a birth certificate as proof of citizenship. Period. But Glenn Beck, for example, said the Arizona law is okay because "the Constitution is not a suicide pact." He's suggesting here that the Constitution is important until it contradicts his crusade.

The answers to Eugene Robinson's questions are also revealed in the tea party movement's contradictory anger over certain Americans receiving ample tax cuts that reduced their 2009 federal income tax to zero. As it turns out, the tea party doesn't, in fact, support tax cuts. The tea party only supports tax cuts for tea party people. Likewise, they only support constitutional rights and liberties for tea party people. If the tea party was really about freedom, they'd be standing side-by-side with anti-Arizona protesters. But they won't. Actually, I wonder what the tea party would say about a law that allowed authorities to demand papers from people who look like Glenn Beck or Sarah Palin?

It's obvious that Republicans and tea party people fear the browning of America, with whites shrinking to a 47 percent minority by 2050, and so these groups are engaged in an effort to make it dangerous to be brown. 40 years and counting -- get them out before it's too late. The obvious reason for targeting the people is to sandbag the rising tide.

If the Republicans are really interested in preventing illegal immigration, they would pass laws that crack down on the trafficking of cheap immigrant labor to corporate farms and factories, but the fines for such violations remain laughably small (around $3,200 per undocumented worker). Writing and reforming the law on the corporate side to disincentivize the exploitation of illegal immigrant labor makes the most sense, while leaving civil rights intact. Instead, the Arizona law transparently targets and punishes all Hispanics regardless of their citizenship status (not to mention people like me who appear somewhat Hispanic). It makes the race component of both the Republican Party and the tea party movement that much more evident.

Like the neo-slavery laws of the old South, the Arizona immigration law is another way for the white, Republican establishment to retain some semblance of control in the face of a growing minority population. If history is any indication, it could also end up becoming another conduit for trafficking immigrant labor. Meanwhile, it will further institutionalize a distrust of authority while augmenting racial resentments in an increasingly incendiary environment. As of right now, however, we have an opportunity to stop all of this before history repeats itself. Fortunately, we just happen to have a president with a unique insight into racial tensions -- a president who can turn the tide.

Bob Cesca on Twitter
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8.4.10

Meanwhile, back at the blog

You never know how good you got it until someone takes it from you, you screw it up, or it evaporates. I just realized how good I had it at my last job. I had an office with a door and basically no supervision. I ran a team of designers that basically ran themselves. The part I am really missing right now is blogging on a regular basis. I had the time to read other blogs, connect with other bloggers, get inspired and write on a consistent basis. After a brutal layoff, yours truly is now in a call center environment, micromanaged, and chained by the head to a phone.

Talk about tinnitus! Well thanks to a blog application in Word I can send this to my blog without being online but it isn't the same. This all hit me this morning when I finally snuck a little internet time when the warden was away…popped on to my old iheartsingleparents page and stumbled on to a very cool blog by one QT Mama. This sneaky little adventure had me longing for wasting my company's time by expressing and or exposing myself (no! you pervert!) to the blogosphere on a regular basis. I felt like "someone".

I felt like me. I felt a part of something. I express myself differently here, much different than hanging with my brother, co-workers etc. I seem to turn off the creative side of me around most people in my current circle. There is no discussing authors, writing, artistic endeavors, on and on. Most people don't understand the appeal of documenting what most would seem mundane topics and call that creative. I get it though. Bloggers get it. A bunch of damn weirdos if you ask me but it's where a part of me fits.

I want to thank QT Mama for reminding me that toothbrushes can be interesting. And thanks to Microsoft for the blog app in Word!

25.3.10

The Light of Truth


 

If you would see everything filtered through the light of truth, you'd never, ever again know sadness, lack, or limits. You'd see that you are safe. Bathed in love. Surrounded by admirers in both the physical and spiritual realms you grace. You'd see only beauty, perfection, and meaning. And you'd realize that just as the stark contrasts of time and space and the illusions of have and have not imprison you, so too can they make possible wings that will lift you higher.

Seek understanding, or as it was once put, seek first the Kingdom of Heaven, and everything else will be added unto you. (Same thing, different audience, grossly misunderstood to this very day.)

Cawwww, cawwwwwww, cawwwwwwwww.... (Soaring bird sounds.)

Tallyho,
    The Universe