POETRY & POLITICS

          Last week, on John’s birthday, we got a brief rain shower which took the temperature from 99 down to 80 and made it possible to enjoy a lovely dinner on the deck of the Pinnacle Restaurant in Comanche Trace, a nearby golf-course development. Thank you neighbor Bobby for a delightful evening.

          Other social engagements included lunch with my friend Deborah and dinner with next door neighbor Dottie.  I took Deborah by the Kroc Center and she loved the yoga room with its wooden floor and mirrored wall. The next day she met with the fitness manager about teaching a class in Nia this fall.  How fun it will be to take her class!  I remember how I loved Kim’s aerobic dance class in the 80s when we’d bop around to Annie Lennox and the Cars . . .

          Dottie is an upbeat octogenarian who lives next door half the year; the other half she lives in Colorado. She looked so pretty in turquoise.  Speaking of our elders, I’m enjoying my friend Jane’s mother’s book Everyone’s Good for Something about her life growing up in Minnesota in the 1920s and 1930s.  What we would consider hardship, such as  no indoor plumbing, were simply facts of life. Doing laundry was a big  production, from boiling water in huge vats on the stove to hand-wringing. Only when there was a hard freeze did they hang clothes in the basement, otherwise in winter they’d let the clothes freeze-dry.

          I joined two Texas organizations last week. The first is the Poetry Society of Texas.  They offer one-hundred writing contests, each sponsored by an individual or family. For example the Scott Carle Memorial Award ($100) “offered by Barbara Ann Carle of Friendswood, in memory of her son, for the best poem about the loss of a family member.” I’m going to submit “Losing My Father.”   Another is the Grayson/Logan prize ($100) “offered by Budd Powell Mahan of Dallas for his animal companions, for the best poem of 50 lines or fewer that includes or is about an animal. Any form.” For this I chose “Two Cats Watching” written in 1994.

          It’s painstaking and tedious but a must if I want to continue being a published poet.  A benefit of pulling out old work is that with fresh eyes I see things that I want to change. Many of my poems are long, so having a line limit – most are limited to 25, 32, 36 lines – makes me go back and see what I can cut.

          The other organization I joined is the Libertarian Party of Texas. I became a Libertarian in 1992 and ran for state senate in 1998, in California’s 12^th district.  At the time John and I were working in an office on Highway 41 so I contacted local Libs and had them come sign my petitions, which waived the filing fee. However, my district covered five counties, so I relied on people I’d never met to get signatures for me. When I showed up at the election office I discovered that the fellow from Tuolumne County had not turned in all his petitions because, supposedly, they’d blown out the window of his car!  I had to pay about $80.00.

          The process is different in Texas. If I want to be on the ballot I simply submit my name to the party.  Also, party affiliation is determined after you’ve voted – so you don’t have to choose when you register.

          As there was no chairman in my county, I’ve volunteered to be it. Once the head of the party returns from South America, and he approves me, I’ll have access to names of local Libertarians. Then I’ll plan a get-together, probably at a local restaurant.

          Many people think belonging to a third party is a waste of a vote. I used to think this too. I was raised a Democrat and never thought of changing until I met John and found that Republicans weren’t the close-minded, money-grubbers I’d been led to believe. I listened to what he had to say – he was raised believing that Democrats were greedy bastards – and then took a look at the platforms of each party.

          I found that I agreed with the left on many social issues but with the right on fiscal issues. In sort, I’m of the mind that the whole political system has become entrenched with professional politicians beholden to “special interests” – corporations on the right, unions on the left.

          I spent two days reading the Texas Almanac, realizing I needed to understand not only the political process but how we got here. The first thing that impressed me is that the Texas legislature meets only every other year, for six months.  Occasionally a special session may be called. All legislators earn $7,200 a year. Plus about $100 per diem. 

          There is no initiative process like in California but there are proposals to amend the state constitution.  I believe there will be twelve proposed amendments in next year’s election.

          I found the history of Texas fascinating. The five points of the Lone Star represent the five flags under which Texas has been ruled:  Spain, Mexico, the Republic, Confederacy and United States. It was interesting to find that there was a huge rift when it came to the Civil War. Most of the state did not want to join the Confederacy and did not endorse slavery. However, the eastern cotton-producing part of the state relied on slaves and since that’s where most of the money was generated, they won. Still, there were many abolitionists in Texas and from the early years education for blacks was a priority.

          I have five proposals out to teach starting in late August.  I’ve never liked the hot summer months when I’m away from “my kids” and this year is no exception. I was touched that one of my students in California sent a message that he missed me this summer at Vision Academy of the Arts.

          Now it’s time to hit the gym. I’ve started riding the exercise bike because afternoons have been too hot for a proper walk. At least mornings are pleasant, high 70s, so Walter and I can take a half-hour to amble through the neighborhood. With his nose he checks his “d-mail”  while I listen to NPR and nod to the deer who stare at me with their big eyes. Today I was happy to see a big, long-eared jack rabbit gamboling through a dry meadow.