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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is steaming with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want ALL to thrive in

Thursday, May 04, 2006

no permanent bases iraq


Call your Senator:
sign on to S.Con.Res. 93
by Sen. Harkin
(202)224-3121


Introduced in Senate (05/03/2006)

Expresses the sense of Congress that: (1) the United States should not maintain a permanent military presence or military bases in Iraq; (2) the United States should not attempt to control the flow of Iraqi oil; and (3) U.S. Armed Forces should be redeployed from Iraq as soon as practicable after the completion of Iraq's constitution-making process or December 31, 2006, whichever occurs first.


Giving Utah another chance!

I’m headed to my favorite most consistently hostile flying j where I learned New Yorkers are warm & fuzzy friendly creatures compared to those westerners that live in Utah. This is the station that I sometimes leave quickly from depending on who’s circling my truck.

I’m pumping diesel (biodiesel is no where to be found in this part of the states) & a small white car with a young white man hanging out the window drives behind me. He is yelling ‘bush & cheney – YEAH!!!’ There are other young white people in the car, the girls in the back seat are smiling a little crookedly I think.

“Come talk to me” I yell back. “I support bush & cheney” he yells. “Come here – I want to meet a 32% er” I respond. “I support the war” he screams back. “Oh, now you’re only a 22% er” I yell back.

There is another white man, mid 40’s I’d say, pumping gas on the opposite side as me. He has turned his back to me steadily pumping, mute & focused on the hose. I say in his direction, “support war – how can anyone support war?” He ignores me. I add, “& I bet that young man calls himself a Christian.”

No one else is paying any attention. I trudge inside, under the mislabeled code yellow alert sign, to find a clerk.

This time, the cashier, at first glance, looks like Sissy Spacek had she stayed in that abusive relationship for 10 more years. Or maybe it’s her accent that reminds me of Sissy in that movie. I tell her the color code out front is wrong, it has been elevated. “You don’t say” she drawls, staring at me, undecided if I’m correct or crazy. “Yes, it is now PINK, in fact it’s been pink for quite awhile now” I insist “pink for peace’ “Heck yeah,” she exclaims “it sure is – it sure should be” We smile knowingly at each other & I return to the parking lot.

Elevated Color Code

"Excuse me!” I’ve stopped at a Flying J Truck Stop in honor of Rae who LOVES Flying J – after all their bathrooms rate at least an 8 out of 10 – and because they have a Homeland Security Sign over their doors in Nevada, Utah & Wyoming that declare a Yellow Alert is in progress & to speak with the cashier for details.

I am addressing the young white woman with stringy colorless hair & a face as devoid as her hair wearing a cashier’s uniform. “Excuse me” I repeat to make sure I really have her attention. “The color alert you have in front of the building?” I point toward the entrance where the sign is hanging “the color alert is wrong – it has been elevated.”

She searches in the direction of my point & says “it has?” “Yes, of course, it’s been elevated to Pink. It is no longer Yellow.” I insist.

“Well, where is it?” she queries.

“Over the door there – it says yellow but we are in Pink for Peace.”

“Hmmmm” she says still devoid of commitment to any emotion.

“Well do you think you can fix it?” I ask “folks are going to get confused.”

“I’ll have to speak to the manager about it” she says in a monotone that only slightly
livens when I ask if I can speak to her. No, he is in the back room & they are not allowed to bother him in there.

Off I go to the next Flying J about 40 miles down the road.

Leaving Nevada behind

I almost wasn't going to but here I am, in the casino, breathing in smoke, blaring slot machines a cacophony of tinny music, bells, lights, dings & dongs, with some canned male voice promising instant riches keeping time to the keyboard as I sit in starbucks & use their free internet access to post my blog.

I've only received 2 fuck you's thus far - both from younger white men (25-35), both driving pick-up trucks, both looking so angry and speeding off after they slowed long enough to jab their middle fingers at me - one was in California, the other in Nevada.

The atmosphere in Nevada doesn't feel as hostile as it has in the past. Lots of friendly nods, horn honks, smiles & waves, and several peace symbols and two of those hawaii-type signals with the thumb & baby finger extended & rotating, the other 3 fingers resting on the palm.

So I had to stop to post - I'm heading to Laramie & Cheyenne first, where I hope to connect with CodePINK women & other peace activists in Laramie; and maybe the CodePINK women from Denver might meet me in Cheyenne - I'm excited!!!

It is a beautiful, but cold, morning with a gorgeous sky - the sun is just coming up, casting her lovely pink hue on the oyster shell thick clouds that make amazing formations across the huge open desert sky! Have to run so I don't miss any more of the sunrise! peace, sam