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On the road again... but without Jack Kerouac, or Willie Nelson, or Charles Kuralt or William Least Heat Moon.
We'll be staging our own mini-March on Washington late this week, squeezed in between the massive Mall rallies of early and late October. And if I happen to spot any Right Wing Activist Supremos, I'll be sure to spit on the sidewalk for luck--
theirs, and may it be all bad.
But I prevaricate.
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We're really going to that muggy swampland city to attend the interment of my wife's father in Arlington National Cemetery, where a myriad fallen American soldiers lie among the headstones, row on row, marking our nation's great propensity for war. More happily, we'll also get to catch up with family and a few friends, and to sightsee the region. Besides, what else is there to do in D.C.--watch Congress acquire cash and argue through another day? (Oh, where are the filibusters of yesteryear, when Jimmy Stewart showed us what a real Senator would do?) Maybe we could catch a Redsk... oops, better not use that word, offensive to many. Hmmm... maybe we'll just paddle down the Potomac to Mt. Vernon
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and pretend it's all been a bad dream, and our Democracy is just beginning, with a whole Continent to explore from sea to shining sea, and a second chance at building a Land of the Free with Liberty and Justice for all...
Not likely. Our playing-for-change President has proved himself no Franklin Roosevelt, not even a George Washington, but more a, God save us, Calvin Coolidge, supposedly smart but tragically aloof,
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positioning himself above the fray, away from the fraying public trust, the frayed retirement savings, and the restive, frazzled citizenry--and I don't mean the shameless Supremos' "citizens" of the world (of global corporate greed, that is), but the people (yes), afraid of senseless wars and a scarily diminished future.(
The amazing deja-vu-all-over-again editorial cartoons are both copyright 1994 by the great Pat Oliphant.)
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Anyway, we're headed East for several days, and to fill those absent hours I'll be posting a small piece on some Jazz books for kids.
(And coming soon, when I find time to focus, a too-long-delayed tribute to a couple of tenor stalwarts, Bill Perkins and Richie Kamuca.)
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