04-30-08

The following images (and this collection is all over the place) came from the folder 04-30-08:


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One of the bitter parts of this collection is that Karen has passed away since this picture was taken. Many of these pictures were taken during Olivia’s Stitching Time. A sewing circle that Teresa started and ran for a year or so.

I don’t believe I used the Little White Lye Soap pictures for anything, but I did take them. The tulips are in my Mom’s yard.

By adding these photos to the Photography 139 Photography Gallery, I was able to restore the following historic An Artist’s Notebook blog entries to their original glory:

Cheese Subscription


SCSI 29160


Habitat for Humanity Fundraiser


Olivia’s Stitching Time

By restoring those entries I have now restored every blog entry from April of 2008:

APRIL – 2008

Next Saturday’s walk down memory lane will involve more Little White Lye Soap and gymnastics,

Skinhead Lesbian for Gun Control

In case you don’t follow politics closely, one of the leaders of the March for Our Lives Movement is Emma Gonzalez. She is a survivor of the Parkland shooting in February. She has a very short haircut. Her sexual orientation is none of our business.

You may remember her from her March for Our Lives Speech for its 6 Minutes of Silence. You can watch it by clicking on the link below:

Emma Gonzales March for Our Lives Speech

A Republican (surprise) candidate for the Maine State house named Leslie Gibson called her a skinhead lesbian because he doesn’t know what the terms “skinhead” or “lesbian” mean.

He also called David Hogg, another Parkland shooting survivor and leader of the March for Our Lives Movement, a “moron” and a “baldfaced liar”, because this is how he thinks adults should treat children who had 17 of their classmates murdered in front of them.

These comments (made on Twitter) by Leslie Gibson created a quick backlash against him. He had to end his candidacy. There is justice in this world, at times. Or as Martin Luther King Jr. put it much better than I*:

The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.

Amen.

You will see this unfortunate phrase tweeted by a bigoted politician in an attempt to demean a school shooting survivor in one of the pictures below. I want you to have it in the proper context.

Back on March 24, I went to the March for Our Lives Rally in Des Moines. Here is the beginning of what will become a wave of pictures from that event. Don’t worry, I will spread them out over the next few weeks.


March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

March for Our Lives - 2018

If you aren’t familiar with March for Our Lives, here is a copy of their Mission Statement:

Not one more. We cannot allow one more child to be shot at school. We cannot allow one more teacher to make a choice to jump in front of an assault rifle to save the lives of students. We cannot allow one more family to wait for a call or text that never comes. Our children and teachers are dying. We must make it our top priority to save these lives.

This is not just schools, though. This is churches, nightclubs, concerts, movie theaters, airports, and more. A child should not fear a bullet on their walk home. We may be children, but we are not fighting for just children. All lives are precious, and our country must make the safety of its citizens a number one priority.

March For Our Lives is created by, inspired by, and led by students of all ethnicities, religions, and sexualities across the country. We will no longer sit and wait for someone else to take action to stop the epidemic of mass shootings.
The mission and focus of March For Our Lives is assure that no special interest group or political agenda is more critical than timely passage of legislation to effectively address the gun violence issues that are rampant in our country. We demand morally-just leaders to rise up from both parties in order to ensure public safety.

Specifically, we are working towards…

1. Universal, comprehensive background checks
2. Bringing the ATF into the 21st century with a digitized, searchable database
3. Funds for the Center for Disease Control to research the gun violence epidemic in America
4. High-capacity magazine ban
5. Assault weapons ban

We came together on March 24th and through continued unity, we will save lives. We will not stop our advocacy until we see the change we demand – a change that is necessary in order to save innocent lives across our nation.

More pictures from the March will trickle out in the next few weeks.

*Martin Luther King Jr. was probably referencing a sermon by 19th century Unitarian minister Theodore Parker who wrote:

Look at the facts of the world. You see a continual and progressive triumph of the right. I do not pretend to understand the moral universe, the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. But from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice.

Things refuse to be mismanaged long. Jefferson trembled when he thought of slavery and remembered that God is just. Ere long all America will tremble.

The Town Sign Project Vol. 6

On Saturday I decided to look for Town Signs for THE TOWN SIGN PROJECT in the Story County area. Here is what I was able to track down:


Roland, Iowa
Roland, Iowa

McCallsburg, Iowa
McCallsburg, Iowa

Zearing, Iowa
Zearing, Iowa

St. Anthony, Iowa
St. Anthony, Iowa

Bangor, Iowa
Bangor, Iowa

Clemons, Iowa
Clemons, Iowa

State Center, Iowa
State Center, Iowa

Colo, Iowa
Colo, Iowa

Collins, Iowa
Collins, Iowa

Maxwell, Iowa
Maxwell, Iowa

Cambridge, Iowa
Cambridge, Iowa

Zook Spur, Iowa
Zook Spur, Iowa

Xenia, Iowa
Xenia, Iowa

A few things of note from this collection:

Roland has a “nicer sign” than the Roland Rocket sign, but if you think I’m going to choose a nice sign over a sign that celebrates one of the greatest Cyclones of all-time, you don’t know where you are.


Roland Town Sign
Velkommen to Not Making the Cut Sign!

Zearing used to have a sweet sign:


Zearing, Iowa

Then they replaced it with the lameness that is their current sign. This is the worst sequel since GREASE 2.

Bangor isn’t a town. I’d say it is a place where an agriculture company stores trucks and a park with a creepy swing set.


Abandoned

I literally couldn’t find anything that said Bangor. There were the remains of a sign post that may have held a sign at one time in the park. There is a Bangor church and cemetery just outside of what I would consider Bangor.


Bangor Friends Cemetery

I just can’t figure out why there are several signs directing people to Bangor, but nothing telling you that you are in Bangor. I don’t know another unincorporated town that gets that much love!

Zook Spur and Xenia are both ghost towns. The best way to describe them is that there are maybe 3 or 4 houses that are closer together than is normally the case in the country. Zook Spur is just south of Madrid. Xenia is just east of Woodward. I wish somebody cared about Jordan enough to put a sign up around there. Unfortunately, Jordan wasn’t too tough to not die.

I don’t know that I’ll have time to go sign hunting again this weekend. I start a bunch of consecutive weekends of graduations and birthday parties and more graduations and Mother’s Days this weekend. But we’ll see. We will see.

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When I road trip on SaturdayS I listen to NPR. If you’ve spent time in a car with me on a Saturday morning, you already know this fact.

If you know that fact, you also know that one of the purposes of this here blog is for me to store things that inspire me, so that I can reference them again at a later date. Sort of an online idea box.

While I was cruising around the back roads of Story County (I was desperately looking for a Bangor sign) I was listening to the conclusion of THIS AMERICAN LIFE. The episode began with the story of a group of students of color, mostly black, that were painted as anti-Semitic by the media after a field trip to see SCHINDLER’S LIST went awry.

While this story was fascinating and scary, it isn’t the story that hit home hardest with me. That was the last story of the show.

The last story of the show was about the experience of a man, who’s sister was killed in the World Trade Center on 9/11, visiting the 9/11 Memorial a few days before it opened to the general public.

Part of it I found really poignant and I think it will strike a chord with anybody that he been through tragedy, which means pretty much everybody.

I think now of every war memorial I ever yawned through on a class trip, how someone else’s past horror was my vacant diversion. And maybe I learned something, but I didn’t feel anything. Everyone should have a museum dedicated to the worst day of their life and be forced to attend it with a bunch of tourists from Denmark– annotated divorce papers blown up and mounted, interactive exhibits detailing how your mom’s last round of chemo didn’t take, souvenir T-shirts emblazoned with your best friend’s last words before the car crash. And you should have to see for yourself how little your pain matters to a family of five who just need to get some food before the kids melt down. Or maybe worse, watch that pain be co-opted by people who want, for whatever reason, to feel that connection so acutely.

There are three recording booths for people to tell their own stories of the day or remembrances of loved ones who were lost. A man exits one of the confessionals, sees me, shakes his head and says, “Amazing idea.” I enter, sit down, and stare at the screen and say Shari’s name and how I was 3,000 miles away that morning and didn’t even know she was working there until I got the call at 6:00 AM, and that I wish I had seen her more in those last years and remembered more about her and had something better prepared to say, and that I wished my kids would have known her, and that she’d think it’s pretty f*cking weird that I’m here talking about her to an invisible camera in the bowels of a museum dedicated to the fact that she was killed by an airplane while sitting at her desk. And at some point, the timer is up.

When this story was over, I just sat in my car. In Bangor, Iowa. Realizing that the way I look at certain museums has been changed forever.