Tea party reveals recycled waste for Blackburn: Rabidoux, your move…

Word is getting out: The Tea Party is over. Well, one can hope. It seems that some who supported the professed grassroots movement of anti-tax advocates, have started to distrust the group’s legitimacy.

In a recent New York Times report, The Tea Party Convention scheduled for February in Nashville, announced an outrageous ticket price tag for the convention that would charge attendees well over the $500 mark.

Why is this important to your 7^th District? Marsha Blackburn is your current congresswoman who is planning to attend, speak and introduce the well-paid guest of honor, good ole sister moose meat. The Times reported an unconfirmed speaking fee for Palin of $100,000.

So as our hopeful congressional contender Greg Rabidoux is probably also thinking, how does this forward economic progress for the working Tennessean?

Will soaring profits be funneled back into the pockets of allegedly over-taxed workers? What is more likely is that the convention will confirm that one more group has carved out a new corner of suspicion for the public eye. That is, if true-to-the-bone tea partiers really mean what they say about government excess and want to do away with all government waste.

Marsha Blackburn must’ve had a crisis of conscience because she was attempting a back peddle as quickly as whispers of the convention absurdity hit the wind and it no longer became a “fashionably” republican event to attend.

Well, what better way to serve the people than to dwell in a la-la land of fiscally unsound proportions? Right? Wrong. Try on Dr. Greg Rabidoux for a good swap this November @ www.rabidoux4congress.com.

The balance Dr. Rabidoux proposes to bring to the table will seek out legitimate concerns of his constituents. Not ways to wreck the system, but ways to make the system better work for you: Mr. Joe and Jane Smartvoter of the Tennessee 7^th.

Case in point: Don’t you want a good education for all, including those in the military community?

Marsha Blackburn showed little concern in voting for a GI Bill brought to the floor in May, 2008, that guaranteed further educational funding for a community that she claims to care about.

Conversely, Dr. Rabidoux has expressed his support of the passage of H.R. 3221, a bill that would ensure an even broader spectrum of access to education.

So, when Republicans like Blackburn gripe about wasteful spending, maybe they should start in their own back pocket, and not do things like fail to report nearly half-a-million dollars in campaign funds or support a tea party that costs $500 dollars a head. Just sayin’, vote for Rabidoux.

Rabidoux: Devoted to the district, not to politics

Having observed the work ethic of Dr. Greg Rabidoux as a student at Austin Peay State University, it is clear that any venture he pursues is wrapped in his tireless dedication.

Now he is applying that care and time to the 7^th District of Tennessee, in his bid to replace incumbent Marsha Blackburn.

In recent months, he has invested his efforts in the counties he intends to serve, and while Blackburn may hold name recognition, she holds no interest in the people who live there.

In fact, the more Dr. Rabidoux makes his intentions known around the district as he travels and visits, the more people are finding how much he has in common with them and how well he understands their needs.

What people are seeing is that Rabidoux intends to serve them, and not a political party. Still, as a more conservative democrat, Rabidoux will bring the needed political temperance to the 7^th District seat that has not been seen since filled by Marsha Blackburn in 2003.

Blackburn has devalued and abandoned some of the most pressing needs of her constituents, including military, health care and economic recovery.

These are all areas where Dr. Rabidoux is qualified and ready to give his time with passion and genuine concern.

So the pressing question for Tennesseans of the 7^th remains: Do we want someone to simply fill an office and title, or do we want someone who unifies constituents across party lines for the betterment of their welfare?

Don’t we want someone who is ready to fight for our state in Washington? Someone who is already seeking ways to turn around a jobless economic recovery to the positive?

For my money, I’d like to see someone fighting for us rather than against us, or dividing us down party lines. Marsha Blackburn, whose initial educational background shows a bachelor’s in fashion was never our qualified proponent.

As down to earth and in touch with people as Dr. Rabidoux is, one would hardly know the extent of his work. Yet, his impressive resume reveals a varied patchwork of experience that fully qualifies him as our next representative.

It is time to pass the proverbial timecard to someone who does more than clock in and clock out.

Marsha, your time is up. It’s time to pass the torch to someone who won’t let the flame of the 7^th District burn out.

Update: Resuming posts

a lot has happened since my last blog post. ten days after my previous update, my mom passed to cancer. that was october 5. now, i know and feel her presence more than ever. it’s not easy, all in one year, being told to take a hike from a great job, losing your mother and spiraling into a sort of quiet depression that no meds would likely cure. but that is life and what makes the best out of those who would push through it all to something new. 

and now, signs of life, this spring, of new hope, pop up all around me. i feel like i’m out of an incredible funk that seems to have dwindled on for most of the winter. i’m back in clarksville surrounded again by familiar faces i know and love. and maybe most importantly, my sister is going to make an uncle out of me, quite possibly on the very day that our mother left us, october 5th (amazing, huh?), showing that life begins anew constantly, all around us. talk about making a believer out of someone…

this winter has been tough. finding any job at all has been a tough task, much less a journalism job, and i know that my hardships may pale in comparison to others’. we all have a heavy load to bear at some point. but now, as my focus returns and i feel my ambition rising up again, i can rest easy knowing that each day is a try at another try. 

i look forward to the completion of a year that will hopefully provide some adventure (yellowstone), creation (to be announced), new life (my niece or nephew) and eventually the furthering of my academic work (grad school). 

life is good i guess. it just depends on how you choose to look at it.

Socio-political sounds

This blog was inspired by a friend.

 

I’ll be dating myself by admitting this, but music was better in the 80s, so says the child of the 80s. And maybe I’m branding myself a snob, but music today blows. Where’s the passion? The raw ability to stir up the quivering masses? It’s absent in any form lately and what it’s been replaced with has become a force to be reckoned with. But there’s much music out there. And maybe I’m just missing something, but if there’s a musical revolution going on out there, I sure haven’t caught wind of it. Music is a way of getting to the heart, and getting to the heart is what moves people. And when people are moving, they’re taking action. Granted, it’s not always a desirable one, as we saw when Nu-Metal invaded the re-creation of Woodstock in ’99. Fred Durst, jackass that he is, incited the crowd to tear shit down and many people got hurt. So much for peace, love and harmony.

 

So here’s the gist of musical organizing. It must be intelligent and with substantial purpose. And there are many outlets. Music is one form of organizing that actually builds communities, and that, as some of you know, has always fascinated me. And it is why that grassroots is tied to the idea of being independent, free of the manipulation of any institutions and so it goes further to say, underground communities.

 

The music that is underground is there to inspire people on a level that commerce and capitalism cannot speak to, be it jam band music, folk and bluegrass, to punk rock and political hip-hop. Music can be a powerful means to organizing people fed up with one system or another. We saw it in the 50s with the rebellion against the birth of rock n’ roll, in the 60s with the Woodstock generation. Then came punk rock in some disputed time from its amoeba in the mid 60s to the late 70s. Though many bands are still around, the times have suffocated its flourishing existence. It’s clearly apparent to me that it’s time for another musical organizing, something of the likes we have not seen yet. And one clear sign I believe it is coming, is the reuniting of many old bands. Their time is almost up and they know it. And the door stands open wide, ready to welcome a new community, to once again provide the soundtrack to these same and other movements. There’s correlations, I think you could say to each of these movements you mentioned with some brand of music. Consider my ramblings a bit further if you will…

 

Civil Rights – Here you have rock n’ roll really getting charged up along the beginning of this movement and fueling it. And that’s still needed. Every era of music I just mentioned has lent its own contribution to the struggle for human equality and justice. Hip-hop, when done well, from Public Enemy to Tupac. Minor Threat and so on.

 

The Women’s Movement – The musical parallels here are scattered as well. Look at Billie Holiday and the way jazz liberated women to some extent, Janis Joplin, Lilith Fair several years ago. Ani DiFranco. It’s still going.

 

The Labor Movement – I think you can find these sympathizers/organizers all the way back to traditional folk artists like Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly. Lesser known people like Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan. People fighting against their bosses, for the unions and for the workers. Punk rock has taken it on to some extent as well also. Dropkick Murphys for example.

 

The list goes on. But the air is ripe for movement once again. And it’s time we take of hold of the mic and once again speak the universal language of the downtrodden.

Change

When the guys of NOFX wrote in their hyperpaced early So-Cal anthem, “Screaming for Change” they weren’t exactly referring to the variety that makes your pockets jingle jangle. No, it was a change that, no doubt called for some sort of vague shakeup to this displeasure called existence. Whether it was politically motivated or not at the time, is questionable, given the band’s late entry into political statements. They were always better at contributing fast paced anecdotes to a “punk rock” vault of urgently high-adrenaline infused fun.

But my guess is no one screams for change with a light heart. In fact the word scream implies the opposite. But what change can come is not always desirable. I can only assume that their band was then issuing a blanket statement that we are all screaming for change. 

Now we have someone on the verge of taking the highest office in the known universe and he has theoretically heard this message of an ’80s punk outfit from L.A. At least we can assume. And we can hope. And hope is another one of those vague terms that strikes me oddly. We all want to believe that it’s there. Unless of course we are nihilists, in which case, sit still and don’t do a thing and your dreams will flourish rapidly before your existentially charred eyes. 

But even in the lowest of lows of which I have been in of late, it’s amazing how quickly hope can be restored by a simple change in weather. The crisp blue sky and brown crunchy leaves stuck to my poodle’s curly coat as he trots up the steps of my front porch while I have my morning coffee. The cool wind that always whips through our valley and through the trees near these houses right off the lake, the waking at an early sleep-deprived hour with the feeling that you can conquer the world today. It all helps usher in the arrival of fall. Only usually, I was on campus. And I had a more attainable portal to channel my energy into. Out here it’s at once everything man and it all encompasses. 

But rise above we will. 

Time to find a new portal. With the economy on the verge of collapse, there may be more chance than ever to prepare for the coming change. Get ready to make the most of your abilities and be industrious, because you may have to pick up the slack for businesses who are not quite as optimistic. 

So hope, as I did when I picked up the guitar this morning and wrote a song on the spot was useful this morning. It felt fantastic. Putting words to a tune on the guitar again. Something to summarize how horrible of a time this has been in certain ways. That alone got my day going. Well that and a damn good cup of coffee. 

This hope, if it keeps plugging along could turn into some good change. I don’t like the string of recent change that has been handed to me. But I was screaming for it. We’re mostly all, always screaming for it. Whether we know it or not. What I got in the form of change was challenge after challenge. A mother potentially near death, being laid off from a job that I did well, moving back home to play parent. All this change can pack a punch from which you don’t want to even stay on the mat. And don’t get me started on the love street I walked down until I saw it was a one way and had to turn around and hit the main again. We’re not going there today. We’re sticking to the boardwalk and watching the new tides. They’re always new. It’s what’s so great about them, unabashedly too. And as Milo and Otis have espoused their philosophy:

“We’re goin for a walk outside today, gonna see what we can find today…”

Okay, maybe the lyrical stylings of Mr. Greg Graffin from Bad Religion is best suited for this occasion: 

“I’m going for a walk. Not the after-dinner kind. I’m gonna use my hands. And I’m gonna use my mind.”

So go for a damn walk and then make some of your own hope for change. It’s the way I feel today. Forget the ruts you recently had run over. They’re behind you now. It’s time to go find that change you’ve been screaming for. 

 

The Beat

The beat. The GoGos have got it. Why can’t you get it? The journalist has their beat. The cop has their beat. A street sweeper has his beat. A good song has its beat. Your heart. I could go on and on.

 

It’s not always what you think. It can turn the most innocent of bystanders into the hardest of criminals. Someone caught in the wrong situation, fulfilling their daily routine, a jobber or a crook that slipped up. Who knows why we take the beats we do. There is no one right answer. Many times our beats are assigned, and others, we make our own. 

 

The latter would indicate that people pick the one that best suits themselves. But sometimes, a beat is not in a person’s best interest, and all of a sudden, your beat crosses the law’s beat. And remember, the law is that most well intentioned of things that get weaseled into a corner until it is forced to compromise. Right?

 

The law, on their beat will interfere with you at whatever opportunity it can find, when you are on your beat. Maybe even block your access to enhancing the public good by hiding the private bad.

 

The journalists’ beat is a tougher taco to make though. And with good reason. There’s very little consistency as I have already noticed in the news gathering grind. Sure you have to stick to what you’re assigned and stay on top of that and make that the focus. But often, stories come your way that force you to break outside that mold you have been melted into.

 

Brings us back to that age-old problem of knowing thyself. Know what you’re good at or know what your mission is. Know your best contribution. But take the time to know others’ as well. Step outside the norm and tackle topics that are tough and challenging. It’s all experience. And that’s the rub, as the good Doctor would say.

 

Also, consider that the word has so many meanings. The beat can be a good loud and fast show. A great thunderstorm of sound charging your battery for the road ahead. A beat, a melody, a lyric that inspires your beat can be just the thing to jump start your mission.

 

This blog is a skeleton, an idea ready for expansion. It needs your feedback. What is your beat? What is your daily experience and how can you expand that? And too, how can you make that experience weave a common tartan of existence that we all share? Tartans have combinations as intricate and infinite as the color spectrum will allow.

 

We all share at least one thing in common. We are all human. Even if aliens are among us, do they not also share the human experience as well? Find your beat. Know it, own it, share it daily.

 

 

 

 

Panic

One word: Don’t. From the zany science fiction universe of Douglas Adams to the experience that has the potential to unsettle us at any turn, we can all find reasons, rational or irrational to engage in this intensely unpleasant feeling. 

The new job has caused me to enter into brief moments of panic, but it’s all adjusting. It’s what we have to do. No matter if it’s adjusting to a mode of thought or a practice that we have to get acclimated to, from what I’ve seen, any uncertainty in an environment where certainty is required can trigger this feeling that your heart is thumping in your throat and your brain is firing senseless thoughts. 

No need to lose it. Pull it together. Get your bearings. Joke with others. Keep it comical. It will keep the stress from permanently eating away at your sanity. 

I’m finally getting the hang of crime reporting. The basics of what to include. Which reports to hold and which ones to move forward. I’ve gotta be honest here. It’s not my favorite realm of news, but it must be done. 

The panic that resulted from my first experience with reporting crime was part of the reason for the aversion to it. Now, it’s just a part of the job. The tight grip on your thudding heart will lessen. Face the unknown. Do what you’re unsure of. Burn out that uncertainty by facing it. If you don’t master it, at least you’re all the better and more sensitized to whatever you’re facing. 

And I think this can apply broadly. Take, for example someone who may be different than you are. Maybe you are the type that sticks to your own herd, in the workplace or at the backyard BBQ. Change this. Strike up a conversation with the guy or girl in the cubicle next to you. 

And it’s not just branching out, it’s how we respond in given environments. What factors affect your behavior in certain environments? Notice your trigger points and isolate those. Again, face them head on. 

And remember, don’t panic. 

Reality

Reality. It really is a ride on the bus. So many of us have our personalized versions and so many struggle to accept their own. But what is most important to gather from this is the understanding that while we have to accept our own ride on the bus, it helps to understand that many others are buying that ticket in their own way, if they can. And in some form, we all ride a bus and that’s why we’re in this thing together.

 

The job offer that I recently received at the local newspaper has contributed to the urgency that my ride is getting started and I should do everything I can to pay attention, for fear of missing my stop. So many times we may sleep right through it.

 

It was a rough first night. I attended the county commission meeting, hoping to make a good first impression. I met a good portion of the county government roster and spent most of my time connecting names to faces and giving my best go at remembering as many of them as possible. Things went well before the meeting.

 

The bad news? I walked back afterward, knowing that I had no story. I had entered into the middle of budget talks and found that what I thought I knew and had prepared for going into the meeting, was out the window. Nothing had happened. No votes, just discussion. Now what? Wait.

 

Recently, I graduated college. Right away, my version of reality snapped into place. The realizations were heavy and poignant. There was no more waiting on the next semester. This was the big game. The real deal. And sometimes, life intervenes in unexpected ways.

 

For example, the realization that has come my way is that we are fragile and mortal. And seeing my mother in her fight with cancer has solidified my goals a bit, by showing me that life is too short to just mosey through without a purpose. Though it took me a moment to accept that I was facing this real world everyone had been talking about for the majority of my college career, I was buying the ticket. I was finally getting on, taking my seat and preparing for the ride. I was getting on a bus where other people’s realities affect my own. Though it is family, I think you may see what I mean.

 

How are you getting ready for your ride? Do you have a ride? Does the road need repairs? Are you settling for a late bus, hopping the 99 to nowhere, maybe still standing out on the curb barking at people for taking the ride they’ve chosen? Maybe it’s because you’re still staring down the row of distractions that line the sidewalk and lure you away from your destination. I know I’ve had my moments with that walk.

 

If you don’t have a ride, some destination to look ahead to, no doubt there are many times you can’t afford the fare. It happens to us all.

 

This is not a problem that I can fix, but it is a problem we can care about and make others care about by shouting that you need a helping hand. And maybe if more of us chose to accept the reality that others have to live with, like homelessness, for example, we would be able to help everyone get a ride to somewhere. Reach out. There is a fellow passenger out there that will care.

 

I know it’s vague. I know this has been all over the place, but these are my thoughts in some form. And reality. This is just one simple word, but one that will hopefully make people think about not only their own situation, but others’ as well.

 

Sometimes forcing a word like reality to enter out minds, may help us to do that. It’s simple really. Because, what is reality to you, may be science fiction to someone without that ticket to the ride that’s waiting for them, until we take that ride together.