BEATNIK SILENT(LY) FALTERS IN HIS SELF-DESIGNED HALTER

Maya Angelou

Woke this morning and my first thought was about Pat Sajak & China/India. The game show expert, in a recent denial of the idea of global warming, called those who support the idea that global warming must be halted, "Racists." A friend of mine, yesterday, wondered, "WHAT?" This morning, before I even arose from my bed to see what was the matter, I understood, the WHAT. If we don't allow India and China to develop their industrial might, millions will be doomed to poverty. Add millions in Africa too. They are peoples whose skin isn't tinted pink. Got it, friend? Those who use global warming as a reason to stop industrial development would, as a byproduct, become racists. Poor scientists. They come up with the facts and politics blindsides them with handfuls of shit. 

Sunshining Day

Then I get out of bed to find that Maya Angelou at 86 has died. Overwhelmed at 76, sitting with a paper before my eyes that blinds me to the sun-shining day outside my picture window, I feel old and tired but, mostly, sad. As I read Maya's lifetime of accomplishments, my petty goal to get someone other than myself to publish one book of mine before I die feels futile, impossible and, mostly, inept. A desire to abandon all thought, quit writing and sit in the sun, merely enjoying my continued existence, is overwhelming ... almost.