An imaginary essay

I had planned to write a prize-winning essay about American URBAN values after Sarah Palin’s acceptance speech when she said, “A writer observed: ‘We grow good people in our small towns, with honesty, sincerity, and dignity’” (the “writer” being Westbrook Pegler, an anti-Semite and proponent of assassinating FDR and Robert Kennedy). I got sidetracked from writing and since then have read two good columns on this topic, one by the Chicago Tribune's Steve Chapman and one by the L.A. Time's Rosa Brooks.



After Palin’s speech about the "pro-America areas of this great nation," I climbed back up on my high horse. But as the election is thankfully only 5 days away, I don't think I'll get my essay written and published in time, so I'll just dump my ideas here for my 2 or 3 faithful readers.

Here were some of my possible frameworks:

MY NEIGHBORHOOD Saint Anthony Park is one of the most liberal neighborhoods in the nation--we not only have Obama and Franken signs in almost yard, we still have Wellstone signs! Yet we sponsor an all-America, old-fashioned Fourth of July Festival with a parade featuring Girl and Boy Scouts, Neighbors for Peace, kids on decorated bikes and wagons, lawnmower brigades, politicians, nursing home residents, and dogs in red, white, and blue.

A WEEK IN A CITY DWELLER’S LIFE
Here I would describe some of the activities in which I participate. For example, last week I went to my community education yoga class, took part in a pot-luck Shakespeare reading through a neighborhood arts group, took a free bird watching class at a state park, took advantage of several libraries and bookstores, and played in an amateur band. This doesn’t even count such ‘elitist’ urban opportunities as access to professional theater, orchestras, opera, ballet or exotic restaurants.

WRAPPED IN THE FLAG
The idea would be to focus on one Lex-Ham Community Band concert. Of interest would be the diversity of the band (age, race, background, political bent, talent), the types of places we play and why, the people in our audiences, and our performance of music by American composers from Irving Berlin to Henry Mancini. I’d write a stirring conclusion about ending a summer concert at Lake Como with Sousa’s Stars and Stripes Forever with the audience standing and clapping along.

Isn't self-publishing wonderful?

Paying it forward or something like that

A while back my mother asked me to write a letter to the Pioneer Press for her. I tried to get out of it, saying that none of my letters to the editor had been published in the last decade, but she pleaded and I gave in. The topic was John McCain's call for 45 new nuclear reactors so the letter required some research and time--but lo and behold, it was published! It was gratifiying and galling at the same time, as I'd finally had something published but under someone else's name.

Last week, the Strib's Katherine Kerstin wrote an unusually bad column (even for her) and Joel remarked it sounded like a satire from The Onion. I stole his idea, dashed off a one-sentence letter, and it was published today! So now I feel my karma has evened out (even if Joel has been left shortchanged).

And what does this mean?

Joel's fortune cookie last night: "You will make many changes before settling down happily."

Business-discouraging fortune cookies

Our favorite Asian restaurant seems to have bought a new barrel of naggy fortune cookies. Last week Joel got one that said, "Enjoy yourself and eat dessert! Three times a week is okay" (a week??!) And yesterday mine read "Work on improving your exercise routine."

Audrey II

I managed to keep our cheap Christmas pointsettia alive until spring, when I planted it in the garden. It provided green filler for an empty space. Now I am going to try to get it to bloom for Christmas 2008 by following instructions on the Internet. It requires TOTAL darkness for 14 hours every day (many warnings about not letting even a moonbeam touch it) and 6-8 hours of bright sunlight. Unfortunately, the plant has grown into a monster, albeit a healthy and well-shaped monster. Today Joel and I managed to get it into a pot and upstairs, where we will slide it in and out of Liv's old closet twice daily, using an old towel to protect the floor. Sound like more trouble than it's worth?? Think we'll remember our duties every day???

And how many college-age children get displaced from their old room by a plant?