"...dumplings"

What does one call an old-time travel story.

This from a few years back. Once upon a time.

A year ago, my Dark Matter pocket watch. My sentient time

machine shut herself off. She's slept in my fridge since. The other afternoon she chimed and woke up.

October 22nd, 1148~CE, 5:36pm.

I portaled to what would one day be Virginia.

I came to watch the sun set.

Still. Quiet. I could hear the faintest breeze whistle in my ears. The buzz of every insect the step of every living thing near me. I sat in a pre-industrial evening. The sky empty of men was already filling with bright stars. I scented the aroma of ocean half a hundred miles away. If not for bears, I would have slept the night.

West 28th Street Manhattan...current time.

Smears of neon. Noise. Chaos.

I went to a Chinese take-out had dumplings, and tea.

"...each other"

The Holiday season the Yule is our pole star. One that the whole year revolves around. I remember back when cars were covered in chrome children could wander safely, and you could have TV in any color as long as it was black, and white. In that time before we jammed flags into da Moon and Mars. When online meant waiting to get into a movie. I remember Aunts, and Uncles tons of cousins' friends pouring into each other’s houses. These for the grand slams of Thanksgiving Christmas and the New Year.

I remember our house.

All dolled up our traditional six-foot tree the aroma of cooking. Decorations some going back to the early 1900's mixed with flashy electrics of the then 50’s. Dad, and the uncles all gathered in the daddy spots yacking guy stuff. Work sports the army…WW2 recently over. That and what routes they took to get out here. Most came on Eisenhower's new Interstates. I remember the railing paint was still fresh!

My Ma, and the aunts in the mommy space…the kitchen. Going on about how them uncles drove them totally crazy who was graduating college and who was having a baby. Babies. I remember babies showing up all the time. Endless new cousins even a new sister.

Meanwhile our dog Brownie was under the table listening. That’s what dogs do for kids. They listen to what’s really going on. Then tell all good girls, and boys what’s coming their way. Good Dog!

Presents.

Besides tearing the house and yard apart my siblings' cousins and I dreamed. We wondered at the neat stuff coming our way. Santa never let us down. …mostly. Still waiting for that dammed bike from 1959! Com'on Santa, you owe me. Despite gaffs we was seriously into that guy.

The Sears Roebuck Christmas catalogue that the mailman would slip us was an instruction manual for Yule heaven. We thought Santa ran Sears. At least at Christmas. ...made sense at the time.

Before the age of fast-food gluttony folks only pigged out once or twice a year. This was da deal for over a thousand years. Enter the Christmas Turkey aka Thanksgiving part two. It was swell. In this rant all the holidays morph together into one long meal...because it was.

My ma made this magical veggie stuffing. She was always ahead of the curve. Magic is da word. Yeah, there was static every kind of family has plenty but bleep it. It was the Yule. We was all gleefully stuck together in the weird but loving amber of family and friends.  We had each other. …and it mattered.

The House.

All gewgawed out. Collaged for Thanksgiving Christmas New Years missed birthdays and efforts at peace offerings. Life is complicated. Lights bright decorations cards on every surface. The aroma of cooking filled every room. Near every house. While playing outside we could smell the turkeys' pies cakes sauces everywhere every street.   Homelessness happened during the Depression and was over. It's cruel return was still decades away.  

Later we sat said grace meant it then the passing of food. All manner of wonders. Laughing the telling of stories, fights almost starting then fizzing out over cider. The damned electric trains chasing itself around the tree. The tree btw bright blinking it’s soul to heaven.  We were family we were friends we were together.

Remember these were Depression, and WW2 folks. Those that could made sure their kids had at least a taste of security. As my ma told me years later. She dad, and our aunts, and uncles. They gave us our cousins everyone good memories on purpose. They knew what desperation was, and what it did. They deliberately created a sense of harmony despite everything. They so loved us.

There was music. My family all sides played instruments. Before the digital era it was common for folks to play their own music. In them days This when ash trays were all over the place and integration was slowly becoming a good idea. Folks made their own music. Having instruments, and sheet music around da house was normal...as were manners.

We sang carols. My dad played the piano assorted uncles aunts accompanied on violin and viola. Everyone sang. Even me shy as I was. We really believed in things. Each other our country…even G-d.

Yule gatherings have been with us for 1000's years. Observed by many peoples around the world. It was nearly the first thing our species figured out...just after beer. Family friends gather at certain points in the year for a reason. A kindly one. In times like now with divisions war plague it's even more important. Keep Love in your hearts. Bless you all. Be brave be safe be wise be kind

“...fighting back”

I gots to say. #45 seems to have given the Dems a Senate majority...again.

What would we do without him. America is the greatest show on earth.

Btw there was an attempted some say Russian assisted neo-Nazi coup in Germany yesterday.

It was put down in what was called the largest anti-terror operation since WW2.

This time around Democracy is fighting back.

This time unlike the 1930's Democracy was ready. 

The German government is deliberately decentralized. 

They learned the hard way how easily democracies can be overthrown by a relative handful. 

So tailored their federal system to withstand another attempt...and it did.

Fortunately, Americans of the January 6th variety are Americans. 

Which means tho' enraged and passionate they're mostly uninformed and stupid. 

Our saving grace.

"...loss"

This is a note from a friend of a friend. I'll use no names to respect the privacy of all concerned. I just thought it important to record and save this personal missive from one about to leave us. And yes, it is cruel to keep person here against their will. They use all the tech they can to keep you alive. However not a thought to the quality of that life.

She writes ...I don’t know if I will keep posting. It is becoming increasingly difficult. If I do, it will likely be just a brief thought without a picture as todays post is. I spend more of my days napping. In anticipating my death, I had not imagined a long time of diminished capabilities during which my interests and books are not companions because of an inability to read much or communicate. I’ve learned that it is not possible for someone who has never been seriously dependent on others for help even with something like opening a bottle or package to imagine what the decline to death is like.

But I remember this is all just what it is—objective. My opinion is that it is unfortunate. My mood is accepting, but I wish death not to linger as I am ready. I regret that euthanasia is not possible for it is needed not just for pain (which I am not plagued by--yet anyway) but severe, growing disability.

This post is clearly for those who wanted the truth of my journey. The truth is that it is harder than I imagined as I did not imagine the loss of even basic capabilities like reading and doing simple tasks without help. And when there is no help available there are things that wait until help is available. When they shouldn't wait, they will still have to and there are limits to what friends can do or can be asked to do. They are not caretakers.

*I needed to read this again and post it again. This as a similar time is dawning within me. Have lost so many in recent years. Six just this year...I think I see a pattern. Life is good then it isn't. The road to it is hard but death is peace.

"...wonder"

Life and times. Lost six friends this year. From my radio and online life. Some were pals for decades. When your moment comes ...Puff. No movie scene. If you're of an age you know this.

Saw my first death when I was seven. An elder walking down our street fell. Literally just fell over. He had on such a nice suit. The things you remember. Ambulance came covered him up put his fedora on his chest. I remember it had a small stylish feather in the brim.

None of the kids that witnessed said anything. After a while we went back to playing. As Mr. Barrie author of Peter Pan said: 'Children are gay innocent and heartless." So we were. Yet I remember tho' it was 65 years ago. Now I wonder at the last moments of those I cared for.

I wonder at my own. In my journey it's got on time to wonder at these

"...home"

A passing moment at home. History is not a fantasy to be re-written when tastes change. History is not a wish not a dream. History is 'was'...it happened. Happened and can never be undone. Learned from but never denied. It's there exactly as it happened in every detail. No matter how many say it is not.

"...Alive"

Moments. I remember the Twin Towers. During my overnight shifts at a nearby radio station. I'd take breaks and stand on Maiden Laine. A colonial side street. I'd watch the Towers. They were blue green at night. They hummed as if alive. They sang as they reached to the heavens.

“...Yule”

I folded time-space. The experience is like passing through warm mist. The Shift set me in the shadow of the elm that once stood in front of my home. My childhood home. 8:46pm Tuesday December 23rd 1957~CE. It was snowing. Winters were colder then. A car with tail fins drove by. The lamps were dim. Sodium Oxide lights were years away. There was movement in the windows. Our Tree was going up. Bright blinking lights. I tried to take in this world during the brief seconds of my visit. A woman was on a ladder at the tree. My mother, an aunt? The front door was opening. A child! ...I vanished.

Needed to get da hell out of the 21st century so I folded time/space.

Kansas City October 24th, 2:46pm 1943~CE. 

I stumbled into an air raid drill. I forgot WW2. A cop shoved me down some stairs into a shelter. 'Colored Only'. I forgot Segregation too. Had ancestors in da Midwest back then. I looked around for family resemblances. It was just folks. Negros as we were called then. Doing our best and fighting for a better day. A few hipsters in Zoot Suits too…google them. Tho' they all eyed my NASA jacket, and Reeboks.  

After the all clear I went to a Nedicks for a hot dog, and orange drink. Ain’t had lunch in one’a them since I was little in the 60′s. Heaven. War time Kansas City. Soldiers everywhere posters for War Bonds. Real Jeeps drove by. We were united against a bigger enemy than our squabbles. 

Speaking of which. I was stopped by two white corporals at a recruiting table. Wanted me to sign up. Said there was plenty for even 'Coloreds' to do. I asked if da Army was still segregated. They stared dumb founded. The natural order questioned. Said I was a college grad so wanted officer training. One of them passed out. With that I went on my gleeful way. 

At a news stand I looked for “Fantastic Four” #1. Guy never heard of it. Seems I was twenty years early. Anyway, got a Hershey bar which was thicker ’n twice the size as ours. ...five cents! A giant bleeping B-17 bomber roared overhead. They weren't called 'aluminum overcasts' for nothing. They gave that paper hanger hell. 

My dark matter watch chimed. Went into a phone booth…changed to my secret identity. Time traveler. Warped phased or whatever back to the angry, and expensive American future.

"...1948"

Waiting for Macy's to open the day after Thanksgiving 1948. It's like they're going to the theater. Today they'd trample each other over half priced toasters. Back in da day many not only behaved better they dressed for success. I remember my dad wearing a jacket, and tie just to take me, and my sister to the park. No matter their means folks wore their best in public. How they appeared was a statement about their family and themselves. As I was taught: 'To respect others, you must respect yourself.' I miss that time. For all its injustice it was nonetheless a more civil, and civilized era. These were among the subtle underpinnings which made social progress possible.