Giraffe Descant

I've been meaning for a few years now to sign up for something on the "national day of service" which many groups connect with MLK Day, but I never find something that really feels right. This year, after a few false starts on the Internet, I signed up for a project from San Francisco's African American Historical and Cultural Society, which seemed to have a lot of different options.

Just getting there was fun. They're in a neighborhood of San Francisco called the Western Addition (it's a historical name; it was added after the 1906 earthquake, but it's now kind of central). They had a nice orientation going, with lots of food, many sign-up sheets, an extremely friendly greeter, and a chance to admire their beautiful 3-story mural. I signed up for "neighborhood cleanup" at an intersection I didn't recognize, because lots of other people had signed up for it, and neighborhood cleanup sounded attractive.

After about 20 minutes of food and socializing, with King speeches on the PA system in the background,we had a short rally. The director of the Center did some introductions and some thank-yous, a local minister led us in a nonsectarian, very MLK-centered prayer, Lateefah Simon, a woman who grew up in the neighborhood and is now Executive Director of the Lawyers Committee for civil rights, gave a short and genuinely inspiring speech. Brandon Hughes gave one of King's own speeches in defense of nonviolence, very well indeed.

Then we scattered onto waiting Muni buses (acting as shuttle buses) for our various tasks. When we got to mine, I knew I had made a wrong choice for me. The "neighborhood cleanup" was actually clearing brush and litter off a hill that goes from the edge of a low-income neighborhood down to a major thoroughfare. Apparently, we were part of a neighborhood project that was effectively park cleanup. There's nothing wrong with park cleanup, or with neighborhood projects but, as one gentleman getting off the bus with me said, "What's this got to do with Martin Luther King?" I could see lots of ecological and aesthetic value to what people were doing, but it was poorly organized (no one was in charge or giving any kinds of instruction or guidance) and deeply invisible--because they gave out orange vests, anyone walking or driving by would probably think it was city workers (the ones that are left) doing their job.

I took a bag of garbage and started picking up what I could find, though the accessible areas had been pretty picked over. I went down a long flight of stairs because it looked like there might be more useful work at the bottom of the hill, and there was, but the space had been taken up by a few people who had brush-clearing machinery and the sidewalks were impassable. I went back up the flight of stairs, filled my garbage bag so I'd feel like I'd done <I>something</i> and headed home.

Not to fault the AAHCU. I could easily have picked another task. I could have asked more about this one. And not to fault the neighborhood cleanup crew, who were doing good work. Managing volunteers is a skill and, because to some degree I have it, I'm fussy about it. But not every group has it, or even knows it's a skill.

I'm not at all sorry I went. Next year, I'll probably sign up in the same place and ask more questions. Meanwhile, I'm now on the Center's mailing list, and I bet interesting things will turn up from that.

And I did a few errands, came home and took a long nap, and am now going to do laundry and dishes.

 Now that we've rung in 2012, it's time to remind y'all that FOGcon 2 is coming up in three months.

The theme for this year is "the body," and we're collecting programming suggestions (about the body, or anything else appropriate for a mostly-book-focused science fiction convention) here. Once programming suggestions close (probably in a week or two, and we'll announce it), then we'll put up a list of programs so you can volunteer to be on various panels and other program items.

The best news is that our honored guests are Nalo Hopkinson (nnaloh) and Shelley Jackson!  We couldn't ask for more exciting guests, and both of them have a lot to say about the theme.

We'll be at the Marriott Walnut Creek, March 30-April 1, 2012. The Marriott is a really nice hotel, about a 15-minute walk from the Walnut Creek BART station, and an easy drive from almost anywhere in the Bay Area. The hotel runs a shuttle to downtown Walnut Creek, which has a veritable cornucopia of restaurants and shops.

Everyone had a great time last year, and we anticipate a wonderful time this year. Please register, suggest programming, sign up for programming (when we're ready for you) and come join us!

It wasn't convenient for me to attend the solstice party I was invited to, so pokershaman and I are home, and I'm getting things done. But let me take a moment to wish you all a very happy return of the sun (solstice was three minutes ago as I write). May the triumphs and celebrations of the last year be enhanced, and the difficulties be minimized, for each and every one of you.

Who shut down the port? We shut down the port?

So I got up at 4:20 this morning, took a quick shower and threw on my warmest clothes, which I had set out before going to sleep. Despite leaving the house on time, I missed the BART train I was aiming for, but still got to the West Oakland BART as a surprisingly large number of people were coalescing for the "shut down the West Coast ports" action. I would say that there were roughly 200 occupiers at the BART at slightly after 5:30. One woman I spoke to said she saw two Homeland Security officers at the West Oakland BART with the BART police, but that she talked to them and they denied that their presence had anything to do with the port action; they were just protecting BART. Sure, there's always Homeland Security guys at West Oakland at 5:30 a.m.

The organizers were encouraging some folks to take shuttles to the port (which is about a mile and a half from the BART station), as an early arriving group. I kind of wanted to walk, but I got on a shuttle (which turned out to be a good choice). On this shuttle were about 20 people, including a two-person crew from Real News Network, and folks from Seattle, Davis, and Monterey, as well as the locals. Police cars shadowed the shuttles and we thought we might not get in to the port, but we weren't stopped.

We got out in the dark (not as cold as I had feared, but not warm) and folks immediately started walking in a circle in the driveway to one of the docks. I was talking to a man who asked me to help hold a Teachers Union banner, which I did for a while. He turned out to be the son of the legendary Bill Mandel, whose KPFA broadcasts (and the fight over whose firing) I remember well. Lots of people on bicycles were part of the early contingent. From the beginning, we had at least 100-150 people in our area (Berths 30-32), which was one of three or four being blockaded. Most were picketing, but some were standing in the street, or watching from the sidelines.

Caitlin, one of the action organizers, explained that we needed at least 100 people at every dock entrance we were blocking, walking steadily in a circle because "that's what a picket line is," which not everyone understood. She also told us that the ILWU shift starts at 7 (at this point, it was about 6 or 6:15) and that the workers had been told to stand by. At some point in the morning, an arbitrator would decide whether or not the port was a "health and safety risk" and if she or he decided it was, tell the workers not to come in at all for the day shift. She said that could happen between 7:30 and 12:30, and that our best strategy was to keep the picket circles moving until the decision was made.

So we did. There were chants and some music and rhythm sections. The sun came up. whittles showed up. Some people were handing out hardboiled eggs, and later apple pastries. After a while, some folks came by with coffee, tea, and soup (maybe they were from Food Not Bombs? one of the coffee urns had an FNB label). Picketing is tiring, but there were interesting conversations everywhere and the mood was cheery, especially once it got light. There was very little action at the port itself: one man (later identified as "management") walking around and texting, an occasional vehicle coming <I>out</i>, but none coming in.

The crowd was mostly (but by no means entirely) white, with a wide variety of ages, probably equally men and women.

Some folks were angry at a couple of protesters who were actively "blocking" a gate--standing in front of it--instead of picketing. ("A couple of people like that can ruin this for all of us!") The organizers kept pushing us to picket, but didn't seem to be policing anyone else's choices, and it later got funny. News was well distributed: we got reports on what was happening at other sites in the port, and also up and down the coast. I haven't checked any news yet, but it does sound like there were successful actions from Seattle to San Diego, although apparently there was police trouble in San Diego as well.

Somewhere around 9, we were encouraged to tighten up the picket lines and find partners, because there were "55 sheriffs in riot gear" not far away. By then, a few men had climbed up a nearby sign identifying the shipping lines that use the port (maybe about three stories tall). The protester who was blocking the gate had gone to join them, and had left his two signs across each other and the gate as a block. When the guys on the top of the sign announced that the sheriffs were moving away, Mr. Gate-Blocker came back and was deeply indignant that his signs were gone! When he put replacements back, he labeled them "Do not remove." I think he's really not clear on the concept of direct action and individual decision-making, but I refrained from explaining this to him.

At one point when I was off to the side, I ended up chatting with Caitlin, who was <I>thrilled</i> at how things were going, and also told me that the international management of the ILWU was the source of the persistent rumor that this action was unpopular with port employees. She sounded convincing, and I'm going to check out what she told me.

I wandered off to use the bathroom, to find that there was one (foul) portapotty with a long line. Several people, unconnected to one another, told me that the police had cordoned off the good bathroom in the park for their use and were not letting protesters use it, but I didn't go check that out. I was going to sit for a while after getting through the line, but the energy was heating up again. This time, there were about 20-25 sheriffs in riot gear just on the other side of the fence from the bigger of the two picket lines where we were. They were maybe 50 yards away, behind a chain-link fence that they could open. So it felt important to keep picketing, even though my legs and feet were definitely feeling the 3+ hours of walking. I was watching the cops carefully; they kept varying how many of them had their visors down--sometimes it was few of them and sometimes most of them, but never all. When you worry is when they all put their visors down at the same time. Some folks were doing street theater in the space between the picket line and the cops.

After about 20 minutes of this, folks in the crowd started getting texts that the arbitrator had ruled in our favor and the day shift was closed down. Caitlin encouraged us to stay for another 15 minutes until the word was final, and shortly thereafter it was. At that point, most of the protesters dispersed, though some stayed to watch a couple of berths where there were apparently workers who had come in before we got there.

On the long walk back to the BART station, I talked to a bunch of people. I saw a young woman give up her place in a car to a disabled older woman. I had a longish talk with a passionate young woman from the Black Block (the avowedly violent protesters) and learned a lot from her. I liked her a lot better than the gate blocker.

And then I came home. Another, probably much larger, contingent will do the same thing this afternoon for the next shift, but I think I'll be kind to my feet.

Next step for me is, I hope, getting more involved in the movements to stop individual foreclosures. So far, I've only dipped one toe in those waters.

*roll over sleepily, open one eye, peer at clock*

6:30 is a little earlier than I'd like, but not a bad time to wake up.

*something mechanical emits a cheeping sound*

I can take my time getting out of bed.

*cheep* *cheep*

Wait, is that noise coming from inside the house?

*cheep* *cheep*

Oh, I remember that noise. What is it? Low battery on a smoke detector?

*cheep*
'
Yeah, maybe that's it. Guess I should go figure out which one.

*cheep* 

*go stand under the smoke detector in the hallway, the easiest one to get to with the stepstool*
*decide it's cheeping*

*cheep* *not from the one in the hall*

Could two of them be cheeping at the same time?

*go find 9-volt batteries* Good, there are three of them.

*go stand under the one in the hall again*

*cheep* *cheep* *from two different directions*

*go fetch stepstool*

*go into pokershaman 's room* *look dispiritedly at the papers and other junk under the smoke detector* 
*CHEEP!*

*dispiritedly move the papers and other junk under the smoke detector*

*CHEEP* *cheep*

Damn, it definitely is two of them.

*set up stepstool* *dismantle smoke detector* *remove battery*
*attempt to attach replacement battery*

*cheep*

I can't do this standing on the stepstool; it takes too much concentration for this hour of the morning.

*step down, sit down, attach replacement battery*
*cheep*
*climb back up and close up smoke detector*

*cheep*

*move stepstool to my room*

*dispiritedly move smaller amount of papers and other junk*

*CHEEP*

*set up stepstool, climb up, decide it's about three inches too far away*
*climb down, move stepstool, climb up*

*CHEEP*

*dismantle smoke detector, climb down*

*cheep*

Oh, shit! Maybe it has a couple of leftover cheeps and then it stops?

*remove and replace battery*
*sit on my bed for two minutes enjoying the silence*

*climb up and close smoke detector*

Well, at least this is worth a post.

I just looked at my g-chat list of who's available right this minute. Most of these are not people I chat with, but just people I have exchanged mail with through g-mail. Nonetheless, right at the moment, the list of people online whom I could ping at any moment consists of:

A Russian expat female tech geek and poker player living in the U.S.
A transgender woman with a flourishing e-publishing business
A recent chair of WisCon
A lesbian mom (and tech geek)
A Google employee (and tech geek)
An ex-microbiologist turned conflict facilitator in Croatia
A Muslim/Arab science fiction writer

I love my life. Just sayin'.

It is such a pleasure to be hanging out with the lovely and gracious kightp in her home in Central Oregon. Since pokershaman and I got here on Wednesday (on the train, on the train, on the train!) we have eaten well, conversed well, relaxed well, and been well taken care of.

Last night, we went out for dinner with saoba and irismoonlight and their gentleman friends. The restaurant has small plates, entrees, and a full bar plus desserts, so we managed to spend a good number of hours with various combinations of food and drink, and lots of pleasant talk, includingsaoba 's very memorable story of her close encounter with Van Halen. Then we went off to other friends of Pat's to see if we could see the supernova ... and after much fussing and triangulating, we could! The owner of the telescope turns out to be an amazing man, who is building high-end beautifully designed milled orreries and other gear and mechanical objets d'art et de science in his home workshop. I could have listened to him for hours (in fact, we listened to him for about one hour). Utterly perfect.

Today we get on the train (i.e., Amtrak bus) to Portland for a small convention/party hosted by science-fiction community people, followed by time in Portland with our process-work community people. And then to Seattle for ... more time with people. Can you tell I planned this trip? But it will also be punctuated with a reasonable amount of quiet time, including the trips between cities.

1) I am feeling all smug and virtuous (and in surprisingly good physical shape) because my soon-to-be-new downstairs neighbor and I hauled two truckloads of stuff out of the house and garage yesterday (with various help, including a very useful TaskRabbit), and still with a lot of our own sweat, and we did it all and I feel pretty good today.

2) pokershaman and I are taking an almost-two week train trip to various points in the Pacific Northwest. I am looking forward to the trip, but I am so excited about not getting on an airplane that the airline industry should worry. We are going to central Oregon to see kightp for a couple of days, and then to a celebration hosted by kateyule and davidlevine in Portland, and then staying in Portland to see process work people. (My therapist is in Portland, and we almost always meet by phone, so it's great when we're actually in the same place.)   Then we are going to Seattle to see my family (and janeehawkins, roadnotes and baldanders , and probably other folks). Then we are coming back on the train! Did I mention that we're taking the train?

3)  I keep meaning to write a post about the BART protests, which are causing a lot of frustration and anger among BART passengers. Back in the day, we thought the most important thing about protests, whether disruptive or otherwise, was raising awareness and attempting to bring people in to the issues. This particular set of protests is virtually silent on the issues. There are no people with signs. There are no leaflets. I personally am not even sure if the current nominal issue is the death of Charles Blair or the shutdown of cell-phone service at the first post-Blair demonstration.  I'm sure the disruptors are having fun, and I personally find it amusing to see how little they have to do to "disrupt BART," since the BART management is more than happy to do their work for them, but the political impact is nil to negative.   And since I'm so exercised over the cell-phone service shutdown (and deeply unhappy about the deaths), I want to see political impact.

4)   I am too overscheduled with fun things to have any idea how I will be ready for the trip. I just have to take my ability to get things done in the crevices on faith, I guess.

How are you?

Worldcon is more or less starting in Reno as we speak, but pokershaman and I are here to see friends and are going home tonight, long before the festivities really get going. We're visiting dancingsinging and her family, and today they took us to their farm share, just over the border into California. We have a CSA membership with Terra Firma Farm, and we went up last fall for their Farm Day festivities, but this is a completely different experience.

Terra Firma grows fruits, vegetables, and nuts. Girl Farm grows some vegetables (in a much drier and less cooperative climate) and raises animals: chickens, turkeys, pigs, goats, and cows for sure, and I think maybe also sheep. Terra Firma has 1400 subscribers, more or less. They deliver to many locations in the Bay Area. Your boxes are not customized--you get what's growing. My office has gotten used to the beets. :-) Girl Farm is hoping to have 20 member families, who can pick and choose their vegetables from what's available, and who also get chickens, eggs, and meat. You have to drive out once a week to get your share, and if you want chickens, you have to help with the "harvesting" (clearly a word chosen for its palatability to suburban or urban customers). When you go up, you're greeted by one of the farmers, who knows all the kids, takes you around to show you some of the livestock, and chats cheerfully about what's happening on the farm. Today, they were installing a large worm farm behind the chicken barn. The whole model is about making personal relationships with a small number of members who are looking for more connection with the land and their food. It's obviously wonderful for the kids to have a farm that they know well enough to run around in, pigs that they know by name, baby chickens they can hold ... and the difficult but realistic experience of eating a roast made from a piglet that you saw a week after it was born.

dancingsinging 's husband J. is a novice beekeeper, and his hive is installed about half a mile from Girl Farm. He took us out to show it off, and lent us bee veils. Their 5-year-old daughter wears a full bee suit. He took the hive apart and showed us the different activity on the various frames. He was stung once (the second time he's been stung since he started this process) but the rest of us were unscathed. Both the actual hive and his excitement about it were fascinating. I've seen beehives before, mostly in nature museums, but I've never gotten up close and personal with one, and I also understand the system a lot better now.

We came back to Reno (well, Sparks, really) dry and dusty and happy.

So I'm spending the night with a sick friend, which is another, longer post, but not this post.

And said friend has a recliner massage chair with a remote control, good for sleeping in.

And the remote control, aside from all the massage-y buttons, has two buttons labeled "Down" and "Up." To me, "Down" is the one I would press to go back to a sitting position, i.e., to let my feet down. And "Up" would be the one I would press to put my feet up. But these buttons work the other way. I finally figured out that they should be labeled "Lie Down" and "Stand Up." But I still mess them up every time.