the election and baseball in philadelphia or, the politics of excitement

waking up this morning in west philadelphia, i lay in bed singing: i remember halloween, this day anything goes...happy halloween everybody. there's a really special urgency enveloping this city with the phillies winning the world series the night i arrived (celebratory riots unsuing), the subsequent victory parade occupying center city as i write this, inumberable halloween parties, shows, and haunted houses later this evening, and of course the looming presidential election that has brought pennsylvania into the spotlight as a so-called swing state. folks here are on the pulse of it all, spinning the wheel of history during this exciting moment.

even though it is a really special time to be here, i feel alienated from a lot of it. these four nights will be my longest visit to the city of "brotherly love" so i am very much so a mere visitor, an outsider. but i am flirting with relocating here in the very near future. maybe this weekend is my proper initiation?

i am excited for phillies fans, but i can't sincerely express that same excitement myself since i didn't even follow the series at all. maybe next year i will study up on the team and attempt to become a fan--except during interleague play against the red sox. i kind of feel the same way about the election and specifically the obama campaign. i don't want john mccain to be president, just as i didn't want the tampa bay rays (who beat the sox in the acls) to be the world champs. but i don't share the passion for obama and his politics that a lot of folks here, and across the nation, have been catalyzed by. i will be excited for them when he is elected (presumably in a landslide, depending on how much funny business the republican machine deploys) next week, but i will not be sincerely excited about his victory, just relieved.

i think we all deserve something more: collective liberation, a fundamentally new society, not just a new commander-in-chief with a gentler vision of empire. i will be more excited by the work people are doing toward actualizing the former than an election that will be over in 4 days. this work will persist well beyond november 4th. of course, i recognize that some of the policies of a new democratic administration will have real, positive impacts on lives across the world. but i still think we need to dream of a an even bigger change. to: "be realistic. demand the impossible."

a different kind of foliage: disaster and resistance

when i was in college, the activist lending library had a copy of seth tobocman's classic book you don't have to fuck people over to survive. that was my first introduction to this legendary nyc-based political artist who founded the still-vital publication world war 3 illustrated. during my junior year i went down to brooklyn with my roommate jon for the release party of tobocman's latest book portraits of israelis and palestinians. his unique political art has always taken on the most pressing issues of the day with an often devasting honesty.

so with all of this respect i have for him and his work, i was excited to see that he would be visiting the pioneer valley this month with the release of his newest book disaster and resistance: comics and landscapes for the 21st century (ak press). i was even more excited when erika from food for thought books e-mailed me about having seth on my radio show the day before the event! touring with his nyc friends, erik blitz and steve wishnia who play drums and bass while seth performs pieces from his books, they had a couple events in holyoke over the weekend with local artist and fellow world war 3 editor rebecca migdal at paper city studios.

on monday morning, after my interview on parapolitics with tommi avicolli mecca was aired, the whole crew squeezed into the cozy valley free radio studio. i was a little anxious about having live music on my show since it would be the first time, but it went really well. rebecca performed a piece about indigenous struggles in belize based on her recent trip there. seth followed with his account of the resistance in new orleans' lower ninth ward following hurricane katrina. the last half of the the show featured a conversation with all of them about these issues, and the challenge of artisits and activists following their passions under capitalism. they followed me over to the cafe where i work afterwards for a less formal discussion.

it was great to see the performances accompanied by visuals last night at food for thought. i wish i had gotten their a little earlier to participate in the stencil-making workshop for youth, but i had still had a really great time. it was one of those events that left me feeling inspired and connected to something bigger--a global movement of people dedicated to changing the world.

a different kind of foliage: avanti popolo

this past weekend was declared to be the peak of the fall foliage in western massachusetts. the weather was perfect, hiking trails amidst the radiantly changing leaves were over-crowded beyond capacity. i didn't get to fully appreciate and participate in all of this as much as i would've like to, but the past week has seen a different, aseasonal sort of vibrancy.

last tuesday i conducted a phone interview at vfr, along with parapolitics co-host keely malone, with san francisco's tommi avicolli mecca, co-editor of the new anthology avanti popolo: italian-american writers sail beyond columbus. tommi talked about the importance of italian-americans to reclaim their history and heritage by rejecting the genocidal legacy of columbus in favor of more admirable italian-americans such as anarchist martyrs nicola sacco and bartolomeo vanzetti. "i prefer to call this holiday sacco and vanzetti day." tommi also talked about coming out as queer--live on televsion(!)--when he was an undergrad at temple university in the 1970's and the backlash he endured from his conservative family. that story was told after he read one his poems featured in the book about his father.

on monday, as some americans celebrated "columbus day" we broadcasted this interview. that evening there were 3 events nationwide--in san francisco, new york, and philadelphia--celebrating the release of avanti popolo, with contributing writers from each city performing pieces from the book, published by manic d press. i want to thank my friend james tracy, another contributor and co-editor of the book, for contacting me about making this happen. dump columbus!

leaving empty lives

"The truth is that I don't necessarily want things to get easier, because things that are easy also tend to be safe and boring." -Give Me Back zine, issue #4

i open my eyes and it's fall of '99 all over again. my body is propelled out of bed with ease, in unison with the sunrise on barely 5 hours of sleep. a couple days worth of clothing, a toothbrush, zines, a book, my walkman, and some mixtapes are all packed and ready to go for the absurd journey ahead. prophetic lines are sung to me in my headphones, the soundtrack to this moment recreating itself 9 years later:

i need a way to measure the distance/my fury's rising faster than bus-fares

wake up and pack your bag/to whom it may concern/there's a bus that's leaving half an hour from now/it won't take her where she really wants to go/so she sits there with her luggage at her side/leaving empty stations, leaving empty lives

there's no question that it was worth it, despite everything. i dream of timelines, maps, completed to-do lists with love notes on the back. the pros and cons of starting over, of beginning a new life bounce back and forth like a frantic ping pong match. right now, everything seems to be pointing to: yes. a new year holds the promise of new possibilities. and this is scary. but i'm more scared of staying safe. safe and bored.

reclamation

the windows in my bedroom are finally closed so i can hear the tick/tock of the clock that i forgot about over the hum of traffic. the calendar has been turned once again and now the word reclaim hangs above my head. everything is really coming together right now as my life begins to shift in new, exciting directions. the urgency of fall has arrived. i take on the weight of the elements fearlessly, even if i can only find left-handed gloves in my ghastly overflowing closet.

i want to be present for all the people in my life that are dealing with heavy shit right now...and that seems to be nearly everyone i'm close to. i'm here. fueled by the strength of autumn.

promise

i realized the other day that i hadn't even thought about the fact that the summer is over and i'm not going back to school. that first september after college was so strange and significant after 17 years in a row of institutional learning. 5 years later now, it doesn't even cross my mind. i'm excited for all of my friends who are back in school to pursue their dreams, but going to continuing on the path of "higher education" just doesn't make sense to me; at least not right now. it would just be something to do. but there are so many other things that i would rather being doing!

since i turned the page on my bedroom calendar and the word of the month changed from ambush to promise it has seemed like the pace of time has been fundamentally altered. i wake up before 9 am, but just lay there listening to news radio. there's no urgency to get out of bed like there was just a couple weeks ago. this morning i listened to awkward tributes to the victims of the 9-11 attacks 7 years ago and thought about how incredible the weather always is this week. and it is. but the irresistable force of summer adventure has seemed to have slipped through my fingers these past couple weeks. bike rides are just not the same. i don't feel invincible anymore. but the last thing i want to do is live in the past or be held captive by some potential future. for the the immediacy of the summer was all about living in the present moment, not obsessing over fears, and just going for it.

writing down the late-summer bones

the growing piles of books, zines, and overdue bills are threatening to crush me as i attempt to write again. the sheets from both beds in my room are in the dryer downstairs, dirty clothes strewn across the floor. the breeders on the stereo. i've returned to pre-summer stoicism as i breathe in change with each late-summer breath of air. i embrace change as a defense mechanism. change is exciting, both in the shifting trivialities of daily life and the potential of large scale social change--the new society beating in all of our hearts. but change is also really fucking scary. we have to numb ourselves sometimes.

i watch videos of the street protests happening in denver and st. paul against the major u.s. political parties and their conventional spectacles. four years ago i was in new york city during the republican national convention, participating in the critical mass bike ride with over 10,000 others. the idea of going to the twin cities this year was never an option. it's not desirable to me anymore to travel such distances for political uprisings. of course, i'm in solidarity with the actions going on this week and also in denver last week. i guess i'm just not a 20 year old student activist anymore. working toward the creation of alternatives is more appealing to me at this point than following around the global elite in dissent. i'm grateful for those who do. it's just not where i'm at right now.

the sort of change that is in the air here, in this peculiar valley of ours, binds us all together. flights leave for seattle and berlin, while others return from reno and oakland. we commiserate about the return of the students. we celebrate the return of better live music and the approaching beauty of autumn. change is in our water supply. it's in the first leaves to change color and fall to the ground. we commiserate and celebrate.

the enormity of cupcakes and bunnies

some experiences are just too big, too powerful to reduce to the limitations of the written word. this is partially why i haven't written much lately. everything has just been so intense, so otherworldly, so big. language could never do this moment justice.

the moment ended less than an hour ago with a bus station goodbye straight out of the most heart-wrenching 80's movie ever produced. but there are no goodbyes, only see-you-laters. an ending opens up into a new beginning. just the beginning of something even more magical, something even bigger.

i bet most of the people you know enjoy busrides

in southern new hampshire it got cold after the sunset. cold in a way that i haven't felt in months, that first sensation that the summer has begun to recede. the days getting shorter, the fall looming in the near future. i learned that there are two kinds of people in this world: those that enjoy busrides and those who don't. burn collector #13 entertained me on the ride home this afternoon, after the anxiety produced by the greyhound being 45 minutes late. al burians tales of travel misadventures in germany, after a much-feared family reunion there, made me like i had gone through more than the 90 minute ride from keene to northampton. there was the brief stop in greenfield in which i got off the bus to hand my brother an envelope only to get right back on, but it wasn't that eventful beyond that sketchy act. now, i'm happy to be home. ready for another adventurous weekend after a nice contemplative get away.

complete control

woke up this morning craving the clash, knowing it would be a good day. it was a gut feeling. now i have this nice block of time to be alone in my bedroom, to confront the things i have been avoiding for weeks, months, years. laundry drying downstairs, the clash on my turntable. i put a new E string on my neglected guitar and it wasn't even on my to-do list. my arms and fingers just made it happen, as if it was a physical need like drinking water or defacating. this summer needs music! i flip the record over for the third time and anticipate a fun night ahead.

saturday night theater

tonight we celebrated the 3 year birthday of valley free radio. it was this week 3 years ago that the station went on the air during the grassroots radio conference and barnraising facilitated by the prometheus radio project. we sat along the canal in holyoke squinting our eyes, pretending we were in venice for a night. veggie meatballs and frozen cream puffs on the grille. tomorrow is a performance of the taming of the shrew at heather's farm in the berkshire's, featuring a number of evolution characters, blueberry-picking-brunch, and the cafe will be closed to accomodate the show. another anniversary was passed recently, that being my one year working there. honestly, i never thought it would last this long. i'd like to find something new before the year's end but it is so comfortable and mindless. but on the downside...it's so comfortable and mindless. i receive e-mails about ak press hiring again and i fantasize about the bay area. but really, all i can think about is west philly. drool, drool...

in my secret place

i want to take you far from the cynics in this town and kiss you on the mouth...

the sappiest indie-pop songs make so much sense right now, like they're in synch with the pulse in my left wrist. really, i'm just happy that my bike was where i left it last night after the rain began. it's always a gamble leaving it downtown after sunset. my heart skipped a beat as i turned that corner only to find it leaning against the street sign, a little wet but still fully alive. abandoned but forgiving, ready to ride again. it's gonna be a good day. i can feel it.

playgrounds

i could've been in new york city today, rescuing long-lost bicycles from brooklyn alleyways; or in brattleboro, vermont reading anonymously in coffeeshops and climbing mountains with local superheroes. but instead i'm just here, breathing. i'm wiping the cobwebs off of the growing pile of adult responsibilites multiplying on top of my desk. well, at least in theory. i'm actually sitting in the lamest cafe in town with a dozen other alienated souls, all secretly hoping that one of us will sink each other's electronic battleships. then we could all escape this strange, artificial keyboarded and flat screened world for something fresher, something that we can actually taste and smell.

i'm facing a wall of greeting cards and i think about all of the belated greetings i should be sending across the country. i haven't forgotten about you. i'm just lazy. really, i still care. in simpler times we could just leave cryptic messages on poles and 'spaceship' walls on the playground. two sets of initials added together, sketched into the paint and metal, surrounded by hand-drawn penises and titles of 80's movies. we were part of a secret club that never had to rely on hallmark logos or fancy fonts.

we returned there last night and proudly added our own messages to this twisted tapestery of scribbles and lewd comments. time stopped. and every whisper pierced our ears, as we lay there just waiting to get caught.

ambush august

july is over and so far this new month, labeled ambush on my nikki mcclure calendar, has relentlessly deprived me of alone time. things have been really exciting but i need to stop and think in order to fuel everything else. but i can't get enough of it all. sometimes i'll give myself a quick thought break by spending a little extra time in the bathroom to sing a song in the mirror, or i'll show up early to the after-party and just lie down in the middle of the street watching shooting stars. these are the moments that sustain the passion.

inquire within

sometimes you just need to shave your head and write up a to-do list. inhale. exhale. move forward. there's a break in the rain and i need to go take advantage of that shit. you'll probably see me from heavy traffic, singing at the top of my lungs. i want to make it all happen. now. or just give me a week to let my thoughts germinate. grow, grow, grow. then watch out. ohhhhhh! i have to go, but just wait...

both sides of the river

when you live in a valley, the notion of horizon and the actual time of the sunset are pretty blurry, imprecise. you have to climb to the top of one of the surrounding hills or mountains to have a more authentic perception of the day's end. last night i found myself on top of mt. skinner, celebrating my roommate pete's birthday. gazing out beyond the valley below from the porch of the summit house i saw the horizon. the sun set prematurely under the cluster of thick clouds in the distance, but i can honestly say that i witnessed the sunset.

today i biked to the medows, the flat expanse of farmland that winds around the opposite side of the river and holyoke range. those pink, luminescent puddles scattered up and down its dirt roads that i pointed out last night became extreme challenges to overcome as the sun beat down on my neck. carrying my bike as i shuffled along the edge of corn crops, i forged ahead riding until the next obstacle presented itself. finally reaching the puddle-less stretch toward the airport i looked up at the summit house and thought about the chipmunk that scuttled along its base while i watched the sun set.

late night

i want to be able to remember all of my friends' birthdays without relying on the internet to remind me. i ended up at the wrong party saturday after a long night of work and serving food to white people listening to white people playing jazz, i found myself in the cooley dickinson waiting room. as 4:00 am pressed on i was commiserating with the girl who also had a friend gettting treated for a glass-in-head injury, just before i dozed off while trying to read rebecca solnit's a field guide to getting lost. the rain and thunder raged outside as heads were stapled and i returned home to read the newest issue off the bard college alumni magazine featuring photos from my reunion. before dozing off for real. this may explaing why i feel so tired now...

the show

the show went well. i'm still laughing about the girls who asked me if i was the "owner" of the house. "i don't even live here," i said, smiling, after gaining my composure. all the bands were really great and a lot of good people showed up to rock out to a mid-week, summer basement show. even the rain and lightning couldn't hold us back. griffin and i both broke strings on our guitars. mine was right after singing: i never have and never will pledge allegience! i didn't know the rest of the words of the classic propagandhi anthem anyway so maybe it was for the best that the E string snapped. i just cut right to the outro: those who see through the lies, are quickly gagged and bound. ambition realized: tear the whole fucking thing down! ella and ben were very gracious hosts, particularly given the fact that they didn't know many people there, in their own home. they seemed like they had a nice time too.

i hope more house shows and parties happen this summer. it's so important to create these spaces, even temporarily, in which people can have meaningful interactions outside of market exchanges. no purchases, customer service, tips, or hierarchy. just fun, conversation, dancing, singing, and sharing. there's so much more to write but it's a truly beautiful day and we should all just turn our computers off and go outside...now.

anchor of adventure

this is the peak season for trainhopping, greyhound scams, and other types of ill-advised road trips. mid-summer. even with sky-rocketing fuel costs people are criss-crossing this vast country in search of adventure and connection. with the exception of a possible day trip to nyc (anyone wanna join me?) this sunday i am feeling pretty anchored right now. i am here, in this apartment i moved into 3 years ago, with an extra bed for those on the move.

sunday afternoon hannah-(lastnamesareferfeds) contacted me on couchsurfing.com about crashing in northampton monday night. she was hitchiking from boston so wasn't certain when exactly she would be arriving, but she was aiming to get in before the potluck at 7:00 i invited her too. after work, with an hour before the potluck, i rode bikes with two of my coworkers down to a secret swimming spot in leeds. it was truly amazing. i hadn't been swimming in this area since my first summer here and after a sweaty shift and bike ride i needed it. a return trip is surely in order...

despite travelling from north carolina, hannah knew half of the people at the potluck and it was promptly invited to lori's birthday party saturday upon meeting her. she greeted my coworker with long-lost-friend-type hug as, it turns out, they worked together at the camp in rowe last summer. it all made so much sense. i biked home and hannah found a ride. we were equally tired and fell asleep early after studying maps and helping her secure a ride for the morning. she was pleased about not having to hitchike another day.

my brother arrived at my door from the bus just minutes after hannah's ride picked her up. an ostensible job-hunting trip to northampton quickly degenerated into socializing with his new bff and my incredible neighbor ani. i spent hours spamming everyone i know about the house show i'm setting up for griffin this week while they drank beer and out-sassed each other. ani fed us delicious pesto from basil she grew in her garden. i was distracted by phone calls with rumors of the iron horse entertainment group potentially interfering with the upcoming valley free radio benefit that we've worked so hard to organize. several additional phone calls clarified that the story was more complicated, but the benefit has, indeed, been cancelled.

after our vfr meeting to discuss all of this tony and i came back to my apartment to meet up with paul who had just woken up from a nap. the second house party of the day, also featuring my lovely roomates, winded down as they got ready for bed and roseredd stopped by to say hello. she gave me, tony, and paul a ride to the basement before she drove home to clean the yankee candles off her skin. the basement was too much fun, well, for me. they sat on the couch in the corner feeling too old. i talked to everyone i could about the show the following night and danced hard in between. we walked home before the music ended and had a little sleepover to avoid any drunk driving to chicopee. i'm not used to waking up with a boy in my bed, but i felt okay about that. paul is spending the day with his friend lee checking out the massage school in easthampton and applying for jobs. ostensibly.

tonight is the show. griffin and her true believers should be on their way down from montreal but i haven't heard from them yet so i'm just waiting in anticipation. waiting to rock...

the edge of honesty

my former, 22-year old self looks over my right shoulder as type this, moralizing, carpel tunnels on fire. how could i truthfully explain to him what i've done? really. honestly. the blood, the guts, the stained sheets. dozens of scandalous tales scribbled in haiku form to melt his naivete and post-adolescent world view. he remains there, on both shoulders, filtering my experiences and emotions into the words you read. did all of these things really happen? the sweat, the late night bike rides, the stories that only one or two people have ever heard. i want to tell you everything, honesty dripping out of my nostrils, oozing out of my lips onto this computer screen. but not tonight. he looks down at me and ties my wrists together with elastic bands and duct tape. "you're never gonna guess what happened last night..." a message in a bottle to be read on a different shore. i have a crush on your words. on your truth.