Didn’t think it was possible that any good could come from the mess that is now our national government, but I’ve seen a few bright spots. Our communities are coalescing and more focused on making life better for their citizens. We’re making new friends and channeling our frustration into positive actions. Sooner or later somewhere, some how, some time, somethin’s gotta give.
Attended the “Hands Off” protest in Sacramento Saturday where, although I didn’t count them, it appeared that hundreds and maybe thousands of protestors showed up on the west lawn of the State Capitol. I don’t want to overestimate the crowd size but let’s just say that although it wasn’t as large as MLK’s March on Washington, it had the same spirit of “good trouble” as was on display in 1963.
The crowds ran the gamut from children to elders, people in wheelchairs, tots in strollers, veterans, federal workers, retirees, families, and well-behaved dogs. Music blared from the Capitol steps, people chanted. It was like a big cocktail party without the cocktails, protestors in good spirits standing around exchanging stories, admiring each other’s signs, laughing, singing, and enjoying themselves.
A huge orange balloon of the President floated above the crowd as good samaritans handed out free water. The National Director of Governmental Affairs for American Indian Veterans worked the crowd. Frank Ramirez, a member of the Apache Tribe, gave each of us a large button celebrating the Centennial of the Indian Citizenship Act. In 1924 Native people won full citizenship when Calvin Coolidge signed that bill. Yet the fight for voting rights continues.
The signs ran from the earnest, urging love and compassion, to puns, double entendres, and words that would get you a mouthful of soap if you had uttered them back in the day.
This one took me a minute — “86-47.”
Others: “Eat the rich.” “Little hands off our democracy.” “The sea is rising and so are we.” “Forget eggs, eat the rich.” “Support science. Defend the earth.” “Responsible citizens neuter their Doge.” “Does this ass make my country look small?”
”I have seen smarter cabinets at IKEA!” “Bad Doge! No biscuits!” “Disagreeing with the government is my first amendment right. It is not domestic terrorism.” And the signs kept coming. Saw only two policemen who sat on their elegant steads surveying the crowds. It was a love fest in sneakers.
Meanwhile, back in Benicia life goes on. Handyman extraordinaire Ben Littlefair has been working for years on Lisa Coop’s Marina house boat, aptly named Coop de Villa. The otters are a continuing problem. They love to flop up on the deck at the back of the boat and sun themselves. They’re cute floating on their backs holding a shellfish in their paws (flippers?), but not so cute as landlubbers. There’s no one to pick up after them.
Did you know there is actually a word for otter dung — “spraints.” Derived from the Middle French, it sounds a bit more civilized than “poop” or “dog-doo.” To use in a sentence — “Get them spraints off my boat!”
Ben built a sturdy fence out of chicken wire on the back of Lisa’s boat which kept the otters away for two months before they wised up, circled around and came back on the dock where they found another entry point. So, Ben extended the fence so that it hung over the water. When the slippery beasts tried to jump up, they bumped their heads, which they didn’t like. “I even put two big fake owls on either side of the dock, but that doesn’t stop them,” Ben said.
“Otter dung is basically fish bones and shells which if stepped on cut your foot — much like owl droppings with bird bones,” Ben said. “How do you know all of this?” I asked. “I’ve lived a lot of life. It’s a gift,” he said.
Had a fun experience at Benicia Community Center on last week, if you can call having your taxes done fun. The AARP volunteers showed up again ready to crunch numbers. Was prepared to pay around the usual $3,000-plus in federal taxes, but two tax experts whittled it down to $3!! I’ve never written the IRS a check for such a small amount, but looks like they’ll need every penny. Afterwards, went out to Lucca’s to celebrate with friends. Is this a great town or what? Benicia is abuzz with beneficence.
Showed up at the Thursday protest at City Park — “Benicia Vigil for Democracy” — that long-time activist and artist Susan Street organized. It’s every Thursday from 5-6:30 pm going forward. “Benicia Standing Strong” is the motto. Nice crowd waving their signs and getting lots of honks — and a couple of angry fists. “We savor the honks,” Susan said.
Cathy Bennett was there in her red Handmaiden’s cape and chains. A big cheer when Mayor Young showed up. Spenser the Golden Doodle was visiting from Oregon, his protest sign on his back, and looking dapper in a fetching green scarf.
Saw lots of the same faces that I’d seen on the Zoom call to the City Council meeting on Tuesday when the Council voted 5-0 to pass the Industrial Safety Ordinance. A huge victory and congratulations to the BISHO Working Group.
Wanted to go to the Council in person but am terribly allergic to flowers, particularly sunflowers, which ISO supporters were waving. So opted to stay home. In ancient mythology sunflowers represent the sun, adoration, loyalty, and longevity conveying warmth, happiness and gratitude. All good, but for me they represent Kleenex, itchy throat, and countless blessings of “gesundheit.” The sneezing emoji isn’t an option on Zoom. Instead, you hit the “raise your hand” symbol when you agree with something. I did this many times. Zero pollen count. Five to zero vote. It was a good day.
Letters From Benicia 