I love my family, my friends, my colleagues, my people. A friend who knows how I feel about celebrating Christmas made me a present anyway — a beautiful coat rack made entirely from salvage. I was touched but it’s still a difficult season for me. We must appreciate each other and I’m grateful for the good fortune with which I’m blessed but my joy is watery, diluted with tears. You my friends are the bringers of joy inside those tears.
This morning I heard the voice of NPR busily engaged in the normalizing project, talking about Trump and his people as if all was well with the world and we could go about our business as usual.
We may not. It’s imperative that we recognize and hold in our consciousness the fact that we’re on the edge of the precipice and slipping. We must resist, even if that’s all there is for us to do. Even if it’s a only a gesture. Let’s do it together.
Now I wish that Miss Peggy Lee were here to sing this version. Wish I could sing it for you today.
When I was twenty-one the People marched for Peace while that year in Viet-Nam it rained fire from the sky. When I was fifty-one as another war Rained shock and awe marching feet marched on. And when all was still I said to myself Is that all there is? Is that all there is? Is that all there is To Democracy? I remember a movement ninety-nine percent of a nation demanding a voice a place at the table. Then they went away and I said to myself Is that all there is? Is that all there is? Is that all there is To the People? I remember being outraged by the nasty ignorance the unapologetic racism the brutish misogynism of the man who would be President And then he ran and then he won And when it was over I said to myself Is that all there is? Is that all there is? Is that all there is To our Outrage?