that was the motto on top of a Texas-themed bar on Fifth Avenue back in the late 70s, early 80s. There was a giant Armadillo on the roof. sometimes I think we are in the too much is not enough era for real. Too much lying, not enough truth telling Too much male preening not enough acknowledgement of women–mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, lovers, friends. Not enough.
But then again there can ever be too much fun and not enough laughter. So on my birthday, I posted a silly picture of me at end of my first full week in Roanoke, Virginia, far from Brooklyn, even farther from my Delta based home town. It’s very green here. The highways are very wide. There are creeks and creeks flood. Birds are making noise. Spring comes a little earlier in the South–even so there has been too much rain and not enough infrastructure to handle climate changing. There are bills in the Assembly to remove RACIST LAWS that have been on Virginia’s books since 1913, but many Republicans refuse to repeal hem –like it would take an hour. There are people fighting to keep mountains mountains and rivers unpolluted, but greed is more than enough to fight for short term gain forgetting the long term damage. The lies are killing us. Greed is killing us. I for one am not interested in this grabbing of every resource for the profit of a few. But too many people are like that armadillo on top of a bar: armored, exposed and frankly too scared to listen to their own truth.
It’s my birthday and I want us to grow our moral selves–demand truthtelling; mitigate greed; protect mountains, rivers, streams, land; proffer JUSTICE for all; sing beautiful songs; dance wonderful dances; watch ourselves flourish instead of just survive. I guess this is a kind of prayer. But hope is always a kind of prayer.
sunrise Captiva Island, Florida 2018