EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE 12/25/09

Every once in a while, someone expresses them self in such a manner that not only captures the moment of the time we live, but the ache of the soul we share as human beings. Without going into a long diatribe about the present abuse and betrayal presently affronting us by those who continue to misuse the power we afforded them, here is a correspondence between a long time friend who, as you can read from a day in the life communication, has simply said it all.

Dear One:

I'm pushing on. I just laid hardwood floors down in the living room, my den and kitchen. It was hell, the hardest thing I've ever done. It's weird. The roof, which took three weeks, was easier. It seems the slope of the roof shifted my spine. My knees didn't hurt. I was squatting and standing repeatedly without any problem or residual pain. But this... Fuck!!! It took me a week to recover. I felt like I was hit by a truck. It does look beautiful. I still haven’t written anything for over a year, not since I finished the choral symphony.

I'm very disturbed by what's going on. I'm absolutely convinced we are being sold out on healthcare, have been sold out by the banks (you should go toeditorial in the grand salon and read what I wrote about it. AND, it seems as never before, within my knowledge of history, we have as a nation, let alone the entire world, been so united by a single cause... private banking abuse. A revolution is coming. If it doesn't come quick enough, where it will be peaceful and restore the Constitution, it will only fester and unfortunately

become bloody chaos, like the French Revolution. Anyway, I'm sure you are already seeing a rise in this unity from your clients. And now, Vietnam ll...

Sebastian IS NOT GOING!!!!!!!!

Personally, I think Obama's life has been threatened. Have you seen him lately? His aura is gone. He's totally flat. I don't believe he would sell us out the way he seems to have. Keep up the fight, my love. I know you are.

Your fan,

Hayden

Floors. I've painted a few, designed a few. OUCH! You think it's easy until the next day. Then you get it that sitting is harder on your body than standing. You have my empathy. As far as the political debacle goes....yes it is disappointing. Takes me back to my original position

of apolitical personal transformation as the highest good. But Not before getting THIS outta me. I was solicited today to call my congressional senators, Babs and Dianne F. The goal was to get a

million people to make a call for health care. Here's what I wrote in the space where they asked for comments:

"I'm not at all sure I want this watered down version to pass. Maybe Howard’s ight. (But if he’s like Joe, he probably changed his mind since the last news cycle). I am sure that reforming health care issues the way both sides are currently suggesting, is already too little, too late for me. I was ambivalent about the generous offer to buy into Medicare. That great deal of 650 plus per month doesn't sound like much of a bargain to me. I already lost my health insurance because as a single payer on a stupidly expensive HIPPA plan, I couldn't afford that amount. I was nervously optimistic that The Obama Administration might be able to help people like me. At least your plan doesn't have a four thousand dollar per year deductible, like the private pool insurance pirates, rendering it pretty much catastrophic insurance

only. Should said catastrophe ensue, I would be summarily loopholed to death. Bad as it was, I couldn't get it back now if my life depended on it. And it might. Oh wait. I can’t be refused insurance with your bill. I wasn’t refused before. I was just robbed. At least with HIPPA, I was certain I was getting screwed

without so much as a sympathy card. I don't mind calling, donating, canvassing, participating to CREATE CHANGE. But at some point, I’m going to need to see something, ANYTHING, (recognizable from the platform this administration was elected to carry out), actualized. But until PAC money and corporate greed stop dictating policy, Washington remains a cesspool. Period. What about campaign reform? No

lobbyists? And boy, those bankers sure got a tongue-lashing. That always works. Anyway, here's what happened during my impotent, ill-fated phone call attempts - Dianne Feinstein's number was busy, same as it is every time there's an important issue to call about. EVERY TIME. At least Barbara Boxer's voice

mail had her recorded voice reporting that her mailbox was full. She sounded really nice. I think she likes me. For the holidays, why not give those two some bail out money to update their phone systems, so that their constituents can reach them for the representation they were sworn to carry out. Oh yeah. I feel soooo represented. Don't even get me started about the troop deployment. No really. Don't. Thanks for suggesting that I 'connect' to my

government officials.

Happy Holidays. Give my regards to the tea baggers on the lawn. Idiots. Idiots everywhere. Idiots on parade. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.

“Babel & Bullshit. Hold please.”

Oh wait. I can’t."

But by the time I wrote it, it was no longer possible to send it. I don't care. It was therapeutic for me. As for writing, well. It gets stranger and harder to find the time to focus. I participated in a

national month of poetry writing, writing a poem a day, every day, in April. I posted them on Facebook, which I think I pointed out to you. If you were on facebook, you might have followed my latest misadventure in writing. NaNoWriMo. Stands for National Novel Writing Month. The Goal: Write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days of November. Start to finish. All fresh prose. I did it. It's a piece of crap, but I'm inordinately proud of the sheer perseverance. Both experiences, the poems and the novel, taught me a lot about getting out of my own way. Now, all I need to do is get out of my own way enough to apply what I learned. Ha! So silly, this life. I try to remember to laugh. The survival crap is tedious. I am lucky that I still love my work, and am making enough to get by. Barely. No room for error, which is taxing, as you know. Don't want to dwell on that. Prefer to focus on sharing the wonderful story of NaNoWriMo, which started ten years ago with 21 writers in San Francisco. This year there were over One Hundred and Sixty Thousand people that signed up for the madness. About 20% crossed the finish line. The website, the people who keep it going,

the writers, their young writers program, all of it is the feel good

story of the year. Check it out:

www.nanowrimo.org

Bob Lenox has been in the hospital for over a month. I keep

thinking I'll get a call that he's gone. He keeps going. As long as

he wants to, I support that. But if he's in pain (which he is) and

wants to quit, (which he doesn't, at least as of the last time we

spoke), I give him total permission to check out. CHECK PLEASE! I

will miss knowing he's on the planet if he does. Circle of life, and

all that. Here's a poem I wrote about him in April:

THIS GRIEF WEARS A DIFFERENT HAT

He wears hats well -

or did before

surgery number

two out of four.

He could charm you

out of your own skin,

if that’s what he wanted.

He could talk anyone into

doing just about anything.

He pulled me

to New York

kicking and singing.

He grabbed my arm

and picked me up

when I'd collapsed

myself in shame

from stupid choices

and dangerous moves.

He diffused those bombs,

then one-upped me

in the dumb department,

detonating some dirty gem

from his dirty past

to seal the deal,

to make me clean,

his story sitting next

next to mine.

He tricked me

into getting up on stage

then finding my way home.

He shoved me in then

told me I could swim.

He staged an introduction,

“Mary, this is Paris -

Paris, this is Mary”

then stuck around

just long enough

to watch us fall in love.

He listened to my

nonsense and tears,

for decades,

he listened

and held steady,

the good Buddhist.

He made me mad,

he made me laugh,

he made me weep,

he made me write,

he sang the songs

we wrote.

He sings like no one

else, but if your life

depended on getting

the point across, you

might say his is ‘a voice

that falls somewhere between

Tom Waits and Jimmy Durante,

but then again, a thing apart.’

He’d say, ‘I wish I had their money.’

Me too. For me. For him.

To bribe the pain.

To pay the doctors more.

To buy some time.

To continent hop.

To jazz it up,

and slow

things down.

To be cool.

To be-bop.

To tell him everything

he did for me,

and ask him,

"what I can do

for you?"

This grief wears a different hat.

Was considering coming to New York for Christmas, but even with a

free place to stay (friend's condo) and cheap airfares (ish), I can't

really afford it. Might come in January. Another friend will be

starring in play he did earlier this year, for one night only. I don't

know. Lot of work to get there and come back, especially because

I'm housesitting for another pal the first week of January in the

desert. It's a lot of time away. The condo situation will go away in

February, so it would be swell to take advantage of it. I'll let you

know if I decide to make the effort. Take good care. Keep on

keepin' on. Happy damn holidays!

Mary

Dear One:

NEVER!!!!, in all my literary uptake/intake, take/take, have I ever

experienced a more profound, astute and compassionate virtual reality to

what is going on. If someone, anyone would find this document, say, some

archeologist in nano seconds, minutes, hours, days, life times from now, the

reader would know the pain and impotence we all feel.

I'm emotionally shaken. I intuitively know a revolution is coming. You cannot

perpetually treat people like this and get away with it. My feeling is, the

change we needed and voted for would have abated a violent response. This

overt moral corruption, this TREASON to our guarantee for THE PROMOTION

OF THE GENERAL WELFARE, will inevitably bring on such a violent backlash,

that no one will be safe from it, even those of us who would be considered

the "good guys."

The extreme violence of the French Revolution could have been prevented.

Many innocent people felt its wrath.

I am posting this in the editorial page anonymously. To me, it is one of the

most, not only poignant, but brilliant documents of the time we live. May it

have the "swiftness of foot" as did COMMON SENSE by Thomas Paine.

I love you and will always love you will all my heart and soul.

Hayden