Protesters challenging entrenched governments in Tunisia and Egypt gained early momentum thanks to social media. That Facebook and Twitter could play such a role in modern insurrections was unimagined by the founders of these social websites, and the whole notion of a website would be incomprehensible to Our Founding Fathers.
Where current events will lead is unclear, but if you transport these latest devices back 236 years, it’s not hard to imagine that earlier revolutions might have started in the same way.
Friend me, children, and you shall hear
Of the Twitterstream of Paul Revere.
In April of 1775
Hardly a man is now alive
who remembers the web was already here.He said to his friend, “When the Brits intrude,
If by land or sea from the town they lurch,
Send a message to me from your iPhone, dude
I’ve got coverage up by the old North Church.One tweet if by land and two tweets if by sea
And I on the opposite shore will be
Already connected to Facebook and Twitter
I’ll rally each farmer and rancher and knitter.
Assuming they all can arrange for a sitter.Later, impatient and holding his cell,
All jumpy from Starbucks and eager as hell
on the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he’s tested his ringtone’s knell
Now five bars, his reception clear.
Checked his battery. It was charged.
His pounding heart was twice enlarged.He searched for hashtags to hasten speed
#British, #man-o-war, #redcoats and #steed
The network was up, but was it corrupted?
Then quickly to life the device erupted.
“Brits go 4 #man-o-war, coming by sea
Revolution is here, P. Revere OMG!”
He copied this message, not missing a beat.
Proceeded it with an “RT” for “re-tweet”
And then closed up the phone. Revolution complete.You know the rest. It was blogged. It was posted.
The Redcoats, defeated, were routed and toasted.
For social connections can work with a power
as potent as lanterns hung in a church tower.
A people, aggrieved, can now push for redress
in one hundred forty quick keystrokes or less.
Longfellow’s poem (which actually does include the word “twitter”), is as famous today for it’s inaccuracies as its narrative – evidence that a memorable simplicity must eventually succumb to a more complex truth.
Ever been part of an uprising?
Trail Baboon 
Morning all. I actually HAVE been part of an uprising, albeit a small one. 21 years ago, there were three of us up for only two positions. The person making the decision takes a long time to make these decisions… there were multiple interviews and a long wait. Finally on a Friday afternoon she called all three of us to her cube and said that she had made her decision but that she hadn’t worked out exactly what the workloads would be, so she was going to let us know on Monday. Somehow, without even discussing it, we all three just sat there, refusing to get up. I don’t even remember who it was now, but one of us spoke outloud that we’d really prefer to know right then and there – that we didn’t care about the workload as long as we knew about the job. She looked at the three of us a long time, gave us a big sigh and told us that if we went back to our cubes, she would call us in one at a time and give us the straight scoop. I’m sure if I had been alone, I might not have had the nerve to insist, but in our little company of three, I did!
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Wow, Sherrilee. That’s a good example of the clueless boss – unaware of how her decisions change people’s lives. How else did she think that little meeting was going to turn out? Weird.
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did you win out?
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Oh yes… sorry. I got the full-time position, G.G. got the 9-month position and M.B. lost out. After 2+ decades, it’s still me, the same job and the same boss, although GG and MG have moved on.
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OT — Anne Reed sang a brand new song of hers at church yesterday. One Step, One Breathe. A beautiful piece about carrying on when things get overwhelming. I spoke to her after the service and she said the song would be out to be downloaded sometime in February and then eventually on an album. I asked if it was OK to spread this news on the blog and she said absolutely. So… if you’re a fan and you see the song on her website… go for it, it’s fabulous!
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Thanks for the heads up – will look for it!
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i took a singwriting class wiht ann at the homestead picking parlor 18 years ago and became a big fan and got to dixcover how she wenta bout writing songs. looking forward to hearing the new one.
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brilliant and hilarious, Dale – thanks!
i suppose i might have been part of an uprising, but i missed the call to the barriers because i don’t tweet and i’m completely inept at facebook.
like VS, my teeny uprising was at work also. i had a retired marine for a boss. he had bullied me for a year and was taking my time, one day, to tell me that i need to keep track of how many paper clips i used so he could do the budget. and oh, that even though i had to punch the time clock, i should continue to work my 11 hours/day but punch in and out so that i only had 8 recorded hours otherwise it “looked bad.” this was in the south – there were three women who happened to be in the office when he was telling me this. i got mad. i shook my finger at him. i told him he treated me like a child (i think i was 38) and i wouldn’t stand for it anymore. he walked out, never to return. the three southern women cheered. many came up to me during the next weeks (i inherited his job) and told me how terribly he had treated them – much worse than i had been – i don’t know what came over me, like VS – just did it. had a Norma Rae moment, i guess. 🙂
a gracious good morning to You All
and hope you and husband are doing well, BiR!
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BiB…I love the phrase “had a Norma Rae moment”!
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I guess I shouldn’t be amazed that it was required to count paper clips. When you moved into his position were you able to do the budget without this vital information?
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probably why i wasn’t very good at his job, Dale – wasn’t into those details like paper clips. i never wanted his job – so i hired someone who did want it, after a bit of time we traded jobs and i went back to my old one, but much happier.
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I worked at a Catholic hospital early in my career where you couldn’t get a new pencil from the supply nun unless you showed her the too short pencil stub of your old pencil.
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Brilliant poem, Dale! A great start to our week.
I’ve posted too much about my protests against the Vietnamese war. Although I felt radical at the time, my protests were disgustingly middle-class and polite.
Let me talk about my daughter, a sweet and compliant child. I’ve seen Molly truculent and stubborn, but she never once got angry with me. I gather she did get hot once, though. I live not far from the Highland golf course. Kathe, my ex, wanted Molly to caddy on that course so she might qualify for an Evans Scholarship (a college scholarship for caddies). Molly did NOT want to caddy. But nobody wins an argument with Kathe. So one fine June morning when Molly was about 16, she was dumped at the course so she could start her caddying career.
Molly had the poor luck of drawing a gang of geezers in plaid pants, and the fellow she caddied for had a mouth on him. He complained non-stop about being stuck with a “girl caddy.” Of course, he had a big bag full of expensive clubs, and it was heavy for a teen aged girl. He kept yapping at her and making fun of her to his buddies. Molly suffered in silence.
At the end of nine holes, they were back at the club house. The obnoxious guy hadn’t played well, and he began blaming Molly for his poor game. Without saying a word, Molly stalked up some little ornamental bridge that arches over a little creek. She gave that golf bag a good overhead twirl and heaved the whole thing out into a little pond as far as she could throw it. Then she stalked off to get a Pepsi and sat there glowering until her dad picked her up and asked how the first day of caddying had gone.
Molly didn’t tell us about that incident for three weeks. Each day Kathe would drop her off at the club house, where Molly drank Pepsis and read books until I picked her up “after work!”
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HA!!! great story – plucky 16-year-old! that took courage. thanks, Steve.
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I must meet your daughter!
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so did she enjoy the opportunity to read in the peace and quite of the clubhouse?
i hear that is a good scholarship. did she ever caddy again?
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My nephews both went to college on that scholarship, but they were athletes who loved golf. Molly found golf intolerably boring. She happily spent each day guzzling pop and reading books. I don’t think the golf club would have had the guts to put her out with another golfing group!
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I’m sure that was very plucky, but I am amazed you were a) never informed and b) not made to buy the jerk a new set of golf clubs. Times have changed.
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Surprises me too. I didn’t hear about until almost a month after the fact when Molly told us it wasn’t really necessary to drive her to work each day.
There is steel in Molly. We are lucky that she doesn’t choose to show it very often. She is so empathic that her workers used to call her “Mother Theresa” and mocked he way she believed in people. But that steel is always there.
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ATTA GIRL MOLLY!
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I’m sure that golfer and his cronies are still talking about the girl caddy who heaved Rude Boy’s clubs into the stream. I caddied for many years and am in complete sympathy. My guess is that a little water doesn’t do much harm to golf clubs anyway. Besides, the story those guys now get to tell over and over and over is at least worth the cost of a new bag and some club grips.
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I haven’t had need of a “Norma Rae” moment, thankfully. Closest I came was raising a ruckus about a somewhat random rule at one job – you had to apply for higher positions (not just get promoted), and finally a spot opened up for me to do that. It was with a different supervisor, but I applied anyway (with the encouragement of my current supervisor). About 3 months after I moved into that position, a similar position opened up with my old supervisor – essentially my old job, which I had liked better, but with the pay rate I should have been getting. But, since the job description was slightly different than my current position, it was considered a different job even with the same job title as the current position. And I couldn’t apply for it because I hadn’t been in my current position for 6 months. Oh the injustice! I fussed at HR (they were unmoved and in love with their silly policy), I wailed to my old supervisor (who was moved and wanted me back), she fussed at HR (they were still unmoved), she fussed at our director (who was unable or unwilling to make any hanges). We bided our time. And as soon as she had a spot she put me into it before anyone could do anything (I think she and I applied for a transfer for me). My current supervisor was ticked, but could do nothing. My director was amused. HR was non-plussed. Not nearly as dramatic as VS and BiB. I have lived a cushy, revolution-less life.
Hope there is a trip home today for BiR and Husband!
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You’re my new hero, Anna. I hear you snagged some custard for BiR. Sweet thought! I hope you haven’t et it.
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tim – you’ve reminded me of how much hard it used to be to be a vegetarian. In fact, back when I switched to meatless, I didn’t even meet another vegetarian for two years! No vegetarian restaurants back then (at least not where I was) and no aisles of “natural foods” at the grocery store. And certainly no vegetarian entrees at any local restaurants… except the Chili Rellenos at a Mexican restaurant in Milwaukee near the university. You got really, really good at reading all the inclusions for the meat meals and then convincing the waitstaff to ask the kitchen for just those items!
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I have not touched BiR’s pint…which is not to say that I have not been devouring the quart I bought earlier in the week or the frozen custard pie or….
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The teenager and I both ate custard right out of the containers last night, sitting on the sofa. Of course, since I stopped by Liberty every couple of days the last three weeks, we have PLENTY to last us for awhile!
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i saw the film trailer for five easy pieces on turner coming up in the february oscars month. this is one of my favorite lseeon movies. jack nicholsan is on a train with karen black and in the dining car he orders (from imbd)[Bobby wants plain toast, which isn’t on the menu]
Bobby: I’d like an omelet, plain, and a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast, no mayonnaise, no butter, no lettuce. And a cup of coffee.
Waitress: A #2, chicken salad sand. Hold the butter, the lettuce, the mayonnaise, and a cup of coffee. Anything else?
Bobby: Yeah, now all you have to do is hold the chicken, bring me the toast, give me a check for the chicken salad sandwich, and you haven’t broken any rules.
Waitress: You want me to hold the chicken, huh?
Bobby: I want you to hold it between your knees.
it taught me a lot about ordering vegetarian in the 60’s and going forward how to think about getting things done that were deemed against policy.
my favorite memories of the uprising are getting teargassed at the u of m bak in the charlie stenvig era for taking over the rotc building and moral hall in the late 60’s …ah those were the days
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I was part of a failed uprising to liberalize the dorm visitation rules at Concordia college. At that time, one could only visit members of the opposite sex in their dorm rooms every other Sunday afternoon from 1-4. I remember sitting in the president’s office with two co-conspirators watching as the president pounded on his desk and shouted at us that the policy wasn’t going to change and that he didn’t want the same kind of “horror stories” happening at Concordia that he had heard had happened at St. Olaf. It certainly made us curious about St Olaf!
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I got caught up in the same thing in Grinnell in th early 60s. Remember the “three feet on the floor rule?” As if horny kids couldn’t figure a way to work around that!
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It only requires a certain amount of flexibility really… 🙂
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Um ya ya
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UpRise and Shine Baboons:
This is an interesting time isn’t it? After the the Liberty Custard gathering my son and I were discussing the combination of rebellion and this level of technology and what it might produce. Certainly it will be a different product than the American Revolution which was a combination of rebellion and an agrarian society with a pre-industrial technology. This combo gave the U.S. time to evolve into a democracy that works here, including the 80 years needed to abolish slavery, that immoral and very sticky wicket. We were wondering if current technology will allow these Arab nations that kind of time to evolve into something workable.
Meanwhile, my childhood was a permanent rebellion against my mother, the despot. I formed a labor union with my siblings which allowed us to bargain on our joint behalf. Pertinant issues were as follows:
The length of my brother’s hair (from butch to 1.5 inches on top)
The length of skirts–very short from 1968 to 1971
Wearing blue jeans to school (not allowed for girls in the 1960’s)
Planning a visit to see a friend of my Dad’s
Cartoons on Saturday morning–those were not allowed, so my sister and I would
post my brother as guard waiting for mom to come home from grocery shopping!
We never won the right to buy comic books or teen magazines, we did not get out of practicing musical instruments, and we had to do chores and clean the house. I also did not get to be on the school dance line, a major loss for me.
Mom was the 60’s version of the current “Tiger Mom.”
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Dale: Love the poem. Wish I could do parody like that–a fine talent on your part!
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Thanks for the compliment Jacque.
Matching the original rhyme scheme was too hard, and matching the length would have been abusive to everyone. So I just went for highlights with a different pattern and more white space. No harm done, I hope.
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Nope, no harm done at all… I think I liked it better even.
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I learned early on in parochial grade school that I could think anything I wanted to, so long as I stayed quiet and gave the right answers when called on, so any rebellion was purely covert (intellectually the only thing I DIDN’T do was join the Trotskyists–anarchism rather than communism was the fashion when I was in college ;-)). My roommate, on the other hand, was the first girl to wear “slacks” to school, and refused to say the Pledge because she was an atheist. Fortunately, her parents backed her up on both issues.
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Ha… CG, you’ve just reminded me of another small rebellion that I took part in. Very small. When I was in the 7th grade, for reasons that I can no longer remember, I made a skirt out of a tablecloth. It was a square tablecloth, red- and white-checked and had red fringe. I wasn’t a great designer, or even seamstress, so the skirt hung funny, with the four corners longer than the rest, the whole thing well below my knees, but I really thought it was nifty. I got sent home from the school for wearing it. My mother was not sympathetic, but I must have made a convincing case to my father, who said if I was willing to go to the principal to tell him why I should be allowed to wear this skirt, then he would go with me. So we did and I was allowed to wear the skirt after that. I’m pretty sure it was my father’s presence and not my argument that won the day, but it felt good at the time. Of course, as all these stories go, my classmates didn’t think the skirt was as nifty as I did and it got consigned to the back of the closet fairly quickly!
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cool story, VS – cool Dad also.
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Forgot to say, great poem, Dale!
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I don’t think it qualifies as actual rebellionin my case if you merely walk away from an untenable situation and all you get back is your sanity-that is just taking your life back and accepting the consequences. I’ve done that plenty of time and have the bank balance to prove it-my consequences usually involve a loss of cash.
I was part of a small rebellion of parents against a scheduling change recently at my son’s school. The change was to facilitate implementing yet another directive that is supposed to make everything “better” (engaging rant deterrent mechanism now). I won’t bore you with the details, but on the second snow day at SPPS, about 20 parents descended on the Board of Education public comments time to have their say. I think the assembled press was disappointed as they were thinking there would be a feeding frenzy over the disagreement between the superintendent and the mayor over the need for a second snow day, and all they got were these parents who wanted to make sure their kids have time to eat (amongst other things).I had said I would be one of the parents to speak-nearly backed out when I realized the thing was going to be on public access tv, but figured I was committed.
The day the note came home saying the changes would not be happening this year did feel very “Norma Rae”.
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should have gone on your rant eh?
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I disagree the sort of thing you mention in your first paragraph is not “actual rebellion.” I’d be tempted to call that heroism.
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I agree… too many people don’t walk away and suffer the slow seeping away of their sanity. Taking action, even if it’s walking away, is certainly rebellion! Woo hoo!
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Existential purism forces me to state that in the cases where I made a dramatic exit, I had gotten myself into something that I perhaps should not have, and did not clearly define boundaries from the get go.
I would keep trying to make something work and finally reach a personal breaking point-to me, that is more of a strategic retreat brought on by hubris than heroism.
Heroism is sitting a lunch counter from which you have been barred for no reason that can have anything to do with justice.
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I understand what you’re saying exactly, MiG. I have just walked away from a situation like you described. I have my sanity, and now some optimism for the future, but that’s about it. I was a victim of the situation but I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be involved in the first place. Someone who was close to me was responsible for the situation and that person is now gone. I told my truths and stood my ground knowing that I was incriminating myself and I have come out of it alive, sane and optimistic.
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good for you
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I guess I am with Catherine. I cannot remember a single time I was ever part of a group uprising or protest, only idiosyncratic petulances and tirades. Matches my character that I would not join any corporate insurgencies. But there must have been one or so. If anyone had pushed me a little further, I might have become a unibomber first. How disappointing of me. I hereby resign as a Babooner.
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please don’t, Clyde – don’t leave us.
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I call on all Babooners to rise up and refuse to accept Clyde’s resignation.
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Not only do I refuse the resignation… I refuse to believe that Clyde isn’t the original rebeller. All the stories that we’ve heard over the months lead me to believe that Clyde ALWAYS does what he thinks needs to be done, even if it’s not the easy path.
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I say let’s get a petition going to keep Clyde from resigning. And if that doesn’t work, we can have a sit-in.
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hmmm, now that Liberty is closed, where shall we sit?
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I’d vote for Sister Sludge as a good sit-in spot. Last time I was there they had a spicy dark hot cocoa that was fabulous…I could have a pretty extended sit-in with that close by…
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Wouldn’t a sit-in need to include Clyde somehow to get his attention. How about a Skype sit-in?
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Morning–
I helped start a food fight in the cafeteria in seventh grade… but that would be about it…
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and the cause you were flinging for was……….?
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Down with the ‘Lunch Room Man’, man!
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I was like Crow Girl, a sweet little apple-polisher on the outside but an intellectual rebel in the privacy of my skull. When I was 13 I was forced to attend Confirmation classes at our Congregational church. Much of what I was taught struck me as being offensively vague and incredible. Then as a special gift, the church’s minister visited our class to amuse us with stories.
I already knew that Reverend Murray was the most negative and boring Scotsman on earth, but I hadn’t been exposed before to his bigotry. He described visiting a Catholic nun who had not expected him. “Did you ever wonder what nuns have under those black hoods? BALD as a billiard ball!” I was just shocked at that. Reverend Murray then swung into an attack on somebody named Darwin. “I don’t know about YOU,” he said, “but I’m not descended from a damned MONKEY!”
I left that particular class still smiling but full of dark thoughts. I decided I hated organized religion. I knew I found Reverend Murray the most narrow-minded old goat I had ever met. And I enjoyed the idea that I had a buddy who might support me in my rebellion against this kind of religion, some guy named Charles Darwin.
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watch who you’re calling a goat, Steve – i have taken it upon myself to remove that (also bigoted) inference from our language! no more calling anyone a goat that doesn’t have four legs, cloven hooves, 4 stomachs, and only bottom teeth in front! from now on, we will call the kicker that misses the field goal, or narrow minded reverends “Huberts.” what a Hubert! that old Hubert? now i feel like a Hubert.
i’m standing on a desk and yelling 🙂 “equal rights and justice for the GOATS!”
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Oooh! I knew I goofed there and just hoped I could slip it by you. But noooooooooooooo! Let’s call him a narrow minded old troll.
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I developed a fondness for the Happy Warrior as a very young child, so I rise in defense of the name Hubert!
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you know, of course – all in good humor 🙂
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ok then, how about “human” when someone makes a mistake or is crabby or narrow-minded? i find that my animals rarely charactrize anything i do that is dumb, as goat-like. i would say they think “isn’t that just like a human?”
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that is what our cat is thinking, I have no doubt.
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Snorting herbal tea!
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Dale, and all, read Almanac for today.
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Can you give us more info?
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http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/
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An apropos poem, indeed.
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At my first college the students really a small part thereof, held a protest about once every three weeks, seriously. This was before the Viet Nam war was a noticeable event. Any real protest, protest of any meaning, was completely ignored by anyone in authority, the media, or just passing by, including all other students. This is a key part of my suspicion of protests.
Today driving up to Flagstaff in a bit of snow. Tomorrow riding the train up to the G. Canyon and back.
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Oooh, there’s a train there and back?
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A train goes out of Williams, about 30 west of Flagstaff. A 2.5 hour ride each way. You get 3.5 hours at the south rim. You can book it with a motel room at the depot. We have a pretty good prize, but I suspect they are off-season rates.
http://www.thetrain.com/
Are you still going to come out here?
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love flagstaff. stop by jerome if you get a chance
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i think that the poem about egypt is great
and will help them to freedom albiet they’re late
better late though than never is the best way to view it
obama says shape up the egyptians say screw it
we want mubarak out now and want the world to know it
on our backs he has ridden and our anger does show it
we probably won’t lynch him but he’d better leave quick
just ride out of cairo and we don’t give a lick
if he isn’t quite satisfied with his new lot in life
he’s made us all miserable and we’ve lived in strife
and a leader who cares about us more than the gold in his pocket
is what we’d like to now is strap his butt to a rocket
send him soaring toward pluto with a kick in the butt
never to return to the land of king tut
and to start our new life with democracy now
oh life will be wonderful we can vote and show how
we feel with our voices singing out with the song
of freedom and progress but before too too long
they will have to let women and jews have their say
and listen to idiots talk day after day
and they’ll realize that youd better be careful for just how you wish
this democracy stuff gets messy fast …ish
and the tea party of egypt will make bachman look tame
this democracy stuff is a tedious game
so onward and upward to all the egyptinas
but the pharmacies there better stock up on perscriptions
and give them out freely as medical care
to help them get passed the mubarak nightmare
it should be interesting to watch a peasure to see
how they do with the fledgling idea of free
but freedom has a price and is doesnt come cheap
so hang on ol sphinx egypts about to leap
into the history books for a 21st centuury reason
that will make days of pharos look like they were breezin
down easy street compared to this big step
so have fun in cairo and with mo larry and shep
the stooges of egypt will surely arise
so dont watch to closely and don’t be surprised
demoracy as we all learned form our mothers
is the worst form of government except for the others
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wow, Clyde. welcome back.
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tim. tim tim tim – i meant tim! sorry
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Tim, I think you have captured some of the spirit of what is going on in Eygpt. Democracy certainly has it’s problems. I don’t think there is any need to point that out. Nobody should know that better than a citizen of the USA.
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It is interesting to note that Sharif Kouddous has not been arrested while covering the demonstrations in Cairo. Other reporters have been arrested there. Sharif was arrested twice in St. Paul when covering the demonstrations at the Republican convention for Democracy Now.
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great, tim!
I’d especially like to meet an egyptina
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I held it together till I got to stock up on prescriptions . Thanks for a great laugh tim, I needed that.
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Just got to read this tim. Very nice; two good pieces of poetic work today–you and Dale.
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Good morning to all,
Amazing things are happening in Eygpt and can be followed using tweeter. I have not used tweeter before this weekend, and I am amazed at the messages coming from Egypt by tweeter. I’m not really using tweeter, I’m just reading tweeter message.
I’m mostly following Sharif Kouddous.
Sharif is a producer for Democracy Now, http://www.democracynow.org, and you can access his tweets from there. He has been in Cairo, where his family lives, for the last three days sending many messages by tweet and also just gave a report from Cairo on Democracy Now this morning.
What is going on in Eygpt is very inspiring and getting it first hand from a reporter I know from his work on Democracy Now makes it even more inspiring. I think there is no doubt the future of Eygpt is being changed for the better by the massive demonstrations even if they do not completely succeed.
I did some demonstrating when I was a student. I haven’t done much demonstrating since my days in school. I did participate in the demonstration at the Republican convention in St. Paul and was dissappointed by the rather small turn out for that demonstration.
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I’m so new to Twitter that I used the wrong spelling – Tweeter.
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I’m guessing that I wouldn’t have been the only one who wouldn’t even have noticed if you hadn’t said anything? I don’t even know HOW to find someone’s twitterings!
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The only way I get Twitter messages is by clicking on the Twitter icon on web pages or clicking on icons along side Twitter messages that lead to other others who are tweeting. I guess I will learn more with time.
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At an office where I once worked, back in my cube years, the HR department sent out an invitation for the staff to attend a luncheon at the Women’s Expo, featuring an appearance by Maya Angelou. After noting that the invitation was sent only to the female employees, I sent an e-mail to HR expressing my consternation that all the male employees were being left out. My point was that if the invitation went out to everyone, and none of the male employees wanted to go because it was a “women’s” thing, then that would be fine, but deliberately excluding the guys was an artificial gender separation and we should be way beyond that by now.
As far as I know, it was a one-person insurrection, but it worked and the guys all got invitations, and one of them joined the group.
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Way to go!
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an opportunity to go see maya angelo would be welcome any time
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Got to see her several years ago when she was speaking at an event at Augsburg College – she is fantastic. Told us all that we should memorize a poem or two to have around when we needed them (and then told the story of her son calling her from the hospital post-surgery…he asked if she would recite “Invictus” along with him – sure, she said – after they had gotten through part of it, he reminded her of a part she missed…and then said, “thanks, Mom, they were taking the stitches out and I needed to be distracted…).
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My mother was a teacher and went on strike my senior year in high school. The MN legislature had recently changed the law about teachers striking and my somewhat timid mother was not about to let what she and the other teachers viewed as unfair issues (I forget what they were, now) prevail. There she was on the picket line in December, in the cold, carrying a sign and marching. I was never prouder of her. It was only a couple of years later that the health problems she had experienced for 25 years were diagnosed as MS. I think they were the first teachers to strike in Minnesota. I also believe that the legislature reversed the law not long after and I don’t think teachers can strike anymore. I may be wrong about that.
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cool, Renee.
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No, I can’t think of any real uprisings that I have been a part of. I have participated in some rallies and carried signs, but nothing too radical. I do have a fairly rebellious nature and tend to question things on a daily basis, though. At work, when I’m instructed to do things that will take a lot of time and benefit only a few people in a business or HR office far, far away, I tend to ask “Why?” It hasn’t helped me win any popularity contests. I can only hope that I have caused another state employee to question why they’re requiring something that will have very little impact for the taxpayers of Minnesota.
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I’ve been pretty excited about something and I’ve been waiting to tell you all about it! Mike Pengra has produced a live recording of Rock Bend Folk Festival 2010. It will air on Radio Heartland on February 18 at 7 p.m., February 19 at 3 p.m. and February 21 at 7 p.m. I think Mike will be announcing it on RH and it’s still possible that the dates and times can change. Listen for Rock Bend coming to you live on Radio Heartland! 🙂
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Woo hoo!
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That is SO cool, Krista. And Mike!
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but how much does it cost?
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Yayayayayay! That is awesome. Thanks Krista and Mike!
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Only thing I can remember is a student march protesting the Vietnam War in 1969 or 70, in Ames Iowa…
OT – We are home. Husband got un-detained today. There is a lot of work ahead of us, but “There’s no place like home.” Hope to read the above soon… Have suddenly found out how demanding Husband can be.
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we all wish you a speedy recovery (cut him a little slack for a day or two before you go on strike, he may mellow out after a bit) good health is never so important as when its not there. hope its back soon
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Yes, and now make your space at home. And can anyone cover for you to take breaks?
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good suggestion
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Glad you are home – healing happens better there (away from the constant din of the hospital and where your “stuff” is…). Use all the services offered to you – and say “yes” if friends offer help, food, time to sit with Husband so you can nap, go to the grocery store, whatever. Wishing you both speedy return to strength and good health.
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BiR
You guys sure are made of sturdy stuff to be home already. Impressive!!!!
Sending healing vibes your way!
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We drove up from Phoenix to Flagstaff today, climbs 4000 feet, through rain and snow showers, very light, with the clouds going over and through the mountains around us. Very nice drive.
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savor it. sounds wonderful
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