It Ain't Truth If It Doesn't Hurt

I'm Going Home...

For those of you that are truly camp movie freaks as I am...then you will know that the title of this blog entry is also the title of a song from one Rocky Horror Picture Show...and now that I have titled my blog the title of the song I can't get the song out of my head. And I realize...I'm going home....

And it's true. I am going home. Not quite soon enough but soon enough according to the standards set by someone other than myself...because if I were the one making the decision...I would pack up post hate and be half-way through Colorado before I hit send on this here post. Having moved to Albuquerque and done the work that I have done over the last several months has been a definite growth and learning experience. I'm not disappointed in the choice I made to come down here...regardless of the fact that the damn organization closed officially today...I did the best I could with what I had...perhaps there was something else/more I could have done...but those are whyfors and should haves, and we don't play that game...we only play games that we can win...like Texas Hold 'Em and Porn Play Along.

Yesterday I emailed the Hutchinson campaign and said sure thing right on you betcha to the position they offered me a couple of weeks ago. The pay is crap...but the payoff with Peter as Governor of Minnesota is so worth another few months of destitution. I called Karla, Peter's wife, to let her and Peter know that I was going to accept the position. I've said it before...and I'll say it again...and one more time if necessary...Karla Eckdahl is a helluva woman...one of the most gracious people I know.

So...sometime around the end of May...I will be packing my things back into the Kaiser (God help with that process...without Chris as Packing Committee Chairperson on the way down here...I would have managed to fit only one box and my overnight bag into the car...I am packing challenged) and hauling my butt back to Minnesota...poorer than ever...but a little bit wiser.

One thing that I've come to realize is that although there was once a time in my life when I could just pack up my things and go off to try and do good work somewhere without really needing to worry about whether or not I knew people in the new location...that time is gone gone gone. Let me steal a line from Samoore..."Bitch might dress like a Power Ranger...but I ain't no strong woman when it comes to being strong like that...I need help from the gate."

My community is a must have necessity. Don't get me wrong...I have some fantastic friends here in the 'Burque...especially Monie T. I would not have made it without Miss Mone-ster. But I need COMMUNITY...all caps like...I want to walk down the street and run into Damien wearing something too tight...or Jan power walking during her lunch at the U of MN...or lunches with C-Monkey downtown at this or that Asian eatery...and Chris...and Pookie...and Wifey...and Sandie the Homely Dog DAMMIT!  I want meetings where people are friendly...and to just be in a place where if you are having a shitty day...you can do something besides sit in your apartment...alone...wondering if you can wish your walls a different color.  And then trying to figure out if you have enough blood in your system to paint one wall red before needing a transfusion. These are the things I think about...well...not really...but I thought of it just now...so I guess they are the things that I think about...I need to go to bed.

I am looking forward to getting back to a place where I don't get excited if I manage to spot grass that isn't in my front yard...where the terrain isn't done in the Gap Khaki palette...and where people who call themselves Hispanics have just had a momentary lapse in judgement and quickly recall that Hispanic is a term that was made up by Richard Nixon and company to Anglo-cize Latinos and ignores the rich history of Africans and Indigenous peoples in Spanish and Portguese speaking nations of the Americas. Stupid Hispanics. If I meet ONE more Latino down here that is darker than I am but insists that all of their ancestors came from Spain...and they managed to live in New Mexico for the  last 350 years without every marrying an indigenous person of some stripe...I am going to start slapping people at random. I was talking to this guy today that looks like Rigoberta Menchu and Cesar Chavez's love child, and he told me that all his ancestors except one came from Spain...and the other was from Mexico. I wanted to tell him that unless Spain was once called Ochopochouxtilcaliltlan that more than one of his ancestors was indigenous. 

Yeah...moving back to Minnestoa...I wonder how long it will last this time...the last spell lasted four years...perhaps this time I'll get home...look around...and realize that the grass isn't greener in the other pasture...hell...some pastures don't have grass at all.

Oh Ye Unfaithful Masses

So today I take a peek to see how many folks have taken a moment to read my mundane musings here at It Ain't Truth If It Doesn't Hurt.  On any given day between 60 and 150 people stop by and sit for a spell. In the last 24 hours....exactly two people have directed their browsers to this...my little piece of the cyber-verse. How fickle are the whims of the masses. This is exactly the reason why we can't be trusted to elect our President directly. No fidelity...no follow through...no committment. If I had my way...after this little debacle...I would reinstate the property requirement for voting.

I spent the last week in New York and DC doing some work and visiting my pals...once again it was a fantastic trip spent with fantastic friends doing fantastic things on exactly .42 cents a day. Nothing like sitting in an upscale sushi bar in NoHo surrounded by all the most beautiful people sipping water in a martini glass with no ice in it to help enhance the illusion.

I was very excited about this trip to New York because I got to spend an afternoon with the Munkis. Seeing Ben in New York was kinda like seeing the Pope at a dive bar in Jersey. But Ben seemed to be adapting well...gone were his signature overalls that were so at home in Clara City, MN...replaced by couture jeans and a tight fitting DKNY sweater. Come to think of it...I'm not sure anymore if that was Ben I saw in Union Square...who the heck did I have coffee with...hmmmm.  I scooted down to DC and spent a couple of days/nights with my Non-Romantic Life Partner Jason...even though he spent most of the time ingoring me and making sweet love to a Yale fellowship application...I wouldn't have traded being ignored in person for being ignored at a distance for anything. Love ya JR.

I'm going through a whole range of crazy emotions right now as YouthAction enters its final hours...I may write more about that tomorrow...you'll have to stop back by and see...but for now...I must be off to make a deposit at the Porcelain Bank.