How did we get to this point that we are in?  You see there is truth and there are lies. There is truth in some lies, and there are lies in some truths. Some people believe the lie to be the truth and others the truth to be the lie. We have a Country formed on the pinnacles of two ideas, Democracy and Religion. For the first 150 years of our country our Democracy was a lie.  It stated that all men were created equal and all men could vote, but that was a lie. Only white privileged men could vote, and then only white men. When others were allowed to vote, we stated that all men and women were equal, but that was a lie. Because we have systemically continued to privilege white men, like myself, over everyone else. The call for Black lives Matter is simply an attempt to make that truth a reality, because the reality is that in today’s world they don’t.  Saying they do is a lie, but a lie that should be a truth.  Our other pinnacle is that of Religion.  Despite all the scientific proof many people still believe that God created the entire universe in seven days, and that woman was made from man’s rib.  They believe that evolution is a lie.  They believe that if God could create the universe in 7 days that he could fabricate the lie of evolution. But why would God create some Watergate type reality?  If he/she/zhe did then where are the tapes?  So why do people believe what the orange haired so called President says?  Its because we have never dealt with the underlying lies that have shaped our country.  We are like an equation where 2+2 = 6.  Everyone knows that that is not the truth. When the whole foundation is crooked, what is one more lie?  What we need is a truth and reconciliation committee.  A group that can go into every fabric of our country and clean out the lies that we have built our country on.  While President Obama was a great President when he had the chance to call out the lie of our country’s financial and banking system, he backed  away.  Instead he just propped it up. He was worried that pulling out the lie would collapse the whole system. Maybe it would have. Maybe we must confront the adversity caused by our history of lies, before we can again be one republic under God.

Long car rides go faster if you sing together.

There is always one sibling who remembers all the words.

There is always one sibling who messes up the words on purpose.

We learned who the pipes were calling for,

how to accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative,

what to do if we lost the girl we loved on one of those thousand islands,

and what to do if we ever went across the sea to Ireland.

All because if the air pilot said it, we had to give him credit.

We knew that Alice the camel had two humps, but really wasn’t a camel,

that it takes a lot of effort to get to the end of 100 bottles of beer,

and that John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt is a great car song,

no matter if you sing it loud or soft.

We also learned that whether you were three little angels or three little devils,

whether you tried to get to heaven on a thread or a kite string,

that at the end of the long car ride, you would all be safely tucked in bed.

© words by Dan DeMarle 2017

Liver goes better with bacon.

Bedtime goes better with stories.

Powdered milk is necessary sometimes,  but real milk tastes better.

Boo boos heal faster with kisses.

London bridge may go falling down, but your family is there to catch you.

© words by Dan DeMarle 2017

Are you a flower or are you a moss?   Flowers grow from seeds and bulbs.  Flower people can trace their ancestry back generations and have often grown up in well protected beds.  Moss grows from spores.  It has no seeds or bulbs.  It can grow anywhere. It is durable.  Walking in a cold February day, in the midst of a little ice storm, here was this gorgeous greenery.  Moss can grow on trees, soil, rocks. You can find it at the bottom of a mountain, and on the rocks and stone at the top.  In the language of flowers, moss means charity and maternal love. So when it is time to give your child a bouquet or a boutonniere, have the florist add some moss to it.  You could do very well, by raising your children to be moss, and not flowers.

© words and pictures by Daniel DeMarle 2017

What exactly are they selling by the hour?  Love this sign on East Avenue.  I often stop here for full service gas, but just for the gas.

2-17-17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017.

It is amazing how weather can change art. In this case adding a hat (beret) and shoulder armor and boot to the male figure.

In the outdoor sculpture park at the Memorial Art Gallery.

2/14/17

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

“Governments are deemed to succeed or fail by how well they make money go round, regardless of whether it serves any useful purpose. They regard it as a sacred duty to encourage the country’s most revolting spectacle: the annual feeding frenzy in which shoppers queue all night, then stampede into the shops, elbow, trample and sometimes fight to be the first to carry off some designer junk which will go into landfill before the sales next year. The madder the orgy, the greater the triumph of economic management.”
― George Monbiot

While this is true, I  prefer to shop at places where, at least, I am supporting local artists and owners. That way I can, at a minimum, pat myself on my back and feel somewhat cleaner, and not quite as much as a mindless whore to the economy.

12/23/16

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2016

Look carefully because these are hiding everywhere.

© words and pictures by Dan DeMarle 2017

After I grew and moved out of the house, and indeed started my own family, I would talk regularly with my parents on the phone, or go visit them.  Often my mother would ask me if I remembered so and so. I almost never did. Maybe they were parents of one of the my other siblings friends, or from a connection with my parents that I was not part of.  Then my mother would proceed to tell me that they had died.  They were at that age in life when lots of friends and acquaintances were dying. She would tell me, often about how she and my father went to the funeral or to the wake or calling hours.  In doing so, my mother reinforced in me many lessons about the power of connections, also about the importance of showing up at funerals.  These now deceased individuals had played a small or large part in my parents’ life or lives together, and now they were gone, but their family still survived. Being able to be there to say a few kind words, or just simply being seen there helps the mourners know that their loved one was important and valued.  Being able to tell a story about them, that their children or grandchildren might not know is like giving a gift.  So as much as I can, I attempt to attend calling hours, often as much to honor the survivors as to honor the deceased individual. It’s what my parents taught me.

© words by Dan DeMarle 2017