Sunday, August 04, 2013
"Some things you just gotta have in order to know you don't need!"
Given the chasm that has developed between the haves and have-nots in this country -- one can hardly imagine how we're going to save ourselves from the doom of environmental disaster being brought on by our country's excesses. It is we who have consumed the King's share of the earth's resources over time, and it is within our power to try now to trim our needs to what is more equitable for the sake of humanity.
And ... there's a racial factor here in that so many people of color have been held down for so many decades that a backlog of wants and needs has developed through advertising and incessant promotional campaigns, and that we're now being encouraged to set aside in order to save the planet.
White folks tell us that many of the conveniences that we've been educated to see as essential are not. We're being told that we not only don't need them, but that we must now simplify our lives by living in more sustainable ways. "We've had all that stuff, and we know that you don't need it -- not only that, but your having it will put us all at risk of losing our space ship, Earth!"
I'm not sure just how well that's working out for us ...
It will be difficult, indeed, to convince a family without a roof over its head that sleeping under the stars is a privilege to be savored.
We have generations of folks, worldwide, who have yet to learn the lessons of Papa George's at least one too-many marriages.
My work remains meaningful; the public encounters continues to feed me and those with whom I'm in contact on both my tours and the commentaries in our little theater.
I was reminded of a conversation with cousin Paul or his wife, Shirley, or with cousin Armand, with whom I visited in New Orleans last December. It was after one of our visits to St. Louis cemetery in the successful search for the grave of our cousin-in-common, Amable Charbonnet (bd 1790), that talk came around to the actual burial procedures suggested by the historic setting.
(By way of explanation of how so many could be buried in the same family crypt); "... as the remains decay over the years, they're pushed to a drop slot at the back of the crypt to make room for the new burial." There was a word for that but I've since forgotten what it is.
For reasons unknown, this is the rising image of my thought processes of late:
Just behind memories-in-progress -- like yesterday's heady experience of awkwardly pretending to be dancing in a Green Screen Production for public access television -- with a choreographer and a
... and at a time when my life is winnowing away in the moments with not nearly enough left for me to do it all over again.
There will be others to fill my place in this March through Time, but despite this feeling of urgency and purpose -- mine will surely be running out, and soon.
I'm being diminished -- gradually -- by recent deaths of dear friends and acquaintances, with each a reminder of the approach of endings ... and wondering just how well am I managing my own exit?