Al Young title

MICHAEL JACKSON: IN MEMORIAM, 1958-2009

June 27th, 2009

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Courtesy photo

“Just look over your shoulders, honey!”
– Michael Jackson with the Jackson Five, “I’ll Be There
(1970)

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Lisa Marie Presley

“Years ago Michael and I were having a deep conversation about life in general,” [Lisa Marie] Presley, 41, writes. “He stared at me very intensely and he stated with an almost calm certainty, ‘I am afraid that I am going to end up like [Elvis Presley], the way he did.’ I promptly tried to deter him from the idea, at which point he just shrugged his shoulders and nodded almost matter of fact as if to let me know, he knew what he knew and that was kind of that.”
– Lisa Marie Presley,
People, 26 June 2009

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When Thriller hit, I was fully in my forties and jumping up and down on my exercise rebounder in the livingroom of the little house I shared with my wife and son. There was no music better for bouncing the body about to stay in shape. Rebounders were all the rage, and so was Jackson. To “Billie Jean” or “Beat It,” I could work up a sweet sweat and take delight in flailing my arms and twisting my body in disco dance postures soon to expire. Out of the corner of my ear and eye I had followed the Jackson Five phenomenon: the bubble-gum Motown pop hits, the TV cartoon show, the remarkable resurrection of MTV with the airing of Jackson’s “Billie Jean” — I took all this in the way we always register our culture at large; it was all in the air. Up in the air now is the future of celebrity worship. That consumers (as distinct from citizens) of the United States respect and pay tribute to the alleged achievement of rich, famous  individuals tells us how lonely and isolated we remain.

– Al Young

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Brooks Barnes: A Star Idolized and Haunted, Michael Jackson Dies at 50, New York Times, June 25, 2009

Richard Prince: Michael Jackson Death Dominates the News, Journal-Isms (Maynard Institute), June 26, 2009

Steve Kendall: Neither Black Nor White, Spin, June 26, 2009

David Walsh: Michael Jackson’s death, World Socialist Web Site, June 26, 2009

Ishmael Reed: The Persecution of Michael Jackson, CounterPunch, June 29, 2009

Esther Iverem: Never Can Say Goodbye, SeeingBlack.com, June 30, 2009

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eimichael

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Cecil Brown: Social Drama or Feeding Frenzy? The Media Sharks Are Circling Michael Jackson, San Francisco Chronicle, December 7, 2003

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Michael Jackson 25 Years After Thriller | Ebony/NPR (2008)

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I’ll Be There
video mash-up
(Jackson Five)

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Billie Jean

video
(Michael Jackson)

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Promo photo for Moonwalker | Apollo moon shot © NASA

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ALI AKBAR KHAN (14 April 1922-18 June 2009)

June 20th, 2009

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Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, master sarodist

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Born in East Bengal (Bangladesh), the inspirational virtuoso and teacher of music  has died at his San Anselmo, CA home.

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Ali Akbar Khan College of Music obituary

Swara Samrat Maestro Ali Akbar Khan
April 14, 1922 – June 18, 2009

Our most beloved Khansahib passed away peacefully, surrounded by his family on Thursday evening.  Khansahib had been a dialysis patient since 2004, and had been enduring numerous health issues ever since.  The great Maestro had continued his music teachings publically at the Ali Akbar College until just weeks ago, and continued to teach music at home until the day he died.

The memorial service and burial will be held at Mt. Tamalpais Cemetary (2500 5th Ave, San Rafael, CA 94901), Sunday, June 21st at noon, followed by a gathering at the AACM.  Due to the overwhelming amount of phone calls, please send all correspondence via email to inmemoryofaak@gmail.com .
All messages will be received and as many as possible will be responded to.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to AACM for the Ali Akbar Khan Library.

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William Grimes: “Ali Akbar Khan, Sarod Virtuoso, Dies at 87″; New York Times, 19 June 2009

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MISRA MAND, Part 2

Ustad Ali Akbar Khan & Pandit Nikhil Banerjee

Listen and view

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Forthcoming: Poet Al Young’s stories about his late guitarist friend Perry Lederman’s association as student and staffer with Ali Akbar Khan, and Young’s own 1990 poetry & sarod concert taped in Dhaka, Bangladesh with the grand-nephew of the great master. Young will also interview saxophonist John Handy, who recorded and toured worldwide with Khan during the 1970’s and 80’s.

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MARVIN X ON “THE BLACK DIALOGUE BROTHERS TOUR”

June 19th, 2009

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(L-R) Aubry Labrie, Marvin X , Abdul Sabri, Al Young, Arthur Sheridan, Duke Williams |  Sausalito, CA, 18 June 2009

Photo: Michael Childs

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They came together at  the 65th birthday party of Marvin X, a group of men who ignited black liberation on the West Coast during the 1960’s while students at San Francisco State University, namely Abdul Sabri, Aubry Labrie, Duke Williams, Arthur Sheridan and Marvin X. Also Saddat Ahmed and Joe Goncalves, who went on to publish the bible of 60’s poetry, the Journal of Black Poetry.

The group traveled to Soledad prison to present and perform at the black culture club, chaired by Eldridge Cleaver and his lieutenant Alprentice Bunchy Carter. Arthur Sheridan had been contacted by Cleaver’s lawyer Beverly Axelrod to make the Soledad prison visit. Black Dialogue was Art’s idea and he became the founding editor.

This culture club was the beginning of the black prison movement in America, and when Black Dialogue met the club, it established a unity between the prison movement and black students who were also members of the budding black arts movement. Black Dialogue and the Journal of Black Poetry were major publications of BAM with influence coast to coast. These journals, along with Soulbook ( a RAM publication) and John H. Johnson’s Negro Digest/Black World, the New Lafayette Black Theatre, were critical publications of the neo-black intellectuals nationwide, spreading radical consciousness into the black liberation movement in general.

It was Art Sheridan who told Marvin X he might consider hooking up with a playwright named Ed Bullins and the two formed Black Arts West Theater in the Fillmore, 1966, a West coast version of what LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka, Askia Touré, Larry Neal, Sun Ra and others were doing in Harlem.

On Thursday night [18 June 2009], Black Dialogue brothers came together to present at a poetry venue hosted by Arthur Sheridan in Sausalito, a mostly white community near San Francisco, where Arthur is the Black Prince who lives in a houseboat in the Bay. California’s Poet Laureate emeritus Al Young was the featured poet. Al also contributed poetry to Black Dialogue and acknowledged Art for showcasing his early work, as did Marvin X. Duke Williams also read, although Duke was modest since he is a singer as well. Marvin read from his memoir: Eldridge Cleaver, My Friend the Devil.

The Brothers agreed to continue their Black Dialogue tour. Al Young agreed to join them [as his schedule allows]. They will co-sponsor and perform at Marvin X’s August 1st book signing and conversation (with James W. Sweeney) at the Joyce Gordon Gallery, 14th and Franklin, downtown Oakland.

Ladies, watch out! Marvin’s sister Debbie said she didn’t know her brother had such handsome friends.

Call 510.355.6339 for more information. Catch Marvin X’s classic play, Flowers for the Trashman, at the San Francisco Theater Festival in July.

– Marvin X

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PHOTO FROM TEHRAN

June 16th, 2009

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Go to the source:  Shambhala SunSpace
“Compassion in Chaos” by Steve Silberman


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“A backer of Mir Hossein Mousavi helps evacuate an injured riot-police officer during riots in Tehran on June 13, 2009.  | © Olivier Laban-Mattei/AFP/Getty Images

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2009 SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL

May 26th, 2009

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© San Francisco Film Society

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Go to the source

Reviews by David Walsh and Joanne Laurier for the World Socialist Web Site

Part 1:  PAINFUL TRUTHS
David Walsh

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Sacred Places (Lieux Saints)
Documentary, 2009, Cameroon/France, 70 minutes

Jean-Marie Teno (Chief!) from Cameroon has made a film centered on a local “cine-club,” where movies are shown at low prices, in Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. The production notes describe it as a work “about the fight to survive and to maintain one’s dignity in a hostile environment.”

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Part 2:  HUMAN DRAMA, PARTIALLY TREATED
David Walsh

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Everything Strange and New
(co-stars Bay Area poet Beth Lisick)

Cinema by the Bay, 2008, USA, 83 minutes

Wayne (Jerry McDaniel), a carpenter, who lives in Oakland, California, begins by explaining that his marriage was initially pressure-free. Children arrived, two of them, and complications arose. The ad agency that employed his wife Renée (Beth Lisick) “went belly up.” Child care was too expensive and there was no point in her looking for other work. Wayne and Renée bought a house when they “were still cheap,” but now, like many others, the couple is in “negative equity.” In fact, they are only falling deeper in debt.

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Part 3:  THE TRAUMA PRODUCED BY EVENTS
Joanne Laurier

dont-let-me-drown-pt-23 wee-play1

Don’t Let Me Drown
Feature film, 2008, USA, 105 minutes

New York City’s post-traumatic stress in the immediate aftermath of the September 11 terrorist attacks is the setting for [UC Berkeley graduate] director Cruz Angeles’s debut feature film, Don’t Let Me Drown.

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© 2009 World Socialist Web Site | wsws.org

THE JOSEPH McNAIR YouTube ARCHIVE OF POETS READING AT MIAMI DADE COLLEGE

May 20th, 2009

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Visit the jmcnair999 channel at YouTube

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SOME SELECTIONS

spot-play Joseph McNair: “Requiem for a Soldier Poet

spot-play6 devorah major: “Love Offering”

spot-play1Quincy Troupe discusses two of his books: The Pursuit of Happyness and Miles and Me

spot-play2 Opal Palmer Adisa: “The Necessity of Punctuation”

spot-play4 Reginald Lockett: “Yes”

spot-play5 Al Young: “Notes on the Future of Love”

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View the more than 124 poem readings posted by Dr. Joseph McNair at YouTube. They include performances by Quincy Troupe, Eugene Redmond, devorah major, Opal Palmer Adisa, the late Reginald Lockett, and California’s poet laureate emeritus
Al Young.

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Joseph McNair
Photo © Michael Stroder Marko

Joseph McNair, Professor of Education at Miami Dade College, is a prolific poet, essayist, and novelist. He edits Asili: The Journal of Multicultural Heartspeak, an influential African American online literary review.

Visit the all-new Asili the Journal Blogspot

ASILI NIGHT | Miami International Book Fair 2007
Photos at AlYoung.org

Al Young poems at Asili: The Journal of Multicultural Heartspeak, 1997

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CALIFORNIA SPECIAL ELECTION RESULTS | May 19, 2009 | Easy Voter Guide

May 16th, 2009

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papers Election Returns

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Still confused about the propositions on which Californians voted in the special state election of Tuesday, May 19, 2009?

vote-x

1A 1B 1C 1D 1E 1F

In clear, plain language Easy Voter Guide breaks it all down in pro’s and cons — and multilingually, too.

ez-voter-guide Clickable

The nonpartisan Easy Voter Guide Project is a service of the League of Women Voters of California Education Fund in collaboration with the California State Library and the California Secretary of State’s Office. The James Irvine Foundation provides additional support to the Easy Voter Guide Project.

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REMEMBERING JAMES D. HOUSTON

April 19th, 2009

November 10, 1933 - April 16, 2009

jim-houston-with-lei-19872 Jim Houston in 1987

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Photo: Jana Marcus

Novelist, essayist, biographer, memoirist, journalist, screenwriter, teacher, lecturer, bassist, guitarist

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Go to the Santa Cruz Sentinel original

Friends, admirers gather to remember James Houston

SANTA CRUZ — From mournful Scottish bagpipes to a moving Hawaiian chant, the spirit of writer James D. Houston was celebrated Saturday in a remembrance that attracted an estimated 500 people.

Houston, who died at the age of 75 on April 16, was one of Santa Cruz’s most celebrated literary figures and his memorial service reflected the essence of a man who was of Scottish ancestry, with Texas roots and an abiding love for Hawaii, but who was above all a man of California.

Writer and filmmaker Geoffrey Dunn, a close family friend, hosted the memorial that also featured such leading literary lights as novelist Maxine Hong Kingston, Hawaiian musical legend Eddie Kamae and former California poet laureate Al Young.

“We’re here to honor the life of a radiant spirit,” said Dunn in his opening, stressing that the gathering was a “celebration.” In that spirit, many of the attendees came dressed in aloha shirts and other festive flower prints.

Houston’s influence encompassed his work as an author of eight novels and numerous essays and non-fiction books, many of them reflections on California history and culture. He was also a teacher and workshop leader at UC Santa Cruz and several other universities and was a long-time board member of the Squaw Valley Community of Writers. He and his wife, Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston, lived in the East Cliff Drive house that once belonged to Donner Party survivor Patty Reed.

Santa Cruz arts patron and Houston friend

George Ow Jr. reflected in wonder on Houston’s many blessings, including his three children, his career and his house. “He had it all,” said Ow. Guest speaker Jeannette Paulson is the director of the Hawaiian Film Festival, which was the direct inspiration for the Pacific Rim Film Festival in Santa Cruz, founded by the Houstons and Ow. She remembered her first meeting with the Houstons. “My life was never quite the same after meeting Jim and Jeannie Houston.”

Kamae, the Hawaiian ukulele legend turned documentary filmmaker, collaborated on seven films about Hawaiian life and culture with Jim Houston. He and his wife Myrna flew in from Hawaii; Eddie, his voice croaking with emotion, sang a song called “We’ll See You at Home.”

Music was a central facet of Houston’s life — he earned a living as a guitar teacher and played in a jug band in Santa Cruz in the 1960s. Kamae’s song and the haunting bagpipes of Santa Cruz piper Jay Salter were the only scheduled musical events, but there were impromptu moments as well, as when poet and friend Al Young began singing Hank Williams’s “Hey, Good Lookin’,” adding later of his relationship with Houston, “We loved each other and that doesn’t end.”

Hawaiian chanter Kalae Miles closed the service with a chant titled “A Love Chant for James,” which capped an afternoon of friends, family and admirers trying to express the legacy of a man of wide-ranging passions and interests. Novelist Kingston, who shared the stage with her husband actor Earll Kingston, left the audience with the reminder that Houston’s influence continues.

“Right now, Jim is hearing us,” she said, “and if we listen carefully, we can hear him, too”

© 2009 Santa Cruz Sentinel

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CONTINUING


for Jim & Jeanie Houston

Take time as lubricant or
time as deterrent, it can
either oil my gears or stop
me right here in my tracks for
snow or grass to cover up.

Green leaves, red leaves, fallen leaves
—a matter of time, distance,
room for change to happen in.
Death’s as much a happening
as birth, a process, a move,
a moving forth always, the
end never in sight except
perhaps to the gifted blind.

How much distance does the heart
cover in one lifetime of
beating? How much love is killed
in its final wising up
to the sad ways of the world?

If I’ve ignored time for months
in order to concentrate
on getting by & basics,
it’s because a light within
me that once flashed red or green
is gradually yellowing,
casually mellowing me
for lifetimes of vigilance.

– Al Young
©1975 and 1992 by Al Young

Composed for good luck in seven-syllable lines for Jim and Jeanne Houston, this poem appears in The Song Turning Back Into Itself, the poet-novelist’s second poetry collection (Holt Rinehart Winston, 1975).

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JACKET COPY

Go to Carolyn Kellogg’s original Jacket Copy reflection at the L.A. Times

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Photo: Susan Gilbert
James and Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston, 1984

Novelist James D. Houston Dies at 75; Explored California in His Works

Known for writing fiction and nonfiction, Houston was considered a leading author in the literature of  the West. “Few writers have more consistently addressed the enduring issues arising out of the California experience than James D. Houston,” said Kevin Starr, historian and author of the seven-volume California Dream series. “He set standards by which the rest of us judged our own efforts.”

“Jim epitomizes what we think of as a California writer,” Alan Soldofsky, head of the creative writing program at San Jose State, where Houston, an alumnus, was recently writer-in-residence. “He had a consummate awareness of place and of the effect of both the natural and human communities on the writer’s psyche living on the edge of the continent.”

Born in San Francisco, Houston attended the city’s high-achieving, ethnically diverse Lowell High School. He went to San Jose State in 1952, where he met Jeanne Wakatsuki; they married in 1957. They moved to England where he served as an information officer with the Air Force. After three years and travels through Europe, they returned to Northern California, where Houston earned a master’s in American literature at Stanford, studying with Wallace Stegner.

His first book was “Between Battles” (1968), a humorous novel about Americans on an Air Force base during the Cold War. His second novel, “Gig” (1969), set in a piano bar on the California coast, established his literary reputation.

He and his wife had been married 15 years before he learned that she had been interned with her family during World War II. “He was my shrink. He helped me get it out,” Wakatsuki Houston said Friday, about the genesis of “Farewell to Manzanar.” “He’d write a draft, I’d write a draft. It was a true collaboration.”

With Jack Hicks, Maxine Hong Kingston and Al Young, Houston edited the omnibus “The Literature of California,” helping to give shape to the idea of a writing tradition unique to the Golden State. He also wrote books about surfing and Hawaiin ukulele legend Eddie Kamae. He was a longtime and well-regarded writing teacher.

His family has asked that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Squaw Valley Community of Writers.

Carolyn Kellogg

© 2009 L.A. Times

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REMEMBERING CHARLES MINGUS | WHEN JOHNNY COMES MARCHING HOME: CARING FOR VETERANS

April 6th, 2009

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ZĂłcalo Public Square Lecture Series

Remembering Charles Mingus

mingus-bowing © Tom Marcello

A ZĂłcalo/City of Los Angeles Department of Cultural Affairs Event

Moderated by Oscar Garza, Senior Editor, Los Angeles Daily News

Tuesday, April 28, 2009, 7:30 pm

Barnsdall Gallery Theatre
4800 Hollywood Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90027
Free parking in the lot at the bottom of the hill and in parking spaces surrounding the perimeter of the Barnsdall Art Park.
Barnsdall Gallery Theatre
MAP IT|GO METRO

From his first concert piece, written when he was 17, to his expansive, 19-movement, 4,000-measure opus “Epitaph,” Charles Mingus built a remarkable legacy as a jazz bassist, band leader, and composer. His body of work is second only to Duke Ellington’s in size, and arguably matches it in quality, combining innovation with mastery, spontaneity with precise orchestration, tuneful melodies with pulsing rhythms and inimitable flurries of sound. Mingus, who grew up in Watts, was also a teacher to many musicians at his Jazz Workshop, an activist for racial equality, and a performer praised for his passion and lambasted for his temper. Thirty years after his death, ZĂłcalo hosts a panel — featuring music producer Hal Willner, writer Emory Holmes II, and the jazz great’s son Eric Mingus, also a musician — to discuss the life and continuing legacy of the jazz great.

mingus-by-harvey-pekar© Harvey Pekar

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CBS News: 16 Veterans Infected by Contaminated VA Hospital Equipment

When Johnny Comes Marching Home: Caring for Veterans

iraqwarcaskets iraq-war-vets-ill-at-ease

Moderated by Jia-Rui Chong, Los Angeles Times Veterans Affairs Reporter

Thursday, April 30, 2009, 7:00 pm

The Hammer Museum
10899 Wilshire Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90024
310.443.7000
MAP IT|GO METRO

Tens of thousands of American soldiers have suffered injuries in the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, including debilitating head and spine damage, chronic pain, and mental health problems. They return home to a devastatingly overburdened veterans’ healthcare system, plagued by months-long waits for doctors and several times more disability claims than estimated. As the war on terror continues, and as emergency medical care at the front thankfully saves many lives, the country’s young veterans will need better care for years to come. ZĂłcalo hosts a panel of medical and military experts — including Jennifer Sinclair, sister of an Army captain who served in Iraq, Army Major Gen. (Retired) Paul E. Mock, and a doctor from the Dept. of Veterans Affairs Long Beach — to discuss how to heal the minds and bodies of returning soldiers.

RESERVATIONS

Please visit www.ZĂłcaloPublicSquare.org

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iraq_war-vets

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Conyus: THE GREAT SANTA BARBARA OIL DISASTER

March 22nd, 2009

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npr-logo Lessons learned from the Santa Barbara Oil Spill

spkr2 Listen

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Ripples of the Santa Barbara Oil Spill
L.A. Times | September 7, 2008

oil-spill-latimes-7sept2008 © L.A. Times

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© 1969 Associated Press

The Great Santa Barbara Oil Disaster: Or A Diary

Day one

We ride down the coast hwy
through the heavy rain
to a beach that sits in a rocky cove
hidden from the eye.
I sit in the rear of the bus
where the shadows pass
over cold metal walls
& window screens,
looking through dirty glass
at the somber scenery.
A young Mexican girl stands in the muddy debris
of her home, rummaging through the mud.
The river flooded suddenly two days ago
after a torrential rain & shifted the terrain.
Overhead the clouds mount menacingly
in small squalls, prostituting themselves again
against the sky, & we turn left off the freeway
into the spent community of Carpinteria
like a funeral procession on a grey Saturday,
heading to the bone yard in tandem.
Beyond the border of thin sidewalks,
sit bleached out houses on paper stilts
with tattered venetian blinds & curtains
barely moving on the stiff ocean breeze.
We walk beneath the bleeding sky
single file to the oily beach in perfect silence;
everything around us is a chemical foundry.

Day two

The 1st. night
we arrived,
the college girls
in the dormitory
across from us
paraded before
their window in
bras & panties,
being friendly.
The people
came to watch us work,
in hip boots & work gloves,
cleaning oil & shoveling straw.
Some said, “my! don’t they look almost human?”
Others said, “a convict is a crime. don’t forget that!”
Sometimes the children’s ball
bounded in our area,
& the Spanish inmates
soccer kicked it back lightly.
We all laughed
& smiled a lot
the first day.
The sunset & the night
came on slowly.
From out of the night
came gargoyles
with church fathers
& concerned parents
to tell the children
not to play
within the border of red flags
& the fence of thick cane around us.
Because,
the sky would fall
& hell would follow,
if they instilled
licentious ambitions
in our minds.

& so
we didn’t laugh
anymore, or smile
at all the second day.
From that day forward,
we just worked,
hard & steady,
with our heads
low & our eyes
to the ground,
so the sky
wouldn’t fall,
& the people
wouldn’t know,
& the world
wouldn’t burn.

Day three

All day we work behind the sea breaker
in the black sand, shoveling straw
& thick lumps of oil
into the mouth of the skip loader,
while the cat skinner rides high
in the driver’s seat with a hole for his eye.
On the beach,
in the window
of the Santa Barbara Yacht Club,
Black servants watch us
swing picks & shovels
in the wet sand
like machetes
clearing a cane field
on their small island
in the Caribbean.
On a concrete wall
below this Diaspora
i sit & swing my legs over the ice plants
& puddles of oil where sand crabs,
& small fish lie dead
& stinking in the sun.
Beneath my work jacket
i touch the crushed sandwich
of white bread & yellow cheese
& think of the young Chinese girl
in the pink hairnet with braces.
After lunch we return with rakes & hip booths,
wading through the constant tide
of thick oil & grey foam,
to gather balls of sticky oil
stuck between rocks,
& place them in yellow plastic bags.
Along the beach
the tide falls back out to sea,
taking with it the trail of our feet
that follows us like a shadow.
I turn my back to the Santa Barbara Sound
& pull the weather jacket tight
to shield against the cold & damp air.
Over my shoulder,
past the far islands near the horizon,
someone is singing a song,
that i can barely hear,
in a voice
that i cannot recognize.

santa-barbara-oil-spill-1969-mapped.jpg

The 1969 Santa Barbara Oil Spill viewed by satellite

Day four

The children
come down
to the beach
with their dogs
barking happily
at their feet.
They watch us
rake the debris
in huge piles
for the cat skinner
to eat with his shovel.
The surf around us
is a gumbo of sludge, oil,
& dead birds cooking in the sun
& salt air.

The children
throw
enormous
blocks of blue ice
into the ocean
to cleanse our sins
& methodically
the night descends
like a curtain.

Day five

The women of Santa Barbara
watch us drag driftwood
across the rocky beach
to the gas chamber at San Quentin.
They protest
against the death sentence
& the inhumanity,
of humanity,
then go home
to husbands
& kill babies
in the morning
with a small pill
while we sleep.

Day six

Green toads
croak
on the black
asphalt
rain pond.
Dawn opens
with tenderness
from the sky.
A white gull
floats face upward
in the murky surf;
i watch the tide
push the gull
against the rocks,
again & again,
& again & again.

Day seven

Pearl crack
the dawning day
is all about
the tar marred
beach.
Favonian winds
gently caresses
a face beaten
by sun & surf.
Later,
the sunset on the ocean
& there wasn’t
any confusion.

Day eight

The citizens
of Santa Barbara
brought rags
for us to wipe
our oily
black hands on.
They were in small
woven baskets of tule reed
& filled with rags & apples.
I found a red one
& wore it around my neck,
to either
love
or eat
when
i
was
alone.

Day nine

Crickets
in
the vacant field
across from us
sing the loudest
late at night
when the oil slick
devours the seacoast
like
a
blanket
of
death
in its murkiness
of
thick oil
& caskets
of
beautiful
Cadillac’s.

Day ten

(Poem to the girl seen walking
below my window at 4:00a.m.)

I see you there
walking
on the freshly
cut grass
in bare feet.

Uncertain
about
your decision
to either
avoid
the
dark
shadows
or run
into
the kerosene night.

Day eleven

for Kiyono

All
night
i
touched
your
breast,
kissed
your
neck,
letting
the
long
black
hair
cover
me
thickly.
&
when
i
awoke,
alone,
with
only
a
love
stain
on
the
sheet
next
to
me,
i
fell
in
love
with
dreaming.

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