Chamblee54

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2010, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere . Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wish. This holiday wish does not represent the views of and is not endorsed by this website, webmaster or any affiliated subsidiaries thereof.
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This greeting is borrowed from joemyg-d , who received it from “Scott”. This is a repost .

PG received this story as an email today. He does not believe the story, nor does he agree with the message illustrated by this story. Hopefully, this post will reach the ten people requested by the sender. If the reader enjoys the story, and feels better after reading it, then PG is glad. If you don’t agree with this story, and feel worse after reading it, then PG offers his apology. This is a story with a message about Jesus at the end, so you probably know already how this story will resonate with you. It is all right to skip over the story, and enjoy the pictures.
The pictures are from The Library of Congress . These are Union soldiers, from the War Between The States. These pictures meant as much to families, as the picture in this story. They even mean as much as the picture of a Vietnamese soldier, who was killed by the son.
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas,There was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, ‘Sir, you don’t know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly… He often talked about you, and your love for art.’ The young man held out this package. ‘I know this isn’t much. I’m not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.’
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.. ‘Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It’s a gift.’
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. ‘We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?’There was silence…
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, ‘We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.’ But the auctioneer persisted. ‘Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?’ Another voice angrily. ‘We didn’t come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh’s, the Rembrandts. Get on with the Real bids!’ But still the auctioneer continued. ‘The son! The son! Who’ll take the son?’
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. ‘I’ll give $10 for the painting…’ Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.’We have $10, who will bid $20?’ ‘Give it to him for $10. Let’s see the masters.’The crowd was becoming angry. They didn’t want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel.. ‘Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!’ A man sitting on the second row shouted, ‘Now let’s get on with the collection!’
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. ‘I’m sorry, the auction is over.’ ‘What about the paintings?’ ‘I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will… I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!
God gave His son over 2,000 years ago to die on the Cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: ‘The Son, the Son, who’ll take the Son?’ Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything! FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE…THAT’S LOVE
Please send this to ten people and back to the one who sent it to you. God Bless. If I don’t get this back, I will know you really didn’t read it. I got this from someone and thought the last part was really a good thought.. Too bad that the person who sent it to me did not know 10 people who would admit to knowing the Lord.

This is a double repost of internet entertainment from two years ago . This year’s gabfest on climate change is in Durban, South Africa. ( Democracy Now is broadcasting there all week.)
The progress in addressing the issue of carbon pollution is slight. Approval of the oil sands pipeline has been delayed. Some people are aware of the issue. The bad news is that the deniers have a wide audience. Some say the tipping points are already falling over, and it may be too late to make the changes, even if there were the political will to do so.
PG sat in on a discussion last night. Someone asked, “who doesn’t want to make the world a better place?” PG sensed that people were tired of his cynicism, and held his tongue. The answer he would have given is, the people who make money off the world becoming a worse place.
Representatives from nations around the world are meeting this week in Copenhagen to discuss global warming. There is reason to believe that whatever comes out of this meeting will be a compromise, and will not have any effect on the problem.
Some do not think there is a problem. The science ( which PG does not claim to understand) involves millions of factors. One of the indications of the “climategate” controversy is the vast amount of data involved, and the difficulties of processing this information.
When you believe that there is no problem, and that global warming is a scam designed to weaken capitalist countries, you believe what you want to believe.
TomDispatch posted a feature today from the pessimist side. A money quote “The best human analog to the role physics is playing here may be fascism in the middle of the last century. There was no appeasing it, no making a normal political issue out of it. You had to decide to go all in, to transform the industrial base of the country to fight it, to put other things on hold, to demand sacrifice.”
Seventy years ago, Japan attacked the United States. It was a before and after moment, and America was committed, overnight, to the struggle against Japan and Germany. We did win, at an appalling cost. ( Included in this cost were hundreds of thousands of civilian casualties, and Communist domination of East Europe.)
Even if…a big if…we were to make this sort of commitment to fight global warming, there will be a cost. The energy happy lifestyle so cherished by the west may be a thing of the past. It is easier to make jokes on talk radio.

Dictionary says pro is the opposite of con.
Will Rogers said the opposite of progress is congress.
Is the opposite of a protest, a contest?
Is the opposite of a profession, a confession?
Is it profound that this would confound?
It is a profusion of confusion.

A band, Pearls Before Swine , put out an album called “These things too”. The title track told the story of a Persian king, who wanted a saying for all occasions. His advisers had a conference, invited experts, ate, drank, and thought. The phrase they came up with was “these things too shall pass away”.
Today, Persia is known as Iran. It is rich in oil, but has a troubled recent history. Instead of a king, they have a fashion challenged President, who says things that allegedly threaten Israel. (PG does not speak Farsi, and must depend on translators. There are differing opinions as to what the man said.)
You might ask, what does this have to do with a bunch of dogs, in Piedmont Park, on an overcast December afternoon? Perhaps it relates to the dog who, when asked to pose, thought you wanted to smell his butt. That is how dogs greet each other. Why should that man, pointing that little orange box at me, be any different?
A sunday in December means NFL football to millions of people. The Falcons were in Houston this day, and lost. This is another thing that is always true… somebody has to lose. The football angle could be what the wisemen meant. They just didn’t say what would happen to that pass. There are three things that can happen when you pass, and only one of them is good, at least for the offense.

This is a repost. The comments in the first paragraph are still true. These things too shall pass away.
PG was looking for something to write about, and saw lots of options. The Georgia Republican party is in moral free fall. The debate on climate change was resisting easy answers. PG decided to edit some pictures, when he saw a bumper sticker…”Those who forget Vietnam are condemned to repeat it”.
PG was in grammar school during the escalation of that undeclared war. As the mood of the nation turned against the war, PG moved on to high school. The “Peace with Honor” agreement was signed before he got a draft lottery number.
There was a lot of bitter debate about Vietnam. As the light at the end of the tunnel got dimmer and dimmer, it became obvious that there were no good choices. It is a lot easier to start a war than it is to end one.
Listening to the talk today, and comparing it to what he heard forty years ago, PG wonders if it was the same war. “The only reason we lost in Vietnam is because they wouldn’t let our troops win”. How many more of our men would have died, and how many more Vietnamese would have died, if “they” would have “let our troops win”? And what would victory have looked like? As it stands now, 58,000 American soldiers ( a substantial percentage of whom were drafted) died, as well as untold millions of Vietnamese men, women, and children.
The reason many today do not remember Vietnam was because they never knew it to begin with. Much of what was told in the press was lies. Much of what has been repeated is filtered through layers of rhetoric. And now, we find ourselves in two wars.
BHO was born in 1961. From 1967 to 1971, he lived in Indonesia. ( Which is closer to Vietnam than Hawaii). What he heard about the war is probably in one of his books. The point is, BHO has not forgotten Vietnam, because he probably did not know much. BHO is now sending 30,000 additional troops to Afghanistan.
George W. Bush made the initial commitments to Afghanistan and Iraq. He was in the Texas Air National Guard during Vietnam. In that war, men were drafted into service. You were told that either you went onto the service, or you went to jail. One alternative to active duty was the National Guard.
George W. Bush did not go to Vietnam, unlike Al Gore and John Kerry. Did he knew enough, about Vietnam to forget ?

PG read in the fishwrapper that Herman Cain was having a party. The event was the grand opening of his campaign headquarters. While there, he announced the suspension of his presidential campaign.
The story said that the headquarters was on Dekalb Technology Parkway. This was next to I85, about two miles from PG. He decided to go. You go through a stop sign, and see a dead end sign. Soon, you see cars parked on the road for the next half mile. The HQ was in a old sales building, with a few TV satellite hookup trucks parked in front. PG drove on, past a shuttered business that designed fountains, and parked in front of a building housing a ministry. This was on the other side of I85 from an office park, where PG once worked. ( The replacement in that office space when redo blue moved out was a Ralph Reed consulting firm.) (The fountain builders refused to set up an account with redo blue, and always paid cash for their work.)
As might be imagined, the people at this event were fun to look at. A man was in Revolutionary War costume. Many t shirts, buttons, and bumper stickers were on display, almost all critical of the current POTUS. The crowd was estimated to be 79% white, 19% black, and 2% other. It was not known if anyone in the crowd was an unauthorized foreign national.
When PG arrived, the announcement had been made. The former candidate was working the crowd, with three unsmiling men behind him. He seemed to be in good spirits, and was talking the entire time while shaking hands. He took a phone call …“yes pastor, I know you are praying for me, because you are a praying kind of guy.” The three men standing behind him wore shades, and kept their eyes on the crowd.
PG saw blogger/tv reporter Doug Richards . “It’s my fellow blogger. I write chamblee54, and I have left a couple of comments at your place””It’s good to know that someone has read it” “Why would I regret it?” ( Here is the Doug Richards view of the rally.)
Mr. Cain was once the front runner in the Republican race for POTUS. The dog stories started, and he had problems. A few days before the latest dog story… about a 13 year affair with Gloria White … Mr. Cain made an appearance at Holy Land Experience . He was quoted: “They don’t like the fact that I’m not afraid to say God Almighty Jesus Christ!” … “One of the biggest crises in this country is a moral crisis, We’ve lost our moral compass. We need to get it back. One of the reasons I’m running is because I plan to bring that moral compass back to this country.”

Dangerousminds , which is seldom at a loss for words, posted the video of Bob Dylan seen above. The young Mr. Zimmerman is in angry young man mode, and discusses the concept of an all picture Time magazine. All pictures, no words. This may be where this blog is headed.
Writers block is real. You have all of modern media at your beck and call, and yet you don’t have a message. TwentyTwoWords posts the story of a medical study into writers block. The study wastes no words in it a pithy treatment of this issue. It is an unspoken masterpiece, the treatment that dare not speak it’s name. The research was financed by a block grant.
The findings of this study were replicated in 2007. The report is included here, in it’s entirety. The editor noted ” I did not change one word, and this is a first in my tenure as editor.” There is no word on whether the report was submitted before the deadline.
Ben Hecht tells a story in his autobiography “Child of the Century”. As a young, underpaid newspaper writer in Chicago, Mr. Hecht was hired to participate in literary debates. In the era before movies and radio, these were considered after dinner entertainment. One night, Mr. Hecht got together with his opponent, and hatched a plan. The topic of the debate was ” People who attend literary debates are idiots.” The first speaker did not say a word, but gestured towards the crowd. The second speaker said, you win.
“Child of the Century” is now out of print. In 1994, PG thought he was going to have to move, and the first step was to throw away things. His copy of “Child of the Century” was one thing he pitched.
The idea that less is more has spread. Fun loving Jesus Worshiper Frank Turk had a post titled: “I got nothin” The text elaborated on this theme: “Not even a “best of”. He got 114 comments..
The sound that you hear is one hand clapping. Those reading with one hand can join in with the other one. Appreciation is always welcome. Vintage pictures are from ” The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library” . This is a repost.

When doing a rainbow post, the word on the right side of the text is important. This is a technical matter, having to do with making rainbow text, that is pretty to look at but tough to read. When reviewing these words on the right edge of the text, poetry often emerges. This text is a prose poem, made up of these right edge words.
It is said that telling what happens in the world, by reading a newspaper, is like telling the time by looking at the second hand. (This is before Fox news.) Today, we summarize a previous post by repeating the words on the right edge of the text. Pictures are from The Library of Congress
twitter and suspended monkey in the Obese
I license Peter Samuel me sleep
I would The black cat coon won dude
was his tickle penis penis literally
her piano make night what laid was thing
so that was not since padded own who others
or are hold mind Twitter is for no list
two lust some booty you most and you own
such many life Don’t 12 dozen what the decent bra
of an knife tend to my weekend announcement
be memories and you walk i’ll down sex
kill the toilet learn to become in the woman
Marc gently running at last may be when two

These visits to alternative reality are from a variety of sources. Included are Facebook (fb), twitter (tw), Futility Closet (fucl) , All Aphorisms, All The Time (Aph) , Texts From Last Night (tln) , and Overheard in New York (ony) . Attempts to maintain a no profanity blog will be suspended for this post. // My nephew, the only black kid at his kindergarten, was chosen to wear the monkey costume in the school play, coincidentally” (tw) // To be fair, each organ does have a role to play in the body’s functions. *cough* Appendix *cough*” (tw) // You missed out Lily RT @tejucole: Obese, stained, slobbery, alcoholic. Not insulting you, Liver, just reading your CV. (tw) // Lmao “@tejucole: I hired a 30-year-old man as my driver last week. Today a quick surreptitious peek at his license confirmed that he’s 44.” (tw) // These are supposed to be the last words of certain people … “Peter, take good care of my horse.” — Winfield Scott “Have you brought the checkbook, Alfred?” — Samuel Butler “Take away those pillows — I shall need them no more.” — Lewis Carroll “You heard me, Mike.” — John Barrymore “I haven’t drunk champagne for a long time.” — Chekhov “I can’t sleep.” — James M. Barrie “Moose. Indian.” — Thoreau “I’ve never felt better.” — Douglas Fairbanks “The nourishment is palatable.” — Millard Fillmore (fucl) // Tweeted this morning by Greg Boyd before I had a chance to post it: “If the only prayer you said in your whole life was ‘Thank you,” that would suffice.” ~ my favorite quote from Meister Eckhart (fb) // Oh, what he go and do that for? The random dude tries to stare down the CatCoon (tallest cat you’ve ever seen, white body, pointy black ears and a ringed tail..oh yeah cats and raccoons get down or at least they did once). The CatCoon won the stare down then the dude stomped his foot at the animal. It didn’t flinch and looked at the dude like he was checking his credit. The guy smartly walked away and not in the direction he was traveling….. smart move! That abomination is phucking scary!!! (fb) // “Each of us is entitled to his own opinion, but not to his own facts.” ~ Daniel Patrick Moynihan (1927-2003) (fb) // He needs to respect me before he can fuck me with cat ears on. (tln) /// The next time you try to involve a tickle me Elmo in my orgasm, I’m leaving you (tln) /// And I’m not sure if that’s how you pluralize penis. Never planned on needing to know that in my life. (tln) /// Good point, clearly my love of penis contributed to my torn knee ligament. (tln) /// Dude. Zebras have bad attitudes. (tln) /// Literally best acid trip ever. Better than sex. At one point she looked over at me, started crying, holds up her hands and said “dinosaur tears of sadness”. Craziest roommate ever. (tln) /// You can tune a piano, but you can’t tuna fish. (fb) // My mother made me a homosexual. If you buy the yarn, she’ll make you one too. (fb) // Take two. One will make you sick. (fb) // You know you had an interesting night when you wake up to five cats staring at you. (fb) // Re-examine all you have geen told. Dismiss what insults your soul. ~ Walt Whitman (fb) // Were making Christian mingle accounts. First one to get laid doesn’t pay bar tabs for a month. – Challenge accepted. See you in hell. (tln) /// But seriously he was like a god with his hands. My vagina feels annointed. (tln) /// “You don’t have to chose, the only thing you have to chose is to be a complicated, modern human being” – @tejucole (tw) // How can I be so good at multi-chatting, but so bad at multi-tasking #BBMdiaries (tw) // #confusingthingsgirlsdo get a train ran on them, then months later they say “im not like THAT” anymore. What exactly is ‘THAT’ (tw) // #ConfusingThingsGirlsDo Go outta town wit a nigga… but pretend they aint kno the nigga was gonna want some ass!! (tw) // #ConfusingThingsGirlsDo Go to the STRIP CLUB.. and expect me not to atleast BELIEVE you MAY be Bisexual!! (tw) // My level of criminality has definitely dropped since my music career took off. (tw) // Wisdom is not finally tested in the schools, Wisdom cannot be passed from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof. ~ Walt Whitman (fb) // Forgiving people is the way to inner peace. When we forgive people who wrong us or others, it releases the anguish, and the animosity. We have to realise that whatever others do to us is not about us, it’s about them. They are either fearful or unsure of what they want or are seeking attention or love. When we can learn to forgive, we can truly free ourselves and not hold resentment. When we hold resentment for someone, we are connected to them in thought and mind. ~ Annette Katona (fb) // If you want to be forgiven, forgive others. // MT @tejucole: Twitter is unbeatable for aphorism, great for anecdote, decent for poetry, useless for analysis & eye of a newt for surrealism (tw) // @tejucole: A man in traffic selling a single wristwatch. I can’t decide if he’s a thief or simply a committed minimalist.” (tw) // A bunch of people just started following me on twitter. No need to buckle up newbies – it’s a smooth ride. (tw) // Why not just give the people on your list pepper spray so they can shop for their own Christmas gifts. (tw) // Well, that lasted for all of two minutes. Thanks for just about nothing (tw) // I’m okay with corrupting his young mind. Ew! He’s just a child! AND I’M GONNA SHOW HIM HOW TO MAKE ONE. (tln) /// I’m really hoping to find some quality strange ass tonight while at my court appearance. (tln) /// I got my project done and a booty call in all before 1am. I’m a professional college kid. (tln) /// Remind me to switch to jello when you decide to do shots off my ass. It’s so much easier to clean than this pudding. (tln) /// The most beautiful gift that you can ever give to life is your heart; your heart is your truth, your strength and your love. There is only one you and you must make the very best out of life for yourself always. You are strong never weak, you do not need crutches to help you walk the paths of life, you have your own two feet and you can stand tall and proud and walk on them moving forward in life. There is no such action as failure; it is nonsense to think negative and do not ever feel sorry for you. You have many gifts to give to life and you can find your gifts when you open up your eyes and see the beauty of life with your heart. ~ Lee Held (fb) // IF YOU HAVE A FUCKING PROBLEM FACE IT, DON’T FACEBOOK IT !!!! (fb) // I wouldn’t say I’m attached to my vibrator, but I’m gonna buy it 12 dozen roses for Christmas :-) (fb) // Start doing the things you think should be done, and start being what you think society should become. Do you believe in free speech? Then speak freely. Do you love the truth? Then tell it. Do you believe in an open society? Then act in the open. Do you believe in a decent and humane society? Then behave decently and humanely. (fb) // A guy asks “Why do wear a bra, you don’t have anything to put in it?” Girl answers “You wear pants don’t you?” (fb) // The myth of individuality keeps the herd together. (Aph) // Poverty is not a sin. It cannot be forgiven. (Aph) // An army’s best friend is its enemy. (Aph) // They pat you on the back, preferably with a knife. (Aph) // Why do women write so few aphorisms? he asked me. Why do men write so many? (Aph) // I tend to choose narcissists as my friends; that way I don’t worry that they’re talking about me behind my back. (Aph) // I am trying to think of a way to tell him about thanksgiving and the following weekend in a way that makes me sound funny and exciting and not like an alcoholic (tln) /// Announcement: Given the sad circumstances regarding the death of my dearest friend Chong the Bong, there will be a brief memorial service for him tomorrow evening at 10:30 at my place. After sharing some memories and sending his spirit off to the great bowl in the sky, we will all take place in the commemoration and maiden voyage of his son, Chong Squared, who eagerly waits to meet all of you. High blessings to you all, piece be with you. (tln) /// He left his shoes, boxers and socks at my house & managed to walk home to his dorm without realizing anything was missing until 3 days after. That’s the last time i’ll ever hook up with a freshman. (tln) /// I won’t be able to make it. Too hung over. Can’t hold down fluids. I’m in the bathtub trying to hydrate my body through osmosis. And yes, Tequila Tuesday is totally still on for tonight. (tln) /// He told her hed rather go bobbing for apples in puke than have sex with her. (tln) /// Ah, reminds me of the famous saying “Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.” – Winston Churchill // Now remember: Life is like a roll of toilet paper… the closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes…so have fun, think good thoughts only, learn to laugh at yourself, and count your blessings!!! (fb) // “You must first be broken before you can become whole” ~ Lao Tzu (fb) // Hurt me with the truth but, never comfort with a lie … the comma is in the wrong place (fb) // Worrying is praying for that which you do not want. (fb) // Lexington Ave woman on cell: “And not ONCE did she say ‘Oh, I’m so sorry for fucking HURLING into your brand new Marc Jacobs.’ Not! Fucking! Once!” (fb) // If the lion can lay down with the lamb surely love can gently overcome even the fiercest of opponents. Look around as the tyrants fall while the greedy are running scared. But we must remember that the spirit of the lion and the lamb must become one at last, integrating the energies of each other into our collective spiritual consciousness so that we may be both fearless and humble in nature. (fb) // It’s a beautiful cosmic and spiritual symmetry when two people can see the beauty and the truth of a thing with the same eyes. (fb) // Selah

In 1993, PG got a futon at a yard sale. It seemed like a good idea. He paid $15 for the mat and frame.
In the nineties, PG had a 450 square foot apartment. It was the second floor of a 1948 era cape cod house, with a parade of neighbors downstairs. PG had back issues, and slept on a foam rubber pad. The futon did not agree with his back. After several attempts at usage, the futon was stored on top of the queen size mattress in the bedroom. The prop up frame went into the carport.
This arrangement worked well until PG had to move. The landlord had three teenage daughters, and decided to sell the rental property to a developer. A mcmansion is on the site today. The house that PG grew up in was a five minute walk away, and was the logical place to go.
Futons are trouble to move. They are heavy. They are not stable. It is like carrying a fifty pound sack of potatoes, that is forty eight inches long. The only effective way to move it is to wrap both arms around it, and drag it to the next location. Think of slow dancing with a linebacker on quaaludes.
In the new house, there was no place for the futon. Another attempt was made at sleeping on it, and the spine cried out in protest. The futon was rolled up, and held in place with bungee cords. It was stood up, and strapped onto the end of a shelf.
A few days ago, PG decided he needed a big chair for reading and television. He grabbed a few cushions … another leftover from the old apartment… put them on some milk cartons, and called it a chair. A few items of furniture needed to be moved around.
After the requisite cleaning of all the rearranged furniture…where does all that dust come from … the futon stood out like a forty eight inch sore thumb. There was still room at the end of the utility shelf. There was also a spot at the curb. PG made a sign, free futon, and slow danced the futon to the street. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.

1992 was a year for PG. His father died in February. In July, PG went to Europe. It was a bad, bad year for friends with aids. Several were recruited by the grim reaper.
By the time December 1 came around, PG was ready for another year. In those days, PG was working in an architect office downtown, and had lots of free time. There was a rally for World Aids Day at the state capitol, and PG saw a chance for free entertainment. A podium was set up in the rotunda, and a series of speakers declaimed. One man said to use a condom every time you FUCK. He seemed to enjoy screaming the F word in the state capitol.
A man named Doug Teper spoke. He was the only state legislator to speak, and he criticized the organizers for not inviting him. Later, PG … who lived in Mr. Teper’s district … asked him for a business card. Mr. Teper forgot to bring his business cards. ( PG was standing next to Mr. Teper when a speaker demanded health care for everyone. PG leaned over and said, how are we going to pay for this? Mr. Teper shrugged.)
PG saw a person named Gene at the rally, and went to talk to him. Years earlier, when Betty Ford was the first lady, PG was joking with a friend. PG said something about how black people all look alike. Gene, who was African American, heard this joke.
A couple of years after the rally, PG saw an obituary for Gene.