California Stars

So it's Christmas and I'm thinking about all the friends heading back to their hometowns and homelands from this City of Angels, this city of transients many, and it makes me think of how we don't think, of you, California. I spend so much time longingly thinking of my past, the roots I can't (and shouldn't) shake. Of my native lands of Australia, New Zealand and Papua New Guinea.

I spend so much time too thinking of my future. Of the lands I've yet to discover. Of the New Orelanses, the Mexicos, Moroccos and Argentinas just ahead... and I overlook you, my present. The ever gracious host, the wonderful inspiration, unassuming easiness and generous giver of friendship and opportunity that is California. So here is my love song to you.

Thank you, California. I love you.

The Carolina Chocolate Drops

Forty-five seconds in to the Carolina Chocolate Drops’ set at the Henry Fonda Music Box in Los Angeles last night, the tears came. Lord knows I cannot find tears in all sorts of situations where they would not only be deemed appropriate but in fact expected, but the right combination of notes on the right night with the right measure of sincerity and I’m a leaky boat. Probably not what the Drops are going for, I know – Rolling Stone Magazine describes their style as, “Dirt-floor-dance-electricity.”

I cried though because I thought of my mother and in turn, their mothers. I’m an Australian of a Papua New Guinean mother and Maori (native to New Zealand) father and was raised in all three countries. Though educated in a predominantly white, Catholic girls’ school in Australia, my parents made a point to teach us the songs, the dances and the stories of our people, to keep our rich, cultural heritage alive and to keep strong our connection to our ancestors while forging ahead into a modern world.

The Carolina Chocolate Drops are three young, black musicians who, as a band, hail from North Carolina. Dom Flemons, Rhiannon Giddens, and Justin Robinson are multi-instrumentalists and vocalists, primarily a string band that bring out the bones, jug and kazoo. Rhiannon studied opera, plays banjo and fiddle and has that same, soft-eyed pretty of Natalie Merchant. Dom plays banjo and guitar and Justin was trained in classical violin from eight years of age. They are a young, modern voice of their own but also represent the tradition of black, string -band music. As Justin Robinson said, “Tradition is a guide, not a jailer. We play in an older tradition but we are modern musicians.” Amen.

The tears did eventually clear for me and I whooped, hollered and stomped with the rest of them. It might have been the shortest set on earth – they were there supporting Josh Ritter after all – but you can rest assured that the audience squeezed the most they possibly could out of the energy pouring off stage.

I couldn’t quite see, but am sure I heard that the seated (for the most part) trio, were stomping on miked stomp boards, keeping that get-down beat going. I’d never seen anyone play bones in real life before - two wooden sticks, emulating the bones they used to be made from - clacked together in the hand. They too reminded me of my mother, who would play the spoons in her extended-family sing-songs. But Dom played the bones, clacking them all over the place with a jig and a smile.

The Carolina Chocolate Drops closed out with a cover of Blu Cantrell’s “Hit ‘Em Up Style” which was equal parts brilliant and humorous. Rhiannon - whose beautiful and powerful voice is usually used in a very understated fashion – was given the opportunity to belt it out. I don’t believe any one of us were remotely ready for them to leave the stage when they did.

From the first time I happened upon a Youtube video of three, young, black folk, singing the lyrics, “Corn bread and butter beans and you across the table, eatin’ them beans and makin’ love as long as I am able” I was in love. No question. I scoured their tour dates frequently, hoping they’d add dates in Los Angeles, to no avail for a long time.

In Austin this year for South by South West, I learned that the Carolina Chocolate Drops would be playing a set at the beautiful Driskill Hotel – a favorite cocktail stop for me on the SXSW circuit. It was not to be as the band I was to sing in, picked up a gig last-minute at the very same time, at Big Red Sun. I lamented that for months.

I’m from a part of the world as far away as you can get from a jug band. About as far away as the Drops grew up from a corroboree. So anything I know about the music they make and its history, I learned from records and books. I’ve read Robert Palmers’, “Deep Blues” which does not make me an expert, but it is where I learned much more about the Banjo, its journey from Africa, the romance that started between it and the Irish fiddle and the beautiful new music they made together which was the birth of sounds distinctly American, that went on to be revered across the world.

I also read that these three young musicians traveled every Thursday night to sit with 80-something-year-old fiddler, Joe Thompson in his home in Mebane, North Carolina. I read that it was during the summer and fall of 2005 that old Joe Thompson passed on the knowledge to the Drops, that he had inherited from generations of family - who honed their skills at night after back-breaking field-work all day.

And all this is why I cried. My mother would have been proud of these young folk, keeping their heritage alive making new from old in the very best of ways. I’ve eaten catfish in a juke joint in Mississippi and danced the night away. I’ve sat on the back porch of a shack on Hopson Plantation, in Clarksdale and felt the spirit of those passed in the gentle creak-slam of the screen door. I’ve heard the wind in the cotton fields sing a sad, sad song. And it was when the Chocolate Drops launched into their third song, a haunting, instrumental beauty, with a lonely violin called, “Snowdon’s Jig” I knew my mama would say, “They are calling the spirits of their ancestors. You can feel them.”

Still Bill Still Dad

It was a poignant accident that we, a group of fifteen people, whose lives constantly find reason even beyond our control to flow into each other, came to be watching, “Still Bill” the new documentary film about American singer-songwriter and musician, Bill Withers on Father’s Day. I’m Australian and we specially honor our fathers on a different day of the year. Thus, when I originally sent out an invite to all the friends for a private screening outside in our garden, I could not know how particularly touching it would be for many of us, missing our fathers to intimately observe Bill Withers, the father.

Under a Jacaranda tree in the back yard of our little bungalow in Venice Beach, we lay about on rugs, on a sea of cushions, friends, lovers, husbands, wives, band members, children, parents and puppies and watched this very unassuming documentary about a very humble man unfold. This man from the small, coal mining town of Slab Fork, West Virginia, the youngest of six children who grew up sickly with asthma and shrinking with stuttering, turned out to be the man who wrote, among many other things, “Ain’t No Sunshine”.

Bill Withers won multiple Grammy Awards and earned many gold records and, during what could be still considered his “prime”, walked away from it all. He married a business MBA, had two children, continued a life of family and normalcy, never once taking up any of the many offers for lucrative, nostalgia tours around the country, like so many of his contemporaries and never releasing another record.

While he continued to write music (of course you do when you have the music in you, whether anyone is paying you or not), Bill Withers just didn’t care to re-enter the music business and write music to be packaged and marketed. He had earned enough money previously, to comfortably raise a family without worry. And that’s exactly what he did. At 70 years old, he is an old man, comfortable in his own skin, alright with it all, in possession of great, gentle wisdom and a fine sense of humor. He has cultivated what appears to be a solid marriage and has raised great children. The love and respect between them all is palpable. It is particularly moving to see Bill with his daughter – who has decided to follow in his musical footsteps - and hear them make music together.

Some people say I have a nice voice. It’s a voice that I only ever started using in public at 31 years of age and it’s a voice I know I got from my father. I’d never wanted to be a singer. It was my musician husband who coaxed me out, note by note into the spotlight, slowly but surely over several years. Bill and his daughter, Kori’s magical music-making together made me want to take my new voice - which I only discovered in America – back home to my father in Australia and beg him to sing with me. He’s about Bill’s age and, like me, has never wanted to be a singer. But we do it. It just turned out that way.

I am very lucky to be married to a maker of music and to be surrounded by friends who also have the music in them. I am very lucky that my husband pushed me not to be afraid to use my instrument in public. I am very lucky because music making is alchemy and by actively engaging in it, you get to delve deeper into the magic.

Music saved that stuttering young man in a coal mining town like it has saved kindred souls everywhere.

Please buy a copy of “Still Bill” and help these fine film makers get this marvelous story out there. Host a screening like we did. Those Trader Joe’s pizzas and beers were good! Or at the very least, tell friends about it. “Still Bill” is an inspiration and an education.

Ensenada

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We love Mexico and we always will. So it was no question when our good, Aussie friends (now based between Ensenada and San Diego), invited us to an intimate, birthday, dinner party at their local, favorite restaurant in Ensenada, “Ophelia” that we would oblige. I put in for a Monday off, packed the car up Saturday morning and hit the road to make the four hour journey south from Venice Beach.

The gorgeous little restaurant is owned by Chef and proprietor, Rosindo Ramos and his wife, Rosa. An Ensenada native, Rosindo moved to Mexico City, where he had a couple of restaurants over the years. Coming back to his hometown, Rosindo brought his staff with him from Mexico City to start his first enterprise by the beach. Not only a superb Chef, who has designed an interesting and modern, Mexican, Italian, Asian, fusion menu, Rosindo also designed and remodeled the beautiful, open building, filled with unique flourishes - such as a wall built with tomato stakes from a friend’s ranch.

In a separate building from the bustling, main restaurant - that seems to service Ensenada, Rosarito’s and Tijuana’s upwardly mobile - is a private dining room called, “Clandestino”. This is where we were lucky enough to celebrate our darling friend Gretchen’s birthday, all to ourselves. With a fireplace, a bar and lounge, our private room turned into a feast of never-ending plates of all of Rosindo’s specialties, which would appear and disappear as if by magic, as we danced and danced to the tunes of Julieta Venegas and the like. There seemed to be a never-ending cast of local gentlemen (Rosindo's friends) to take us for a spin around the dance floor too.

The ever-flowing, sparkling Sauvignon Blanc and a mix of delightful reds - all of which hailed locally from Baja - kept us going until three in the morning. If I hadn’t consumed so much of the stuff, I might be able to actually tell you what they were. They were good though, I know that. Very good.

One half of our lovely, Aussie pair, Gretchen’s husband Ross, runs a Blue-fin Tuna farm operation. Their offices are in San Diego, but their boats and farms are off the coast of Ensenada (you can see the large circles in the water off the coast as you’re on the outskirts of the north, descending into town).

Gretchen and Ross divide their time between the two and their delightful, year-young baby girl gets to live a life between a downtown San Diego, Little Italy abode and an absolute, ocean front, Ensenada, beach pad with 180-degree views of the Pacific and all the tuna she can eat!

Ross met Ophelia’s owner, Rosindo in the surf and the two have become the best of friends ever since. Thanks to this friendship, I will also get to crash some of Rosindo’s cooking classes at the cooking school attached to Ophelia. I also was able to save hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of dollars from his local knowledge, with a recommendation to a good dentist in Ensenada.

I’d been to a good dentist in Tijuana before, but wanted to avoid TJ if I could. While not being a Spanish-speaker and Dr. Simon Bernal not being an English speaker, we seemed to work out my needs via a series of charades, drawings and a tiny video camera in my mouth! I am now wearing the most seamless filling I’ve ever seen and the most painless, given by a doctor with the most kind and gentle bedside manner this scaredy-cat has ever experienced.

If you find yourself in Ensenada, I highly recommend a meal at the delightful, Ophelia. And I recommend the Spinach Gnocchi (of very unusual size), the Crab Ravioli and the Tuna & Mushroom Tostada’s. Bon appetit!

I Wish

For nearly fifteen years, I have made the same wish. Every time I have extinguished my birthday candles, seen a shooting star, blown on a dandelion or encountered a new, supposed, wish-granting superstition, I have made the exact same wish and wished it hard. The wish? Well, it has always been yours of course. I have spent all my wishes on you, for nearly fifteen years.

Tonight, at thirty-four years old, it finally occurred to me that perhaps, I should make just one wish for me. Then however, I realized the risk. Like playing the same numbers in the lotto every week for years and years until finally, you give up on them and make up some anew and then there they are. That night, your old numbers come up. Just like that, in an instant, a realization that years of diligence and devotion were in fact for nought.

Now, I don’t know what to do. I want so badly for your wish to come true. But my wishes which have always waited patiently behind yours, don’t want to wait anymore and I am losing the power I’ve always had over them to control them. Very soon, I will need to make a wish too.

I didn’t know that love would take hold of me quite this way when I was a nineteen year old girl, standing on the street, smoking a cigarette, waiting for a date that would never happen but that would in fact lead me to you. I couldn’t know then, when I was a cocksure, sanguine, independent and intrepid young woman that in the face of true love, all are rendered helpless and vulnerable. Even though I thought I knew it all, I certainly did not know that when you love someone, their life is of infinitely greater value to you than your very own.

It’s likely a shrink could find a hundred different ways that I am loving incorrectly or unhealthily. Annually-recycled, Cosmopolitan articles would convincingly preach to me about making enough emotional space for yourself and taking care of your own needs too etc.. Oprah would say it also. And they’re all probably right, to a degree. But I don’t want to love any other way, other than with all that I’ve got. With everything I’ve got.

So here I am, spending all my wishes on you.

A Rose-colored Beginning

From NYE 2009 The Rosebowl Parade Pasadena

I love dogs. I love all creatures in fact. Even the cockroaches and the bird-eating spiders. I’m mad for each and every one! I was once the human of a ferret or three, back when they were extremely uncommon (in Australia). And it was as the human of a few, much-loved, much-spoiled ferrets that I got a peek into an underground world of total, animal-obsessed eccentrics.

These ferret people though were different people to the, “Best in Show” types. These weren’t, “Stage Mum” characters. These people were the underground members of a movement, designed to positively spin the much maligned, negative reputation of the quite-affectionate-in-fact, ferret. By walking my ferret on a lead down the street it appears, I was pledging my solidarity.

Random cars would pull up at the crosswalk while a human would excitedly wave a confused and unsuspecting ferret at me through a windscreen. Nodding and smiling knowingly at me, they would acknowledge me as a (unwitting) member of the ferret fraternity.

But nothing could have prepared me for the world that my husband and I entered this New Year’s Eve. This was the world of snowboarding, English Bulldogs and their owners. As delightful as it was bizarre, I was the perfect candidate to escort my nephew, Lyle (the skateboarding, snowboarding, soccer-playing Bulldog) and his Mum, Lexi Beermann for his first, professional, snowboarding appointment.

You can view the album of our whole experience here:

NYE 2009 The Rosebowl Parade Pasadena

If you’re American, you may have heard of a little thing called, “The Rose Bowl Game” and its accompanying parade, the “Pasadena Tournament of Roses”. A New Year’s Day tradition for over a century, the Californian parade attracts some one million people. The game of collegiate, American football is viewed live by attendees of the 93,000-capacity, Rose Bowl Stadium. This year, Ohio would play Oregon in the Bowl. Both parade and game are televised live nationally on New Year’s Day, watched by millions and this year by billions - being telecast for the first time also in China.

So the Rose Bowl Parade is a big deal. This then is why when Cousin Lyle (as our baby puppy Banjo calls him) was recruited by pet food corporation, Natural Balance to appear on their Rose Bowl Parade float (the Guinness Book of Record’s largest float in the world - at 114 feet), and invited us along to support him, we were there with bells on.

This enormous float - a recreation of an Austrian alps ski-scene - was replete with snow covered mountain (the snow fashioned out of coconut shavings), mechanical trams that acted as ski-lifts to take the Bulldogs back up the mountain to perform yet another snowboard run, a soundtrack of irritating but popular Baha Men track, “Who Let the Dog’s Out” (remixed to include some yodeling) and a giant English Bulldog mascot that tilted its head and grooved from side to side. It was an incredible sight to behold, designed by famed, eccentric, very “La Cage aux Folles” float designer Raul Rodriguez (who rarely appears in public without his dancing parrot, Sebastian). While it did not win any official awards (how could it with conservative, Pasadena judges) there was absolutely no question which float won “best loved”.

From Click Image to View Album

Maybe you’ve had the opportunity to escort celebrity-folk some place or are in fact one yourself, so could have expected the tumult and the benefits that come with a life of stardom. But our little pup Banjo could not have and I must say he was kind of impressed. Being one of his famous Cousin Lyle’s entourage, he experienced a glimpse of the good life.

For starters, Banjo and his parents (us) were given an all-expenses-paid, 3 day holiday at the Sheraton in Pasadena, VIP seating for the parade and cushy rides to and from the parade and post parade. Upon arrival, Banjo found a fluffy, big puppy bed, a gift basket filled with treats of lamb, turkey, chicken, biscuits, rolls and sausages, his very own “toiletries” kit and a free-run of the hotel.

Arriving at the hotel on New Year’s Eve afternoon, we discovered the foyer alive and bustling with football fans, parade goers, parade staff/ volunteers and float riders. I don’t know who was left running Ohio for the sea of red across the city of Pasadena. Their football team it appears has extremely devoted fans. We met some good, good people at this hotel. And some cute, cute dogs.

New Year’s Eve we would be part of the Natural Balance dinner. Commencing at 6pm it was a soiree that would wrap early as the Natural Balance puppies, their owners, the float riders, employees, invitees and volunteers, would have five and six am wake up calls ahead of them on New Year’s Day. So an early soiree we were prepared for, but what type of soiree we couldn’t quite imagine before hand.

As it turns out, it was – from a superficial perspective – a cross between a party scene from “The Office” and a cruise ship feeling. The buffet was good, the wine was fair, the Bulldogs came (guests of honor of course) and a DJ duo danced with kids and grandparents on the dance floor. There was a magician - from the Magic Castle no less; somewhere I’ve always wanted to go since living in LA.

The magician could have been cheesy, but he wasn’t. He was straight up outstanding. Howard Jay (that was his name) was also in possession of some sharp and smart wit. None of any of this was cheesy in fact. And it wasn’t, because it was honest. It was sweet and it was inclusive. By the time Joey Herrick, President and owner of the very obviously “family” styled company, Natural Balance had finished his year-end-thank-you-very-much speech; I was all warm inside, wishing that I could go work in marketing or something for these people.

An affable and unassuming fellow, Joey had wandered up to me earlier, realizing that he did not know me (which I can only assume means he knows the face of every vendor and supplier and employee and their aunts and uncles and kids etc) to introduce himself and ask if I was having fun. And it wasn’t, “Hi, I’m Joey Herrick, owner of Natural Balance.” I knew who he was anyway but it was classy of him not to say. And for God sakes, these people love animals! What more could I want?!

We met many charming characters throughout the course of this experience but one of the most memorable was Marty, the Vet. Slight in frame but strong in character, this chain-smoking, soft-hearted, interesting fellow, a qualified vet we learned, was Natural Balance’s official liaison for all the zoos.

Perhaps our biggest bonding moment was when my husband discovered he had a kangaroo named Ruby. Ruby had been born on a kangaroo farm in Colorado (yes, American Kangaroos - can you believe it?) where she had fallen out of her Mother’s pouch. Marti was appointed to care for her. So attached he’s become he said, he is going to find it impossible to give her back. In spite of the fact that she literally needs to be by his side every waking moment, and that he has removed all toilet paper (which she finds terribly fun to play with and tasty to eat) from his bathrooms, rushing around to put them back when guests come over, he doesn’t want to let her go. She sleeps in her own King bed in the spare bedroom.

Throughout the course of our stay we learned what apartment-living with Banjo would be like, having to make many toilet trips to the strip of grass out front of the hotel. It was also the perfect opportunity for a cigarette. Others thought so too and it was in fact this way that we met some lovely people from all over the country, there to either volunteer, work or experience the parade.

On my way back from one such visit, I over-heard an older man, sitting on a bench outside, talking to a younger man as he had a cigarette. Immediately, I recognized the deep, rolling, musical accent of New Orleans. Back in the hotel room, Banjo happily relieved, I said to my husband, “I swear this man downstairs had that amazing New Orleans accent, like that retired cop we befriended down there last year.” We met the same gentleman and his wife over a cigarette downstairs the next day and it turned out, that I was in fact correct.

The elderly couple lived in Lafayette, Louisiana in a place they’d had for many, many years. Their neighborhood they said, was not a nice one. But it had a porch and a spot to grow veggies and flowerbeds out back. A lot of their friends had moved out of the area over the years, but he said, “I am a Vietnam Vet. I am trained in combat. And damn it!” he said, stamping his foot and whistling lowly, “I am Cajun! We don’t back down! I’m not moving out for criminals.”

The wife was wearing a badge with a photograph of a young man. She said they were here for the first time, volunteering on the, “Donate Life” float and the young man on the badge was her nephew, who would be riding the float, holding a framed portrait of the person who donated the organ that saved his life. The Donate Life float, commemorating donors of everything from organs to tissue to blood, was also designed to encourage and promote the importance of donation. It was also the float that moved me to tears so early that new year’s day.

I found myself asleep at 11:30pm on new year’s eve and it fleetingly crossed my mind when I woke the next day that I truly am finally getting a wee bit old. Fortunately for me, the wisdom that supposedly comes with age was in tact and my early night paid off when the alarm sounded at 5am on new year’s day, and I was able to actually rise without too unreasonable a temperament. We made the awful, Starbuck’s, in-room filter coffee (I do like those little one-cup contraptions that boil so curiously quickly though) and took a completely confused, half asleep, bed-haired Banjo down to the little grass strip for a pee.

The lobby was already a hive of activity, familiar faces from the previous evening’s Natural Balance dinner milling about. Outside, large coaches were filling up with parade-goers. All the Natural Balance float riders, Cousin Lyle and the other Bulldogs had already been chauffeured to the parade an hour earlier. Their entourage (us et al) were due to leave soon, being picked up by our limousine driver services.

I had barely slept the night prior, waking hourly with a sudden gasp, muttering, “I’m late! I’ve missed it!” Early rises do not suit me anyway and being in a limousine before sunrise, on my way to see Bulldogs snowboard down a fake mountain on wheels, was more than surreal.

I was excited though. To me, this Pasadena parade felt like it would be a very all-American experience, one that I should really have. An experience that I, as a resident of Venice Beach, a person who usually likes to stay up late enough to share a kiss with her husband at the stroke of midnight, who likely would be nursing some degree of a hangover on new year’s day (and thus, would not be willing or able to tackle the traffic or crowds - many of whom camp out over night for best position) would probably never have. I couldn’t have imagined that, thanks to the friendship of one lovely lady and her adorable Bulldog, I would in fact have one of the most unique experiences of the Rose Parade ever.

When we alighted our limousines at the parade route, the sky had just started seeing its first hues of light. The air was fresh, the sky crisp, clear and the most delicious shade of pink. We meandered close up to the extraordinary, stationary floats, their riders busy fussing with costumes and finishing touches. All the floats are floral, made of millions and millions of flowers and the like and it seemed so fitting to wander through these flower fields on wheels in the first morning light. Some parade-goers in pajama pants and beanies were just rising from their roadside sleeping bags. Some were already busy attending to breakfast sausages on the grills of their make-shift kitchens.

From NYE 2009 The Rosebowl Parade Pasadena

Natural Balance had a couple of RVs stationed near the beginning of the parade route that would act as the green rooms or VIP tents. We got to duck in to one and kiss Cousin Lyle and wish all of the five Bulldogs, Tillman (the famous “face of”), Rose (the only girl), Lyle, Tank & Neko, “Good luck!” I also got to squeeze the darling little baby - a new addition to the family of Bulldog athletes, Sully who was simply roly-poly heaven, unaware of the magnitude of the big day ahead for her brothers and sister.

The parade was phenomenal. America really has a corner on the marching band market. There are so many of them and they’re just all so God damn good! I remember in the lead up to the Sydney Olympics in the Summer of 2000, it was announced that we would be importing marching bands from the USA for the opening parade. Locals were up in arms, persistent that we had all the talent we needed right there at home.

I recall watching Australia’s version of “Good Morning America” while getting ready for work one day. There was an half asleep, ill-uniformed Aussie marching band, shuffling awkwardly behind the anchor woman, trying to wriggle on tilting hats, who had been brought down I suppose to show us all what Australia’s got. I don’t know where they found this marching band. I think we might have only five of them in the country. But let’s just say… we really needed the Americans!

Despite the incredible caliber of all these different, American marching bands however, the Pedro Molina Guatemalan Marching Band were my favorite. They got people out of their seats and they were fun.

Eventually, along came the Natural Balance float and it really was something spectacular to see. The Bulldogs were performing on target, riding down the mountain smoothly and being transported back up in their little trams, in a continuous cycle as the parade made its way through the streets, little puffs of smoke emanating from the fake chimney of the mountain-top cabin.

I have to admit however, that our attention waned somewhat a couple of hours in and we found ourselves making our way back to the hotel on foot. The parade was long. We had the streets of Pasadena to ourselves. It was a ghost town, with a million people all concentrated on the one street, the din of their distant cheering providing the soundtrack to our exploration of the deserted streets.

After the parade was the “Post Parade” which would be held each day for the following two days. At the Post Parade, a handful of the best floats would be parked where they would be able to be viewed at close range in a mini, fair-like environment. It was here that the Natural Balance float really shone.

With the float and the Tillman tour bus parked on the lot (wrapped in an image of Tillman skateboarding), crowd control barricades and a VIP tent, Natural Balance had really set up their home base. Hundreds of people gathered to watch the demos of the dogs snowboarding which would commence on the hour every hour, throughout the day and would last for 15 minutes .

At the end of each set, the Bulldogs would wander freely around the interior perimeter of the barricades and lap up the love being offered by friendly hands shoved through the bars. Children would squeal to take photos with the dogs and media swarmed. Lyle loved it. All of it.

I don’t know why it is that Bulldogs are naturally inclined to skating, but they are. No joke. This breed of dog, low to the ground, not made for a hell of a lot of walking, seems to naturally and instantly identify, when he sees a skate deck, that this thing will be able to get his heavy frame around more easily than his own little legs. Lyle, a typically quiet, lumbering Bulldog becomes as animated as any Labrador with a Frisbee whenever he sees or hears a skateboard.

Lyle’s evolution to a snowboard was a piece of cake - especially with the patient guidance of his lovely trainer and Dad of Tillman, Rose & Sully, Ron Davis. He really is quite exceptional at it. And he did not mind showing himself off to adoring fans after each demo.

The cheering was like sunshine on Lyle's back and, chin held high in the air, he’d work the barricades for the accolades. He just knew. He’s born to it. In LA it seems, anyone can make it. Even a punk rock dog from Dogtown who repeats deeply in his little heart of hearts, “Skate or die. Skate or die, man.”



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Click on the links below to watch Lyle and friends and his lovely Hollywood Pet Mom, Lexi, featured in the following episodes of this great documentary about the Natural Balance float:

Episode 1.
Episode 2.
Episode 3.
Episode 4. (Last)

Be sure to click on the links below and check out the following sites:

GoLyle.com
HollywoodPetMom.com
Neckisses.com

Photoblog: Venice Christmas 2009

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This was my husband and I our 5th Christmas away from home. I've been hurting for my family a lot lately, expecting this Christmas to be my very loneliest yet. My parents are getting noticeably older, my nieces and grandniece and grand nephew are growing at a pace I can’t keep up with and family pets are departing this earth at an alarming rate. Life is moving so fast and I wanted, more than anything, to slow it down for a minute, distort space and time and spend the day with all my family on the other side of the globe.

Alas, it was not to be. Too little time off work and too much money on airfares dictated my husband and I would be each other’s only company with our baby rescue pup, Banjo. It would be his very first Christmas with any family at all. Alone it would be the three of us I thought. It appears however that we are not the only ones too far from home or unable to afford airfares…

Our Christmas was saved by the love of good friends and sharing with strangers. Even our friends’ puppy, Frankie who had to spend Christmas without her family, got to enjoy an orphans’ Christmas with us. Thank God for this little village we call Venice, and thank God for friends. If you open your door, you really never need be alone.

Australia Day Shenanigans in Hollywood

You know how some nights, the stars are aligned and there’s this... energy in the air? It's palpable. You know when everyone is just in sync, up for anything, all wanting to have a really good time all at exactly the same time? Last night was like that. Everyone wanted to party hardy and everyone did.

I was drunker than I’ve been since I was 19 and I'm really not quite sure how I got that drunk. I was drunk out of my mind, completely out of control and dancing like I’ve never danced before. And I was not the only one. There were 100 plus of us. The tiny bar and patio at Crane's were bursting at their American seams with singing and dancing Australians. Sadly, we forgot the camera so we have no visual evidence of this which - as it turns out - is very fortunate indeed.

Favourite moments from the night:

1. The Take Home Chef telling me after I sang, that I’d been great. FYI ladies, the Take Home Chef was alone, I'm pretty sure straight, and very handsome. And he cooks. Sigh.

2. Watching the husband, Matt Ellis not only dance (very, very rare) but get down, whilst singing along, at the top of his lungs… “The first black First Lady, yeah!" So you can better visualize this...



3. Singing the Australian National Anthem drunk (but apparently well I was later told).

From Australia Day Hollywood

Thanks for the photos Karen & Jansi. What's the point of having a fancy camera if I can't remember to bring it with me? Click on the image above to view the whole album.

4. Adopting new pets, the hilarious and totally adorable Swedish triplets.

5. One of the Swedish triplets (all in the band Snake of Eden – yes, you read right. They really are too much) jumping up on stage during Matt's cranking set. He pulled out his blues harp and jammed to "Hey Mister", much to the crowds' delight. "Thank you Michael Monroe," Matt announced at the end. You might note a resemblence to those fellow Scandanavians, Finnish band from the 80s...

6. Dancing and shouting along, squished up together (who doesn’t want to be squished up against the Take Home Chef & Holly Valance?) to Andy Clockwise’s rendition of “Great Southern Land”. And ladies, Andy Clockwise is now officially single.

Such a great night of GREAT, Aussie music with sets by Aya Larkin, Carla Werner and D Henry Fenton in addition to Andy Clockwise & Matt Ellis. So here's hoping your Australia Day was as wonderful as ours out here in Hollywood, California!

The Great Southern Roadtrip 2008

From The Great Southern Roadtrip 2008

PLEASE CLICK ON IMAGE TO VIEW WHOLE ALBUM.

Angels & Planets: Please Click to Enlarge

The City of Angles, the Moon, Jupiter & Venus. Sunday, the sky seemed to smile over much of planet Earth. Visible the world over was an unusual superposition of our Moon and the planets Venus and Jupiter. Pictures taken at the right time show a crescent Moon that appears to be a smile when paired with the planetary conjunction of seemingly nearby Jupiter and Venus. Pictured above is the scene as it appeared from Mt. Wilson Observatory overlooking Los Angeles, California, USA after sunset on 2008 November 30. Highest in the sky and farthest in the distance is the planet Jupiter. Significantly closer and visible to Jupiter's lower left is Venus, appearing through Earth's atmospheric clouds as unusually blue. On the far right, above the horizon, is our Moon, in a waxing crescent phase. Thin clouds illuminated by the Moon appear unusually orange. Sprawling across the bottom of the image are the hills of Los Angeles, many covered by a thin haze, while LA skyscrapers are visible on the far left. The conjunction of Venus and Jupiter will continue to be visible toward the west after sunset during much of this month. Hours after the taking of this image, however, the Moon approached the distant duo, briefly eclipsed Venus, and then moved on. by Dave Jurasevich (from Mt. Wilson Observatory)

P.E.R.S.P.E.C.T.I.V.O

The First Thanksgiving Chez Ellis

From Click on image to view album 24.

Harry Gurerra

Harry Gurerra is an arsehole. He makes me say things I really do not mean and worse, makes me see things in ways in which they usually would not appear to me. He makes me stand in the middle of an isle in Trader Joe’s supermarket and call my husband to say, virtually sobbing, “Why am I here? I don’t remember what we’re doing this week. What do I need to buy? What do you want to eat? I hate shopping. Why can‘t you do the shopping sometimes?!” Just like that, out of nowhere.

At 10 o’clock this morning I was already three chocolate bars in and my boss - who has the terrible misfortune during these times to sit opposite me - had to quietly endure my ever-growing-sad, long face. A dead giveaway when I am in the grip of Harry Gurerra is my appalling attire. The same boss will shake his head knowingly when I sit myself at my desk. I am usually dressed in a nightie under which I’ve been considerate enough to pull up some jeans or yoga pants. I am often still wearing my slippers and have - as I’ve shuffled out my front door - swathed myself in the most expensive jacket or cardigan I own in order to disguise everything else. I never do my hair or apply any make up, ever.

I’m perpetually surprised that Harry Gurerra hasn’t gotten me divorced or fired.

When I finally got home after this day of misery and torment, cramps and bloating (convinced with all my being that people had been pointing at my car as I'd driven by screaming, “Look, my God do you see that?! There’s a whale driving that car!!”), I found my husband quietly folding all the laundry. This made me cry some more. He had appeared to have already put away all the dishes too. He moved toward me taking the shopping and putting it on the table and let me fall into his arms. He held me very tightly and said, “Baby, it’s okay. You just lie down on the couch with a blanket, watch some Gossip Girl and eat some pot pie.”

“Gossip Girl isn’t on tonight,” I had sniffed.

“Well just some good, bad teli then. I can make you some tea. You know this will pass. Harry has just given you the blues, that‘s all Baby.”

Harry! It was my husband who invented this euphemism for menstruation in the first place. My mother is from Papua New Guinea and my three older sisters were all born there and all speak Tok Pisin as well as a little of the language of my mother’s village, Motu . In Motu, a woman’s menstrual cycle is called “hua-gorere”. “Hua” can mean - depending on context - “moon” or “monthly” and “gorere” means “sick”. So it’s called “moon-sick” or “monthly-sick”.

In my family, the women have always referred to this time of the month as “hua-gorere” (pronounced hoo-rare-gore-rare-rare). My nosy husband, once having deciphered the code, was never able to pronounce these Motu words correctly and eventually, came to refer to them as a him - Harry Gurerra, the arsehole. It stuck.

“Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark”

Oh for the love of God, NOT that song, PLEASE!!! Beverly Hills 90210’s music supervisor has it in for me. Here come those tears again…

Damn you Harry! Damn you to hell!! Now where are those chocolate chip cookies?!

The Right to Love

My love and I are married. This is our choice. This is what works for us. We should not have the right however to impose our lifestyle choice on others anymore than any government should have the right to deny the lifestyle choice of consenting adults. We all have the right to love whomever we please. Marriage is a civil right, an equal right for all plain and simple.

My husband and I are not the only ones who think so and we were proud to march hand in hand with many others to voice our belief that everyone deserves the right to express their love in the same way that we have been able, if they so wish.

Here's what went down in Santa Monica last night:


Still need convicing?

This Saturday, November 15th is the national rally. PLEASE get out and get involved. You can locate the rally information for your city here.

Please sign the petiton to overturn Prop 8 here.

Further, if you want to boycot businesses associated with the passing of Prop 8, here is a list. I did not fact check this list myself personally, but if any of these businesses effect you, I suggest you check them out.

Herbalife
El Pollo Loco (over 51 stores; plus the CEO contributed big bucks to pass Prop 8)
Merrill Lynch
Cisco Systems (big time Contributors)
Intel Taco Bell
Kroger foods (Ralph's and Albertsons)
American Express
NPS Pharmaceuticals
Priceline.com
Black and Decker
Hollywood Entertainment( Hollywood Video)
Jet Blue
Dell Computer
K-BIG FM radio Los Angeles
La Quinta Properties (t-a Quinta hotels)
Iomega Host Marriott (Marriott hotels and resorts)
Denny's (4 stores)
Wachovia Securities
A-1 Self Storage (40 locations in California)
Deloitte & Touche - Accounting Firm, Walnut, CA
Cristopher K. Thompson - Real Estate Agent (Encino)
U-Rent, Inc. of Camarillo
Novell
Sky West Airlines
NuSkin
Affiliated computer services
Oil States International
AES corp.
Oakley
Avista corp.
Phelps Dodge Corp.
Cadence Design
Ryder Systems (Ryder Trucks)
Corvis
Central Pacific Bank
Swift Transportation
1-80O-Contacts
Cornerstone Realty Income Trust Inc.
Cygnus Inc.
Tropical Sportswear
Diebold
Williams Companies Inc.
Zions Securities Corp
Dionex
Downey Savings and Loan
AgReserves lnc. (agriculture)
EarthShell
Sunrider Int'l.
Franklin Covey
Latham and Watkins
Hillenbrand Industries
Huntsman Chemical
Headwaters Inc.
Bain Capital
Spectra
Azul
JP Realty
Deloitte Touche
Key Corp.
Zions Securities Corp.
Knight Transportation
Bonneville comm.
K-Swiss lnc.
Telefonica Brasil
Apx Alarm
Micrel Semiconductor
Micro General
Merit Medical Systems
Monaco Coach
Microsemi Corp.
Myriad Genetics

The Little Things

There are many, AMAZING photo-essays flying around the internet that walk us through the incredible journey to this great moment in history. The moment in history when a young, black man with an unusual name, the son of an African immigrant, raised by a single, white mother became the 44th President of the United States of America. But here are my favorites. For me it has always been and will always be about the little things. I believe that it’s in the smallest of details that you see the greatness in a man.

I loved that he cleaned up after himself before leaving an ice cream shop in Wapello, Iowa. He didn't have to. The event was over and the press had left. He is used to taking care of things himself and I think this is one of the qualities that makes Obama different from so many other political candidates I've encountered. Nov. 7, 2007. Callie Shell for Time .
These two boys waited as a long line of adults greeted Senator Obama before a rally on Martin Luther King Day in Columbia, S.C. They never took their eyes off of him. Their grandmother told me, "Our young men have waited a long time to have someone to look up to, to make them believe Dr. King's words can be true for them." Jan. 21, 2008. Callie Shell for Time .Waiting: Obama listens from a back stairwell as he is introduced in Muscatine, Iowa. It was his second or third speech of the day. Unlike many of the politicians I have photographed in the past, I find it is easy to get a photograph of Obama alone. He lets his staff do their jobs and not fuss over him. Nov. 7, 2007. Callie Shell for Time .Two staffers had just passed this site and done two pull-ups. Not to be outdone, Obama did three with ease, dropped and walked out to make a speech. Missoula, Mont., 4/5/2008. Callie Shell for Time .While Obama goes over his speech in his head, Michelle and their daughters, Malia and Sasha, check him over. Several minutes later he walked out to announce he was running for President of the United States. Springfield, Ill., 2/10/2007. Callie Shell for Time .It was primary morning in New Hampshire. Barack and Michelle Obama had been campaigning separately all week. In the first few months of 2008 their private time seemed to consist of a few crossover moments in back hallways before rallies. This moment was rare and you could tell they just loved being able to sit together. Jan. 8, 2008. Callie Shell for Time .The Obama family on their campaign bus before a Fourth of July picnic in Butte, Mont., 7/4/2008. They are watching a Fourth of July celebration while the crowd arrives at their own event. Callie Shell for Time .Asleep somewhere between Derry and Salem, N.H., 1/6/2008. With three rallies down and two more to go, Obama catches a quick nap on his campaign bus as it headed for Salem. I once asked him when we were traveling through Illinois and he was about to fall asleep, if he cared if I took a picture. He said I was fine photographing him until his jaw dropped. This night his jaw dropped after I took three frames. Callie Shell for Time .
Senator Obama was doing press interviews by telephone in a holding room between events. Sometime later as he was getting ready to begin his event, he asked me if I was photographing his shoes. When I said yes, he told me that he had already had them resoled once since he entered the race a year earlier. Providence, R.I., 3/1/2008. Callie Shell for Time .

The Loudest Voice I Personally Knew this Election: Carol Gronner's Story

"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.

We are, and always will be, the United States of America."

That was how PRESIDENT ELECT BARACK OBAMA (!!!) began his historical victory speech last night ... and that is how I too shall begin, as I DID have my doubts and my fears, but I also had my hopes and my dreams - and last night, November 4th, 2008, Hope beat Fear.

It's been four long years since Barack Obama burst into my life, when I heard him speak at the 2004 Democratic Convention. I have not wavered an instant since then in thinking (and being pretty vocal about), "THAT is who I want as my President". Twenty four hours ago, it finally happened ... and I'm still an elated, happily crying mess of joy.

I am only one of 63+ Million American voters who made this day happen. There are as many inspiring stories, and am proud to have my own to share when I'm an old woman looking back on this monumental day.

After being SO inspired by hearing Senator Obama speak at the '04 Convention, I looked him up online. I donated a couple of bucks, as a thank you for giving me chills. (I still have the 2005 email response, thanking ME!) I read his books, growing more impressed. I started talking to my friends and relatives about this guy from Illinois, who talked about America like I remembered THINKING about America as a kid, but had lost in the last very dark eight years. I knew (or was told) that it was probably "too soon" for him to run, but I've always had big dreams. I kept hoping.

Buzz grew, speculation whirled ... and then early in 2007, Obama announced his candidacy for President. I was on board immediately. Interestingly, my thoughts and feelings are still pretty far to the left of Obama's ... but it didn't matter so much, because underneath it all was and is my desire for the States of America to truly be UNITED - and I saw this unique man as interested in that unity above all else.

So began the blog writing, the emails to friends who'd never heard of the guy (and probably weren't that interested at the time), the squeezing into rallies, the phone banking (and getting hung up on), the donating every chance I could, and the constant chatter, trying to get people to listen. It was interesting and challenging, trying to get people involved, when while most of my friends think along the same lines as myself, many are more radical and don't trust any politician. Or they liked Hillary. Or they didn't think Obama had a chance.

I was scoffed at - "Yeah, good luck with that, Carol. America isn't ready for a Black President". I was told that my letters of support for Obama were "Hate Mail" by an old friend. I traveled abroad and had to defend my hopes for a new America to people that had given up on us, and really now saw us (the Government, not the people, I hoped) as the Evil Empire. As I was beginning to myself.

But then it caught on. Volunteer meetings ran out of chairs. People stood for HOURS to get into rallies. People stopped hanging up, and instead volunteered their OWN time. Obama's fundraising went through the roof. Everyone started PAYING ATTENTION! Feeling the same HOPE that I felt.

And then the Iowa Caucuses happened last January. I vividly remember sitting in the car, listening to NPR, fascinated at the process, needing to go inside to a dinner, but unable to tear my ears from the radio. When the news came that Iowa, among the whitest of states, gave their voices - loudly and proudly - to Barack Obama, and gave him his first victory of the Primary Season, I put my head on the steering wheel and cried. Happy, hopeful, anything is now possible tears of joy!

Iowa opened the flood gates, and started the bandwagon. Songs were written, art was made, shirts were worn, and a strong coalition of hope and possibility was formed. It became more a movement than a campaign. EVERYONE felt the darkness of the past eight years, and we all shared the same desire to move in a positive direction. That is, everyone but the opposing factions, who did everything in their power to squash the momentum, to no lasting effect. Sometimes I think things had to get so bad in this country in order for us to wake up and finally come together to DO SOMETHING about it. It's very Star Wars, when you think about it.

It's been a long, LOOOOONG journey since then, full of emotional ups and downs, scandals and wretched tactics from Obama's opponents - but he never wavered in his grace, wisdom and calm. Because of that, neither did we.

The work intensified, making MORE phone calls, talking about it more in everyday life, writing about it constantly, traveling to former Red State Nevada (which WE WON!) to knock on doors, and making more phone calls. Honestly, the "Community Organizing" which was mocked by Republicans, is exactly what did them in. That, and a transcendent candidate named Barack Hussein Obama, whom we truly believed in.

Yesterday dawned (not that I slept) sunny, the most beautiful day possible, and I took that as a good omen, though the knot in my stomach told me not to trust it. I had a text message from a friend/neighbor before 7 a.m. that our polling place had a line of 250+ waiting to vote. That news prompted my first sob of the day ... surely all those people weren't waiting in lines like that to vote Republican again?! I turned on the morning news and saw that those lines were happening all across the country ... It was happening! People were using their voices!

But as a friend pointed out, "we've been bitch-slapped the past two elections", so I held down my growing excitement, terrified of being ruined again. In all frankness, I think I've been in somewhat of a depression ever since Kerry lost to Bush. Not that I held any of the same high hopes in that election, but just that anyone could POSSIBLY have voted in that other direction TWICE. I think the whole planet may have shared in that depression - unless they were profiting from the war and terrible economy in some way.

When it was my turn to get in line, my excitement grew. I couldn't stop talking to strangers in line about what a great day it was (my brother Paul said, "I think you might be electioneering"), and they all agreed. When it was time to punch the hole for Obama/Biden - I had more tears. When I walked out with my "I Voted" sticker on, the whole long line smiled. I allowed myself the tiniest glimmer of hope - again.

I ran from phone calls to computer screens to MSNBC and back around - all day. One pundit would boost you up, only to have another give you a gut punch. This went on all day long. I couldn't eat. I paced. My friend and fellow long-time Obama supporter, Jenny said, "Here, take a chill" - and handed me a glass of champagne to calm the nerves. (It didn't work, but it was delightful).

Finally, having passed up the big parties around town to focus (and rock back and forth) in relative calm, it was time to gather around the television and await the returns. I wondered if my drinking champagne was a premature curse. I hoped that my taking the garbage out that morning symbolically meant the Washington trash was about to get thrown out (everything had much deeper - and possibly sillier - meaning yesterday). Still ... I dared to hope.

It started to look good .. but then Chuck Todd said that it was the original projected map, and no surprises had happened yet, so people should "cool their heels, it could be a long night". UGH! You started to see people arriving in Chicago's Grant Park - nothing but smiling faces of all colors and ages - rushing to get a good spot. Obama would take one state, but then McCain would take another. Then they called Pennsylvania for Obama, and I choked up again - no McCain upset - hope! Then a bunch more, and then - Minnesota, my home state - WON! I danced and hugged and another cork popped. But nothing could be taken for granted until the last polls closed on the West Coast - where we were. Sitting on the very edge of my seat, I watched as the time clock clicked down the seconds to our 8 p.m. poll closing. I was aware of nothing else around me but that clock.

When it hit 8:00, I heard nothing. I just looked at the state percentages, saw California go for Obama, then it switched to say "United States" and the percentage, and then the word PRESIDENT under Obama's name. I literally fell to my knees, then leaped up into a World Series worthy huddle of victory, friendship, relief and pure, unadulterated JOY! Tears streamed down my cheeks and I cried like you did as a kid, shaking and quivering ... SCREAMING! WE DID IT! In lulls while we took breaths, you could hear the same happening in pockets all around outside. VICTORY! DING DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD!!! AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL! WOW!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!! AMAZING GRACE!!

We calmed down long enough to watch the incredible scene unfold in Chicago. A crazy wind whipped up suddenly outside (it was seriously crazy, making it very hard not to make "Winds Of Change" jokes, or think of the ghosts who we hoped would somehow be able to see this wondrous event) as we heard Obama give the victory speech that not only inspired us, but also called us to action. Because this is just the beginning, people. We have WORK to do. We have had great, great damage inflicted on us as a people, and as a nation, (and inflicted it upon many other people and nations, I'd regretfully add) and change is not going to happen overnight. We know this. We accept this. We SHALL overcome! So just for today, let's get back to the celebration!

We had sent out the word to all friends to meet in the parking lot of The Brig, a local bar, to join us on a victory bike ride. People we didn't even know were there waiting with our friends, as we rode up around the corner, screaming and ringing our bells. EVERY car that drove by was honking, with people hanging out the windows screaming. As our large group took over the street with our bikes, blue star balloons streaming behind us, EVERYONE we passed screamed along with us. I've never ever seen anything like it, and tears streamed down my cheeks to meet my gigantic smile. I hadn't felt that pride of country in a long time, maybe since I was a tiny kid at the Bicentennial ... or maybe the Miracle On Ice ... and so it made perfect sense that we celebrated like kids last night.

YES WE DID! YES WE DID! YES WE DID! YES WE DID!

After that, it's all a blur of happy mayhem. But when I woke up today, it was not a dream, rather, it was the FULFILLMENT of a dream! The headlines shouted triumphantly, and photos of people celebrating around the world nearly brought me to my knees again. It made me feel almost exactly as profound as 9/11, only in the exact opposite way - ELATED, as opposed to devastated. The whole world rallied around us again ... this time in joyful celebration! I can barely see through my now-welling-again eyes to type further, as I've wanted so, so badly to feel this way again about my beloved country, and now I, WE, can.

I think today of Madelyn Dunham, Barack Obama's Grandmother, who died ONE day before her Grandson became President. I think of Obama's parents, who never lived to know of their son's transformation of a nation. I think of Martin Luther King, Jr, who died so that yesterday we DID judge a man not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. I think of Bob Marley, who sang "Get Up, Stand Up" ... which we DID yesterday, to join together and CREATE CHANGE and say NO MORE! But most importantly, I think of all of us. We who are still here, who created and saw this wonderful day happen in history, but who can now also be here to back it all up in the days and years ahead.

One day, one party, one man ... can do NOTHING to change the world beyond the initial celebration. We must now ALL come together to live up to our best ideals, and really, to save the world. Things would have been drastically, ruinously, different had things gone the other way last night ... and I think we all know that. No matter who you voted for, there is no way you can be against the outpouring of joy and unity that happened last night in The United States of America, and around the globe. This is our time to lead again, by GOOD example. To truly live UNITED, as one people, and one nation ... we cannot forget that THAT is why we were founded as a New World, not to be split down the middle by things that really don't matter so much in the end. Taxes, abortion, etc .. those things that divide us aren't the things that made us great. It was the idea of a true Democracy, and that all people are created equal. What made me cry and shout in triumph last night wasn't that my guy won ... it was that we as a people SHOWED that our Democracy DOES work, that we ARE all created equal, and that America really IS beautiful. That out of many, we are truly one.

Last spring I stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in the exact spot where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I Have A Dream" speech, after a day spent at the Walter Reed War Veterans Hospital, and choked up to think of how far we had gone astray since Lincoln's day, and thought we had maybe failed for good. Next January, a million people will again fill that same space, and know that they helped make a national dream come true.

Let us continue that line of work, dream-making. Let's give all kids the dream of college. All families the dream of affordable/free health care. All workers the dream of jobs. All economies the dream of thriving. All eco-systems the dream of surviving. All nations the dream of peace.

Why not dream? Last night, we as a WORLD, learned that anything is possible.

-Carol Gronner

En-Visage

Click on it to enlarge.

President-Elect Barack Obama's Victory Speech

I bow deeply to you America, in making the fine choice to take your country back. Power to the people! The future is now in YOUR hands. Let the hangover from the parties subside and the dust settle, then it's time to roll your sleeves up and get involved in putting your country back together. He needs each and every one of you to help turn things around.

I am truly honored to be able to be here for this historic moment in time.

Here's to you America the Great!



Remarks of Senator Barack Obama
Announcement for President
Saturday, February 10th, 2007
Springfield, IL

PRESIDENT-ELECT BARACK OBAMA: If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It’s the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled - Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It’s the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It’s been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.

I just received a very gracious call from Senator McCain. He fought long and hard in this campaign, and hes fought even longer and harder for the country he loves. He has endured sacrifices for America that most of us cannot begin to imagine, and we are better off for the service rendered by this brave and selfless leader. I congratulate him and Governor Palin for all they have achieved, and I look forward to working with them to renew this nations promise in the months ahead.

I want to thank my partner in this journey, a man who campaigned from his heart and spoke for the men and women he grew up with on the streets of Scranton and rode with on that train home to Delaware, the Vice President-elect of the United States, Joe Biden.

I would not be standing here tonight without the unyielding support of my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life, our nations next First Lady, Michelle Obama. Sasha and Malia, I love you both so much, and you have earned the new puppy that’s coming with us to the White House. And while she’s no longer with us, I know my grandmother is watching, along with the family that made me who I am. I miss them tonight, and know that my debt to them is beyond measure.

To my campaign manager David Plouffe, my chief strategist David Axelrod, and the best campaign team ever assembled in the history of politics - you made this happen, and I am forever grateful for what you’ve sacrificed to get it done.

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to - it belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didnt start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington - it began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston.

It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give five dollars and ten dollars and twenty dollars to this cause. It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generations apathy; who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep; from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers; from the millions of Americans who volunteered, and organized, and proved that more than two centuries later, a government of the people, by the people and for the people has not perished from this Earth. This is your victory.

I know you didn’t do this just to win an election and I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because you understand the enormity of the task that lies ahead. For even as we celebrate tonight, we know the challenges that tomorrow will bring are the greatest of our lifetime - two wars, a planet in peril, the worst financial crisis in a century. Even as we stand here tonight, we know there are brave Americans waking up in the deserts of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan to risk their lives for us. There are mothers and fathers who will lie awake after their children fall asleep and wonder how they’ll make the mortgage, or pay their doctors bills, or save enough for college. There is new energy to harness and new jobs to be created; new schools to build and threats to meet and alliances to repair.

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America - I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you - we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who wont agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government cant solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way its been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years - block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand.

What began twenty-one months ago in the depths of winter must not end on this autumn night. This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were. It cannot happen without you.

So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other. Let us remember that if this financial crisis taught us anything, its that we cannot have a thriving Wall Street while Main Street suffers - in this country, we rise or fall as one nation; as one people.

Let us resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long. Let us remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House - a party founded on the values of self-reliance, individual liberty, and national unity. Those are values we all share, and while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress. As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, We are not enemies, but friends, though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn - I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you. And to all those who have wondered if Americas beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from our the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

For that is the true genius of America - that America can change. Our union can be perfected. And what we have already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

This election had many firsts and many stories that will be told for generations. But one that’s on my mind tonight is about a woman who cast her ballot in Atlanta. Shes a lot like the millions of others who stood in line to make their voice heard in this election except for one thing - Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.

She was born just a generation past slavery; a time when there were no cars on the road or planes in the sky; when someone like her couldn’t vote for two reasons - because she was a woman and because of the color of her skin.

And tonight, I think about all that shes seen throughout her century in America - the heartache and the hope; the struggle and the progress; the times we were told that we cant, and the people who pressed on with that American creed: Yes we can.

At a time when women’s voices were silenced and their hopes dismissed, she lived to see them stand up and speak out and reach for the ballot. Yes we can.

When there was despair in the dust bowl and depression across the land, she saw a nation conquer fear itself with a New Deal, new jobs and a new sense of common purpose. Yes we can.

When the bombs fell on our harbor and tyranny threatened the world, she was there to witness a generation rise to greatness and a democracy was saved. Yes we can.

She was there for the buses in Montgomery, the hoses in Birmingham, a bridge in Selma, and a preacher from Atlanta who told a people that We Shall Overcome. Yes we can.

A man touched down on the moon, a wall came down in Berlin, a world was connected by our own science and imagination. And this year, in this election, she touched her finger to a screen, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best of times and the darkest of hours, she knows how America can change. Yes we can.

America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves - if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made?

This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we cant, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.

You Can Vote However You Like

These are - by far - the coolest school kids I have ever seen. Offering a breath of fresh air, here are some super fly students from the Ron Clark Academy in Atlanta, reminding you all of the incredible freedom you are blessed with, in being able to vote without fear of retribution. PLEASE drop what you're doing and go out and vote next Tuesday. If these children are representative of the future of your country, things are looking up America!



Obama on the left
McCain on the right
We can talk politics all night
And you can vote however you like
You can vote however you like, yeah

Democratic left
Republican right
November 4th we decide
And you can vote however you like
You can vote however you like, yeah

(McCain supporters)
McCain’s the best candidate
With Palin as his running mate
They’ll fight for gun rights, pro life,
The conservative right
Our future is bright
Better economy in site
And all the world will feel our military might

(Obama supporters)
But McCain and Bush are real close right
They vote alike and keep it tight
Obama’s new, he’s younger too
The Middle Class he will help you
He’ll bring a change, he’s got the brains
McCain and Bush are just the same
You are to blame, Iraq’s a shame
Four more years would be insane

Lower your Taxes - you know Obama Won’t
PROTECT THE LOWER CLASS - You know McCain won’t!
Have enough experience - you know that they don’t
STOP GLOBAL WARMING - you know that you won’t

I want Obama
FORGET OBAMA
Stick with McCain and you’re going to have some drama
We need it
HE’LL BRING IT
He’ll be it
YOU’LL SEE IT
We’ll do it
GET TO IT
Let’s move it
DO IT!

Obama on the left
McCain on the right
We can talk politics all night
And you can vote however you like
You can vote however you like, yeah

Democratic left
Republican right
November 4th we decide
And you can vote however you like, I said
You can vote however you like, yeah

I’m talking big pipe lines, and low gas prices
Below $2.00 that would be nice

But to do it right we gotta start today
Finding renewable ways that are here to stay

I want Obama
FORGET OBAMA,
Stick wit McCain you gone have some drama
MORE WAR IN IRAQ
Iran he will attack
CAN’T BRING OUR TROOPS BACK
We gotta vote Barack!

Obama on the left
McCain on the right
We can talk politics all night
And you can vote however you like, I said
You can vote however you like, yeah

Democratic left
Republican right
November 4th we decide
And you can vote however you like, I said
You can vote however you like, yeah