Stu Jenks: Fezziwig Photography, Music, and Writing

"Thank You, North Carolina"

"Thank You, North Carolina"

[Thank you, to Mike C., and to all the good folk in the Tarheel State, who gave Senator Barack Obama his impressive victory tonight, in the North Carolina Presidential Primary. Thank You to the state, where I kissed my first girl, saw my first Monet in person at the North Carolina Museum of Art, heard my first live concert (namely the Low Spark tour by Traffic), graduated barely with a fine art degree from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The state where I loved watching the Tarheels play basketball on the Pilot Life Broadcasting Network (both as a confused child and as a stoned college kid), where I first fell in love with her, and then with another her and then another her. Thank you, North Carolina. Thank you.

Right now, it's 56% to 42%, with 62% of the votes in. North Carolina, you are making me cry tonight. Crying tears of joy. And Mike? Get well soon.]

"Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia" (c) 2007

"Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia" (c) 2007 Stu Jenks

    "...Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." - Martin Luther King Jr., in Memphis, Tennessee, April 3rd, 1968

    [Rev. King's last words, to the musician Ben Branch on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel, Memphis, April 4th, 1968:  "Ben, Make sure you play 'Take My Hand, Precious Lord' in the meeting tonight. Play it real pretty."]

"...at the Singing Rocks" (c) 2008

"Dead Hundreds-Year-Old Ironwood Tree at the Singing Rocks, Ironwood Forest National Monument, Arizona" (c) 2008 Stu Jenks

[On the fifth anniversary of the War in Iraq.]

"Lincoln in Time" (c) 2008

"Lincoln in Time, Washington, D.C." © 2008 Stu Jenks

Mom and I may have just seen the name of a distant cousin of mine, on the walls of the Vietnam War Memorial. She's not really sure. She says she'll check. I choked anyway, for a relative I never knew, taking a picture of James J. Jenks Jr.'s etched name in the reflective black marble. Mom seemed somewhat unimpressed with The Wall. You have to understand. She grew up with the Jefferson, Washington and Lincoln Memorials with all their size and grandeur. (Literally, she grew up with them, having been born and raised just across the Potomac in Alexandria, Virginia.) A black gash in the earth she doesn't quite get, being Old School as she is. But I'm a baby boomer, a man who publicly protested the Vietnam War when I was a kid and who pretty much hates all stupid wars, Vietnam being on top of the list with The Civil War being a close second and The War on Terror, a not too distant third. I get The Wall. But no judgment toward Mom. She is who she is, born of a generation that loves the large visual stroke, not so much the subtle symbolic gesture.

We leave The Wall and walk the short distance to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

"I'm going to go up and take a few pictures of Abe. You be alright here for a few minutes?" I ask.

"I'm fine. Go ahead," says Mary.

"You don't want to come, do you?" thinking Mom's having a hard time just navigating the curbs much less the tall steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

"No. No. I'm fine."

The sun's an hour from going down. It's clear and crisp this Christmas week in D.C., but not too cold. Canada geese fly overhead. I climb the stairs to where the large sculpture of the Seated Lincoln resides. People are everywhere, and they seem to be folk from many lands. I hear French, German, Japanese, Australian English and what sounds like a Middle Eastern language. Everyone and their mother's son are taking pictures of their families at the feet of Lincoln. It is a cluster fuck, but a pleasant one, a happy frenzy. I then walk to the southern part of the monument where the Gettysburg Address is carved large in the walls. Hardly anyone is here. Just one or two of us. I find the shot and take it. I then take it twice and three times. I want this shot, more that I wanted The Wall shot. The word 'Devotion' has struck me this time, etched in a very large, very beautiful font. I back away from the wall and take a few minutes to just be with the words. All the words.

I quietly thank Abe for all he did, as I leave, and head down the marble steps to Mom. She's just where I left her.

"Ready, Mom?"

"Yes, I am."

"Having fun while I was gone?"

"I was starting to get cold. That bench is icy cold."

I smile. "Well, let's head back to the truck."

"OK."

Mom doesn't move too fast these days and it helps her to take my arm as we walk. It feels nice to have Mary on my arm. Being the good son and all. As we slowly stroll, Mom tells me a story from her childhood.

"When I was a teenager, we used to take the bus over from Alexandria on Saturdays. You know we didn't like Lincoln too much. So my friends and I would climb up into Abe's lap and shake our fingers at him, saying 'Shame on you, Abe. Shame.' We were the only ones here. Just my friends and I." She pauses. "No, son, this isn't my favorite Memorial."

"Which one is your favorite?"

"I'm quite fond of the Jefferson Memorial myself," she says with a little smile on her face.

As we walk I think of when my mother was a kid. It was the 1930's. Washington, D.C. was a small town then. Truly. It wasn't until World War Two that D.C. became a city. And my mother isn't exaggerating. She and her girlfriends were here by themselves. Just some Southern girls who didn't like the man who started the War of Northern Aggression. Mom clutches my arm as we slowly walk to the truck. I smile as we walk.

Mary Elton Saum is a Daughter of Virginia. Always has been. Always will be. And will continue to be, after she's dead and buried. It's a good thing.

"The Neo-Cons and the Con-Temps " © 2007

"The Neo-Cons and the Con-Temps " © 2007

Top Image: "Last of the Great Buffalo Hunters" (Detail) [Paint, Leather, Ceramic, and Glue on Wood] (c) 1987 Robert Arneson, Denver Art Museum. Below Image: "Feather Sculpture #2" (Zoom Fuzzy Detail) [Willow, Feathers, Buckskin] (c) 1994 Truman Lowe, Denver Art Museum.
 

Contemporary Artists are the Neo-Cons of the Art World. Not that much difference between them and George Bush and his minions.

Now that I have your attention, let me explain and let me define a few terms too. And maybe give you a message of hope for the future of Art too.

Modern Art is pretty much everything from the late 1800's up to the 1970's. From Picasso to Pollock. Also Matisse, Calder, Warhol, Christo, Arneson and everything good and powerful in between. Modernism dealt with the ideas of abstraction, emotion, and life in the modern world, but it still had an eye for design, color and form. Contemporary Art, on the other hand, is Stuff that is called Visual Art that comes out of New York, Los Angeles, London and a few other U.S. and European cities since the late 70's and 80's. It's about some sort of idea about something, usually shocking or political, and has absolutely nothing to do with Beauty and very little to do with Design. The idea is the thing, what the eye sees is secondary. Most everyone who isn't involved in the Art World thinks it's pretentious, or meaningless or ugly, or all the above and most times they are right. Those inside the Contemporary Art World see it as cutting edge and original and forward thinking, and they are only right about it being original. Each bowel movement is different from the next. Same can be said about most of this shit.

People say it's not Art. They are wrong. It's Art. It's just bad Art.

[Brief aside: It's seem bizarre to me that people call Bad-Art, Not-Art. If you go to a crappy movie, you don't come out and say 'That wasn't a movie.' If you go to a concert and it sucks, you don't say that it wasn't music. You just say that it's shitty music. Only visual art has this distinction and it think I know why. Because people hold Visual Art up to a higher standard, to an almost religious height, which makes sense since some of the most beautiful Art ever made was spiritual. We have higher expectations of Visual Art. It must be beautiful or at the very least well done and well produced. It must be transcendent. It must not be merely entertainment or a joke. It must be not just a bumper sticker or a sign that someone needs therapy. It should lift us up to be better or at least lift up our spirits a bit.]

And sadly, Art which was the primary source of human creation for thousand of years is now a distant 4^th at best, behind Music, Motion Pictures, and The Internet. The number of people that go to an opening at a small city Contemporary Art museum or gallery on a Saturday night is less than the number of hits I get on my little Stu-Blog in a day. Not that my blog is all that wonderful but you get my drift.

And why are they, the Contemporaries, The Con-Temps, like the Neo-Cons and George Bush? Consider this. The Neo-cons look like Republicans but they aren't really. They are not fiscal conservatives. There are autocrats. They are bullies. They will break the bank. Same said for the Con-Temps. They looks like artists and act like they like art but they don't. They like themselves and people like themselves and no one else. They are an exclusive elite club, like the Neo-Cons, in which members can only enter if they fit a very narrow definition of Cool. Preferably Cool with a lot of Cash. The Con-Temps aren't interested in Beauty or Peace or Building Community. They are selfish and self-centered, only wishing to build in their power, ego and prestige. Same can be said for the political Neo-Cons. Chaos, be it War or economic downturn builds more opportunity to make money from cronyism and from buying low and selling high. Same with the Con-Temps. Cronyism is a key. You sell each other shit. It's a visual circle jerk in which everyone must grab the cock of the guy next to him. And finally, there is an orthodoxy to both the Neo-Cons and the Con-Temps. It's my way or the highway. Believe in my socio/political worldview or my narrow artistic worldview, and everything is fine. But if you don't, I'll bring you down with bombs, bribery, or vicious ridicule. All with a smile of the self-righteousness on their face. No 'live and let live' in these folk. No love and tolerance from them. But they may give you a sales pitch that says that they do love and appreciate you and your differences. Don't believe it. They are either trying to take something from you, or force something on you.

And I'm not just speaking sour grapes. I was what they called a Conceptual Artist in Art School in the 1970's. Leashing myself to trees. Burying myself in fire brick in the center of campus while the cameras rolled. Painting outlines of traffic dead on city streets in the middle of the night, and getting in trouble with the law. I had some Big Ideas, and I had my shtick, my rap about those Ideas. But looking back, I had a couple of good pieces but most of my work was unfocused, marginally produced and smelled of Marijuana smoke. But even back then I wasn't completely sold on the idea, that The Idea was king and that The Visual was a serf you raped in the fields. I was making yearly pilgrimages to the Hirshhorn Museum in D.C. to see Rodin's "Burgher of Calais" and "Balzac". I've loved Calder since I was a kid. And my experimental 8 mm films from Art School did have some heart, not just brains.

Of late, I'm shopping around getting a book published of my Art and Words. Not going so well but I have friends who are helping. I may end up self-publishing at some point, when I get an extra 5000 dollars from somewhere. Anyway, the reason I'm working on books is I'm tired of dealing with the Entitled Rich (and I'm not talking about the Generous and Soulful Rich, so to my two rich Michaels I know, I'm not talking about you). I'm tired of them talking down my prices, of being fickle and arrogant, and I suddenly realized a few years ago that it's par for the course these days in the Visual Arts. I'm expecting a pig to be a pony. And I like books for I can sell them to people like me: the Struggling Middle and Working Class who always have enough money for a good CD, a good movie or a good book. I want to be another good book they can buy.

And I believe there is hope for Art. I hear that students out of high school are demanding that their university Art professors teach them how to draw better, sculpture better, craft better and if they don't, they leave and go to a school that will. I visited the Disney School of Animation in L.A. a few years ago and saw amazing draftsmanship on butcher paper hanging in the lobby after a critique. Master illustrators like Charles Vess are finally getting their due. Chihuly has a multi-million dollar glass chandelier in the Bellagio Lobby in Vegas. The elegant furniture of Scott Baker is winning awards. And Crane Day, weaver extraordinaire, can be found working magic with the mohair wool just ten feet from my studio door.

I think I'll to go to my studio now, and play my mandolin for a while. Play it through my Roland Cube with the Chorus and Reverb settings at 10 o'clock. My little ambient songs are quite pretty, I think, and quite Modern. And not Contemporary in the least.

 

 

"Stu's Fun Facts: The Pusch Ridge Rant" (c) 2007

“Stu’s Fun Facts #2: The Pusch Ridge Rant” © 2007 Stu Jenks

       [Image: "Pusch Ridge and Meghan's Hill"]

       Fun Fact #1: To paraphrase Henry Rollins, sweeping generalizations are never accurate but they sure are fun. I was politely corrected or confronted or something like that, about my generalization that Writers tend to be a more laid-back group than say, Contemporary Visual Artists. Well, I was told and I heard clearly numerous examples of crazy-ass writers behaving badly and I stand corrected. People are people, artist are artists. It has to do with the man or the woman, not about what they make.

       Fun Fact #2: How about a generalization that Crafts People are more fun than Contemporary Artists? Can I get an amen there? OK, OK. I’ll stop.

       Fun Fact #3: To flesh out something from my last Fun Facts, (Is this how it’s going to go, you might think? Is Stu going to now start explaining what he meant in a previous blog entry? They must an Web word for it.), when I said that a good number of Contemporary Artists have ‘mysterious sources of income’ and they let on like they make it from their product, I wasn’t criticizing the Old Money or the New Money that lets them make their Art. Frankly, I hope I get some family money someday myself (if there is any left). What I get pissed about is their unwillingness to be upfront about it, that I’ve never heard this once from these any of these folk that I know: “Boy, I sure am grateful my father left me all that money’, or “Thank God my wife makes a ton of cash as a real estate attorney”, or “Sure glad I have that trust fund.” Never. Nada. Ain’t heard them say it once. But I have often seen the smugness of their faces, and heard their subtle condescending remarks about those who 'don't make a full commitment to The Work.' That's code for meaning those who don't make Art full time aren't serious about it. Well, Fuck you. If I had $30,000 coming in from a trust fund, or someone else was paying my bills, I'd quit the day job tomorrow and make Music and Art full time. But that isn't the case. And again, I would love to have a lot of cash, but it ain't really about the money. Ok, a little bit, but mostly about the attitude of superiority. (Have you ever noticed that those that tell you to not worry about money are those who already have it?)
       And finally, you can bet dimes to a donut, I'd give credit to those who put the money in my pocket, if and when they did. I already do. Every print that's sold, every CD that's purchased is given with a big virtual sloppy kiss attached. Hell, I’ll thank my mother now too. She’s bought me my fancy Canon D30 for Christmas last year. I couldn’t afford the $1200 that camera costs. So thank Mary Jenks for many of the images you’ve seen on this blog and elsewhere in 2007. Speaking of Mary, she’s ____ years old and her health is dicey. Say a prayer for Mother Mary, if you are the praying type.

  Fun Fact #4: Speaking of Craft People, rent or buy “Craft In America”, a DVD of the three hour PBS mini-series. If you like beauty, good design, good people and a sense of community, watch this DVD. It has given me hope for the American future in the Visuals Arts. The Great White Hope of Art won’t be coming from New York or LA in the 21st century. She’ll be coming from Penland, or Helena, or Oakland, or Devon, or Raleigh, or maybe he’ll be coming from Alaska. Look for this DVD. It’s important, in a small way, as one of the Penland artists said.

       Fun Fact #5: The Boss has a new CD out, "Magic" it's called. It’s good. I'm not a person who worships at the altar of Bruce Springsteen, but he, like Neil Young, Bruce Cockburn or others, are still pushing their limits and looking at the world with honest eyes, and with wounded hearts. Plus they also know how to write a good tune. “You’ll Be Coming Down”, “Last to Die” and “Long Walk Home” are my favs.

       Fun Fact #6: “Deer Hunting with Jesus”, Joe Bagent’s book on the unspoken class war in America is infuriatingly funny and sometime just infuriating. Joe is the Progressive Prodigal Son who returns to his hometown of Winchester, Virginia. His distaste and loathing for greedy business men and women is only surpassed by his deep and honest love for Rednecks and for Good Old Boys and Girls, who he calls 'my people'. A great read but be warned. You’ll want to throw the book across the room at least once, but you’ll also laugh so hard you may drop it. And if you are a Southerner, you will get it like a Parisian gets cheese.

       Fun Fact #7: What’s up with all these shows on TV that are about the problems of the spoiled and horny Rich? Do we really need more Desperate Housewives and Husbands? Even the fun shows on HBO like “Californication” and “Entourage” are about the very rich. I guess the middle class, and the poor ain’t that funny anymore. Reminds me of the time of the escapist films of the 1930's.

       Fun Fact #8: If you live in Tucson, hit the Conrad Wilde Gallery this month. The collage, assemblage and mixed media show “Parts of a Whole” is wonderful. It’s worth going to see Catherine Nash’s dark but hopeful work. And Margaret Suchland’s correspondences, David Adix’s knifes, and Greg Stephens’ blood red collages ain’t too shabby either. The show will be up until October 27th.

       Fun Fact #9: Who in the fuck am I going to vote for in the Democratic primary? Fuck me. I hate to say this…I really do…but the Democrats are almost as bad at the Republicans. Selfish, disingenuous, about themselves only. I guess I’ll vote for Edwards, for he is the only one talking about The Poor, but I saw him speak a couple months ago, and I wasn’t impressed. Slick. Not much meat. A lot of air, too little fire. I’ll vote for Hillary if she is the eventual nominee but not now. I saw her speaking at a barbeque in Iowa on CSPAN yesterday and it was like watching an actress performing. Her voice was quieter, more modulating, more compassionate but as soon as she was done with the formal speech, she was back to shouting in that loud angry shrill to someone in the wings. I love her husband and how he speaks. I don’t love her. And Obama. Christ, am I the only one that see it as slightly racist that many Liberals are falling over this very junior Senator from Illinois, simply because he is Black. And a ‘presentable’ Black man too. Oh, he's black but not too black. I think Barack is a good guy, just not his time to be President. Be a Senator for four more years and then run. Richardson looks like he’s going to have a heart attack when he speaks, sweat pouring off his brow. Biden, my early choice, I now think is just plain nuts. The stuff that comes out of his mouth is sometimes bizarre. I like his Iraq Partition Plan but besides that I think he is one french fry short of a Happy Meal. And Kucinich. Dennis, just go and be with your gorgeous wife, fight for liberal causes and make a little cash. And what’s up with you saying “Thank You” after ever time you speak in a debate. You’re not a performer. You're not in a band, saying “Thank You’ at the end of a song before the audience applauds. Geez.
        So Edwards it is. For now. Can I vote for Elizabeth instead?

       Fun Fact #10: Greed and ignorance, unfettered and encouraged, will eventually kill our economy and diminish what's left of the Hopeful American Soul. It won't be a terrorist's nuclear weapon in Topeka. It'll be us. Americans will kill the dream themselves, and most won't even see it pass as they watch Russian porn on their Dells.

       Fun Fact #11: Fear is a useful tool that Republicans and some Democrats have used since 9/11 with great skill. You get the people scared enough and they will turn in their own grandmother if she says a nice word about Allah. You can also get Poor People to vote against their own best interest, with false hope, denial and fear. “Someday I won’t be working at Wal-Mart. I’m going to be a millionaire someday.” I actually heard that spoken once.

       Fun Fact #12: But there is hope, not in the big but in the small. It’s always been that way. A gentle word to a friend. A touch on the shoulder of someone who is hurt. A small check to The Food Bank. The laughter between lovers. The awe at seeing a desert sunset. Doing some heavy lifting for a co-worker. National healing may come from the initiative of bold leaders, but I won’t hold my breath. Most likely, it’ll come from the kindness, generosity, and soulfulness of a very good friend, an impassioned colleague, or a present and caring relative. One person at a time. I can’t give up hope, even though I'm close at times. I may be surrounded by a rude and sleeping populace but I’m committed to being awake, to being kind even when I’m mad, to being generous with what I have, and to living in the blessed and endless moment. That’s all we have, you know. Right here. Right now. Nothing else exists. And next time I’m worrying about my indebtedness or the selfish direction of this country, feel free and remind me, friend, that all that really exist is that sweet e-mail or that funny phone call or that pleasant face to face, I'm having with you.

[Image: "Daddy's got a new pair of boots" (c) 2007 Stu Jenks]

"Stu's Fun Facts: The Bisbee Mona Lisa" (c) 2007

“Mona Lisa, Bisbee, Arizona” © 2007 Stu Jenks

       [Writing teachers tell me to show not tell. Sorry. I feel the need to rant. This is a blog after all. So. Welcome to perhaps the first of Stu's Fun Facts. OK, not really facts. My opinions based on selected data that validates my point of view.]

       Fun Fact #1: “We’ll wait until there is more blood in the water, then we’ll step on their necks,” said a real estate developer friend to me recently. No sense of irony was in his voice, no emotion, very matter of fact. And he's not a bad guy.

       Fun Fact #2: Per the current conventional wisdom in the Psychotherapy Field, you don’t give Antisocial Personalities and Sociopaths treatment or therapy. That just gives them more tools to hurt people, and they also tend to fuck up a good group therapy dynamic. The only therapeutic regime that is recommended is to get them involved in small business and entrepreneurship. Seriously. There, they can be hurtful and cutthroat without actually cutting real throats. Plus they are applauded for their business acumen, thus feeding their huge egos.

       Fun Fact #3: Blood in the water is a good thing in American Business today. Probably always has been to a certain degree, but now it’s apparently the rule of thumb, not just what that bastard downtown did last week. Whatever happened to making a good product, providing a good service and getting a fair profit in return? Now, it’s buy as low as you can, sell as high as you can, and make as much profit as possible, screwing the people at both ends and the consumer in the middle. You’re considered a fool if you do otherwise.

       Fun Fact #4: So why does The World, Old, New and Third, hate us? Ain't because of our freedom or maybe it is, our model of a Free Ecomony. American Business has financially fucked and exploited most of the world since the end of World War Two. Buy their oil, their diamonds, their rugs, their trinkets for chicken feed; sell it in Americans for more than it’s worth. Ain’t unfettered Capitalism grand?
      
       Fun Fact #5: Old Southern Expression: You can’t worship both Money and God.

       Fun Fact #6: A good third to a half of all successful Modern and Contemporary Artists in America (and I mean those where it LOOKS like they are solely financially supporting themselves on their Art) have ‘mysterious sources of income’, namely trust funds, rich spouses or family, hidden investments, etc. They don't keep the wolves away only from the sale of their art, or from doing Have-Mouths-Will-Travel. Funny though. They never tell you this, nor admit to other income. They seem to have a need to impress upon you, that their Nightmare On A Wall that’s hanging in a gallery somewhere, really did sell for big bucks. Most artists in America have day jobs, or boring jobs, or teaching jobs, or design jobs, that support their passion for creating good Art and good Music. Me? I’ve had a day job for almost ten years now, that has allowed me to get 20 grand into debt, while I've tried making a ‘career’ i.e. Make money, or at least break even in the world of Art and Music. I’ve made some good work, gotten some good notices, met some wonderful people, and sold a few tunes and images, but I still have only a hundred bucks in my checking account until payday. And I'm still trying to get that book published. But I keep telling myself that it ain't about the money, but sometimes when I'm broke, it sure feels like it.

        Fun Fact #7: Romantic Love is a a Big Feeling with a Big Surrender with the added punch of Big Desire. Ownership is not part of the deal, even though many fuck it up by holding on too tight. It’s about Sex and Trust, a faith that you won’t hurt me too much. Not, not hurt me at all. Just not too much. Sounds easy, but it’s gotten harder as I’ve gotten older. I was more willing to jump hand-in-hand off the Cliff of Love with someone I barely knew, or kinda knew, or knew real well, back in my Twenties and Thirties. Now I'm 52. The heart has only so much tissue that can scar without it starting to get hard. But I still pull at my heart, stretching it as much as it’ll go, adding God's linament of Forgiveness to it, and love and trust as best I can. It's a good thing.

       Fun Fact #8: The Internet gurus may be right. YouTube videos and MySpace garage bands may be killing Art and Music. Then again, it wasn’t that long ago that a hundred Art aficionados and critics to New York and London were telling us what was Good Art and what was Bad music. The Web will either kill or free Art. Jury's still out.

       Fun Fact #9: And the bottom line is? It isn’t about the bottom line. It's not about the money. (Even though there is another old Southern Expression that says, that Money Makes Unhappiness Easier.) I know a good number of rich people, whose husbands, wives or children are distant and that they never believe they have enough. But I also know a good number of wealthy people who use their money for good, know that have more than enough, and have the love and respect of their neighbors, family and friends. And I can say the same of the poor too. I have a bipolor recovering drug addict friend, who live on SSI, but takes a good portion of that money so he can race his Hornet car on the dirt track by the dump every Saturday night. Now, granted, I do wish I had more money. Right now, it’s more hand to mouth than I like and I have no savings to speak off.  But I do have friends who love and care for me and I them, and occasionally I have a girlfriend who knows how to touch and kiss and listen and do that funny hip thing. I have a nice little Art studio, a cute little apartment, and food in the fridge. I have ears to hear to problems of my friends, lips to speak the truth when it is called for, and some level of compassion for even those I don't like very much. I have a 19-year-old truck that rattle and squeaks like a son of a bitch, but I ain’t taking the bus anywhere. And that old Pathfinder will take me to Owl's Head whenever I like. I'm a rich man, even if I have maxxed out a number of my credit cards.

       Fun Fact #10: The Beatles and The Christ were right. Love is the answer. To everything.

"On The Mindless Menace of Violence" by Bobby Kennedy (c) 1968

On The Mindless Menace of Violence by Bobby Kennedy, City Club of Cleveland, Cleveland, Ohio
April 5, 1968; [On the day after Dr. King's death] 

This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.  

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.                      

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.                      

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.  

 "Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lost their cause and pay the costs."  

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.  

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.  

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much  is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.  

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.  

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.  

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.                      

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.  

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.  

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.  

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.                      

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can. 

Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again. 

From Juanita Sims of Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico and of Tucson, Arizona, USA.

 

"Desperate for a Change: Views of an Immigrant" (c) 2007
By Juanita Sims of Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico and of Tucson, Arizona, USA.

 

       As we enter the second half of 2007, the Immigration Reform Bill that has been brewing in the past few weeks by Congress is history – once again. Frankly, I’m glad. I opposed it, but surely not for the same reasons that many people did. I am now a legal permanent resident of the U.S. – still a Mexican citizen, though, and still in the process of finalizing the last details of my pending case with INS, now known as BCIS. So, in reality, I’m not all that "permanent" yet, which prompts me to use an alias that will allow me to express myself more freely.

       I came to this country almost a decade ago, legally I might add, and for reasons no different than of those who jump the fence or cross the river every day. I wanted to educate myself, improve my quality of life, and contribute in bettering the society that I would live in. I knew that I was entering a world of opportunity, which is found in very small doses in my country of origin. However, even though I did everything "by the book", it feels like I barely made it. I struggled financially and constantly dealt with the uncertainly of what would happen when my visa expired. I was by myself, away from my family and everything I knew, but persisted nonetheless. I guess you can say it’s the same old story that we always hear about bright-eyed immigrants. So why do so many people insist on calling them "illegals"?

       As I have observed, the words people use to talk about this topic immediately reflect how they feel about it and towards the newcomers. Let me get this straight, nobody is illegal; their actions may be so, but people never are, and to refer to them as such is derogatory. Sure, it may be easier to pronounce the word "illegals"; I know I have used the word for ease of speech. The problem lies when we call them that with venomous intentions and a hateful heart. And even if they broke the law, we must decide what is more important: to punish someone who committed a crime that is statutory in nature, or to look at the big picture, and focus on the human side of this tragic exodus. As a tax-payer, law-abiding individual, of course it’s very disturbing for me to know that so many foreign people are coming to live and work in the U.S., potentially having a questionable impact on my new homeland. But ultimately I am and will always be an immigrant, and can’t help but be significantly biased on this issue, so I choose to look at this from an immigrant’s perspective. I am very lucky because I speak English and my physical appearance allows me to blend in very well. I truly sympathize with what these immigrants go through, and yet, I can’t imagine what it’s like to live in the shadows, knowing that you’re not welcome and are regarded as a second-class person.

       Do immigrants commit violent crime? Sure. The criminal element is present in every human group, but it’s pointless to establish any kind of connection between their violent actions and their legal status. If an undocumented man gets a DUI, we should frown on his irresponsible behavior of endangering the lives of innocents, regardless of whether the drunk driver is in this country legally. A DUI is a DUI, assault is assault, robbery is robbery, whether it was committed by direct descendants of the Mayflower or by Juanito Perez of Michoacan. A violent crime or any kind of infraction should not be mitigated or aggravated because of someone’s legal status. We also need to be aware that it’s the inherent poverty, not the immigrants’ legal status that is correlated with the high crime rates in these populations.

       I would like to add that most people who come to work in the U.S. are highly motivated and contribute hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not more, to our economy and social welfare system, contrary to popular beliefs. Since so many of them live "in the shadows", it’s unlikely they will ever get back what they put into taxes, Medicare and Social Security deductions.

       This situation is shameful, and even I recognize it to be major problem. But let’s do ourselves a favor and stop misplacing the blame, because that will only extend the problem. These immigrants are doing what they feel they have to do – period. It is what any of us would do if we faced similar circumstances. So, it we truly care about finding a solution to this problem, let’s blame – I mean – hold someone else accountable. The American Government is somewhat responsible for part of the immigration crisis, but not enough to be blamed for it. The true guilty party in this sorry state of affairs is the Mexican Government, and anyone knowing a little bit about the history and economic policies in Mexico as well as the current turmoil of the Drug Cartel wars, will agree with me. I lived in Mexico for 20 years, enough said. To imply that there’s corruption and an absent legal system is quite an understatement. And I don’t mean to be negative, but the sad reality is that being successful or simply having a moderately decent lifestyle in Mexico does not rely so much on a person’s drive and work ethic, but on factors that are beyond most people’s control. However, some people refuse to give up hope and go where there’s true potential for success, happiness, and a brighter future for their children.

       We need to attack this unfortunate situation at its root. Mexico has to be part of the solution because its government is seemingly the root of the problem. It would be great for the Mexican government to cooperate with the U.S. in an effort to not crush those who want to immigrate by keeping them on one side of the fence by force, but to create a sustainable workforce in their home country. I know it sounds very Utopian, it most likely is, so I guess Plan B could include economic sanctions to Mexico if its government fails to pull its weight on this issue. It’s just a suggestion. Economic sanctions may not work for North Korea or Iran, but trust me, they would produce quick results with Mexico.

       Finally, for those who say that those "illegals" should go to the back of the line and immigrate legally, let’s just say it’s not quite so simple. As far as I know, someone can’t go by himself to the authorities and simply say, "I want to immigrate", fill out a few forms and like magic, get his residency. There has to be a petitioner, i.e. a sponsor, whether it’s a first degree relative, spouse, or employer, who requests the legalization of a person. The process varies in length and cost, but as an example, it may take up to five years currently for someone to become a legal resident. As for cost, well you can spend as little as $1000 without a lawyer, or as much as you are willing to pay if you get an attorney (and chances are you will need one). It’s not cheap, and of course what you get out of it is worth every penny, if you have the money. Too bad so many immigrants can’t come up with the cash. The proposed Immigration Bill was not at all amnesty. It would have allowed people to immigrate without a petitioner if they were here before a specific date, but to paraphrase Senator McCain, it would take someone about 13 years to gain legal residency – not citizenship. That’s after they paid $5000+ in fines and other side costs. This is why I was glad that the Bill did not pass. It would have been a waste of my tax dollars to try to implement a bureaucratic process that is more impractical and redundant than what was already in place.

 

 

       Sincerely,

              Juanita Sims

                     July 4th, 2007

 

 

       [Image: "The Fourth at Studio BR-549, Tucson, Arizona" by Stu Jenks (c) 2007; By the way, Juanita's a friend of mine. She's as pretty as a picture, a picture which you'll not see on this blog.]

"I Want My Country Back" (c) 2007

"I Want My Country Back" (c) 2007 Stu Jenks

"That'll be $4.43, Sir" says the polite middled aged white cashier. I hand him the money for my two 20 ounce Coke Zeros, and for my cup of coffee.

He sees my shirt.

"I want my country back, too," he says.

Initially I'm surprised. White guy in his fifties, not a conservative? Then again, I'm 52 and I'm left of Genghis Khan.

I smile, as I accept my receipt and change.

"I'm about ready to tell 'em, they can keep it," I say.

The cashier chuckles.

I look around to see if there's anyone behind me in line. There isn't.

"And can you believe, that what they are focusing on this past week in Washington, was whether to pardon Scooter Libby or not?" I say with a bit of heat.

"Yea, while our boys are dying in Iraq," says the man, with his own fire.

I thank him and leave the mini-mart, walking to my truck that's parked at the gas pumps. As I stroll, I have a half grin on my face.

That white man give me hope.

"The Central Arizona Project at Twin Peaks" (c) 2007

"The Central Arizona Project at Twin Peaks, Just West of Tucson" (c) 2007 Stu Jenks

[The drought is just entering its second decade. A relatively new reservoir in Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico is now dry. The levels at the Arva Valley Aquifer, even with the recharge from the CAP, are starting to drop. The long range predictions say less Winter rain and more Summer heat. And more and more people are moving to Tucson every day.

We, in Tucson, have been generally living the Good Life as far as water is concerned for a good long while. We've had a huge aquifer to draw from for years, and most of the wells around town are tasty and clean, with only a few tainted wells to the south. Phoenix, to the north, has been drinking crap water from the Central Arizona Project (CAP) for years. They tapped out the Gila and Salt Rivers years ago, forcing them to drink from the Big Concrete Ditch that brings water hundreds of miles from the Colorado River. But not us Tucsonans. We drank CAP water for all of a month. It torn up our pipes and infrastructure, making our tap water orange and we stopped drinking that junk water right quick. Instead we now force-pump it through sand into the aquifer to blend with the good stuff.

No, we Tucsonans have been living high on the water hog for decades. That is, until now.

It's not a crisis yet, but many experts say around 2010, it will begin to be one. Water shortages and probably no end to the drought.

Too many people in too small a place, all of it in The High Sonoran Desert. Was bound to happen sooner or later.

Real estate is overpriced now in Tucson. Land speculators came through a couple years ago, inflated the price of all the homes. But something tells me that you'll be able to get a screaming deal on the 2000 square footer in the year 2050. You'll just need a rain barrel out back.]

"The Fugee Trail" (c) 2007

["The Fugee Trail, Avra Valley, Arizona" (c) 2007 Stu Jenks. A hoop dance for the ghosts of those 'Sin Papales' (without papers) that haunt this valley. Also, by the way, this is my first digital nocturnal time-exposure image ever, taken with my Canon D-30]