May 29th, 2005

Ginger1991

I just sat and watched the WORST movie on Latenight TV...

And could not take my EYES off of it!

*laughing*

The Original Sin With Jolie and Banderas...

IT WAS AWEFUL

i watched the whole thing, every bad Harlequin Romance minute of it.

*head in hands*

THEY WERE SO PRETTY!!!

i feel dirty.

*shame*

Now I'm all hot an bothered and home alone...
listening to the rain.

*sigh*
  • Current Music
    Metal Postcard
USAF SG1

I woke from a nightmare and knealt before my shelf of old journals....

Looking for a day.

Was not even sure of the year.

'92?
'93?

I dug through '93.....for an hour, book after book.
Reading the scrawl of 22 and 23 year old ginger.

Then I found a reference to the pages I was looking for.
And reluctantly closed the book in my hand and reached
for the one marked along the spine as 3/24/92-5/11/92.

When I was 21.
Still wrote in cursive...and black ink.
The day I and my Father and Mother
visited Washington DC for the first time.

April 1, 1992

The European flavour thickens,
as we toddle into town---
three green tourists in D.C.

City life must ingrain
a level of continental awareness.
Like rats, under certain conditions we will
all fall into behavioral patterns.

Slate, jet striped skies.
The rumble jostle of the Metro...
the only real connection my mind
can make
is with Germany.

Fool's Day.
Green tree lined expanse
before 1600 Pennsylvania,
I'm watching people
pass
the weight of a crazed
nation
on their complacent
shoulders

Equestrian officer
at an easy stride
I see faces
heavy with doubt,
faces far from home...
faces all too near.

Traffic of a world
going mad

held in the trembling
and ludicrous palm of
AMERICA

oh-say-can-you-see?

I finally sit
in the shadow of the washington monument
watching the reflections
of other passing tourists
in the black granite wall.

I am watching my father
walk along
looking for something

a name?
a reason?




I remember this page differently.
I remember that day.

I was sitting up on a golf-course green, hill....
watching my Father.
I had my walkman stuck in my ears...
and LONGEST PARADE from Blind Man's Zoo was playing.
10,000 Maniacs.

I was rewinding the tape and playing it over and over.

The WALL was surreally shiny.
He was walking calmly along it,
Looking.
and Looking
and Looking.

He didn't touch it.

The memorial, I would learn years and years and years later
was designed by a young Vietnamese-American Woman.

It's design was challenged.
It was too simple.

It is not too simple.

It slices into the ground.
And reflects every person who walks along it.

I know NOTHING of war.
I am only a Soldier's Daughter.

I have lived a life of privilege and shelter.

When I was sitting there, I was very young.
More ready to be indignantly angry at my Country--
than ready to receive the moment I was given.
Than ready, to try and see....my Father
in the most human space I could possibly view him.

I wish I could sit there now, in that moment.
I would watch his face.
I would turn off the music in my ears.

I would still sit up on that hill...at a distance.
This moment, one of his most private.
Opened up under the jet striped sky.


My adoration of Mild Mannered Men...who can Fly?

Isn't hard to take apart.
  • Current Music
    Milk And Honey
Ginger1991

It wasn't called "Longest Parade"...

What else, have I forgotten.

*sigh*

Artist: 10,000 Maniacs
Album: Blind Mans Zoo
Title: The Big Parade



Detroit to D.C.
night train, Capitol, parts East.
Lone young man takes
a
seat.

And by the rhythm of the rails, reading all his mother's mail
from a
city boy in a jungle town
postmarked Saigon.

He'll go live his
mother's
dream,
join the slowest parade he'll ever see.

Her weight of sorrows
carried long and carried far.

"Take these, Tommy, to The Wall."

Metro line to the Mall site
with a tour of Japanese.

He's wandering
and
lost
until a vet in worn fatigues
takes him down to where they belong.

Near
a soldier,
an ex-Marine
with a tattooed dagger and eagle trembling,

he
bites
his lip
beside a widow breaking down.

She takes her Purple Heart,
makes
a
fist,
strikes The Wall.

All come to live a dream,
to join the slowest
parade
they'll ever see.

Their weight of sorrows carried long
and carried
far,

taken to The Wall.

It's 40 paces
to the year
that he was slain.

His hand's slipping down
The Wall

for it's slick with rain.

How would life have ever been the same
if this wall
had carved in it one less name?

But for Christ's sake, he's been
dead
over 20 years.

He leaves the letters asking, "Who caused my mother's
tears,

was it Washington or the Viet Cong?"

Slow deliberate steps are
involved.

He takes them away from the black granite wall
toward the other
monuments
so white and clean.

O, Potomac, what you've seen.

Abraham had his war too, but an honest
war.

Or so it's taught in school.
  • Current Music
    Milk And Honey