For our nation and the world these are uncertain times. So be generous and kind. Keep your dignity. Because your courage and dignity is where kindness comes from.

Thunder and rain. Staying in my digs this July 4th. Got that McDonnel's cheeseburger. This between downpours. My interns had put it on the '...don't even think about them' list. Bleep it I earned a treat for getting this far. Eh...still has that plastic and fried paper taste. Should have gone to the Bar-B-Q place.

About McDonnel's tho'. People from all over the planet. A symphony of languages. I'm so proud of my City my Country. We're a Nation of Nations. That and we deserve better burgers.

 

Assembled within Independence Hall Philadelphia.

These at top are 21st century Descendants of the signers of our

1776 Declaration of Independence.

They are of every race religion and orientation.

We have come so far.

Yet must go further still.

 

It's mid-afternoon.

The sun bright humidity suffocating and I have chores.

To market post office clinic. These days such is an adventure.

If I make it back, I'll let ya know.

There and back again.

Common things are now done with effort. Ran into a childhood friend...I live in my old hood. Everything different yet all the same. Told me about another friend from our kidhood passed away. Days go by the earth abides. We spoke of our lives times beginnings and endings. We'll be in touch.

Did my chores then to clinic. I have assorted serious mayhem going but was told I'm generally improved. I'll take it. That the assorted nuclear-powered meds they handed to me.

I treated myself to take out on the way home. Steamed mixed veggies and dumplings. For the holiday perhaps a humble treat. I may go off medical-script and have a cheeseburger. Ain't had one of them things in years. I'll let ya know what happens. Above the Barbie sisters in the hot steamy dusk when I got back to my digs. Loves ya.

 

My bookcase at dawn.

 

I sat in my childhood church for a while. It's all still there all the memories mysteries, and dark contradictions. Have you noticed that places of worship are set up as theaters. Have been since the Greeks. While meditating on this I was happy to see the stained glass had been restored. Color, and light. This is all that's really needed.

 

'Been sleeping so much since Spring.

 

A shot I took of heaven.

I dropped my camera, and this happened.

I never question these things.

“Illinois"

For over a century, and a half we unknowingly called to the stars. We unaware pleaded for attention with Morse Code then Carrier Wave radio, and now Digital Bursts. We even changed the spectrum of our atmosphere with industry. All this to mark our presence.

We called, and were heard.

As is their way the Star Folk sent an Envoy. This to hear our story not from our machines, but from ourselves. A vessel of bright shimmers there, but not moved undetected through the clouds. Like a dream passing through warm air.

It came to rest not at the Kremlin White House Versailles or even Disneyland. It settled a meter above the cracked pavement of a forsaken part of East Saint Louis, Illinois.

The Envoy disembarked, and floated to those watching. They were enveloped as with a mist. Their souls were asked for the story of Earth.

In response the Envoy was led to a battered Homeless Shelter. There the people said the truth of Earth could be found

Wandered over to our park. Manys days overcast with fire haze.

Finally, the sun broke through.

Hot very humid. This time I wore my hat and had water with me.

Lots of doggo folks out taking their humans for a walk.

Loves doggies.

There and back again

 

"...Watch the Skies!"

Stay in the shade. July is steamy. Heatwaves coming!

In the 90's for several days.

Ironically the fire haze may keep temps down.

Humidity another matter.

 

In the early 20th century, my paternal grandfather worked for the Mississippi Gulf Coast Railroad. This one of the few positions a Colored could have down South. One could be a teacher in a Negro school like both of grandpa’s sisters. A minister or an undertaker for Coloreds. So grandpa worked the Railroad.

This is where my dad found his love of trains.

When we got our house in Brooklyn in the 1950′s. He eventually built a giant electric train layout in the basement. This to the joy of all the kids on the block, and my Ma’s ongoing exasperations. Grandpa passed his love of trains to dad, and he to me.

Interesting how periods of your life seem either closer or further away. No matter where they happened in your history. My 1990’s adult experiences are back there with my 50’s childhood life. However, my 1970’s mayhem just happened days ago. I just flashed the 'Dark Christmas' of 1973. NYC had few holiday lights this because of the Oil Embargo. Also clear memories of being with friends at the Living Theatre on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. Such lives we have

 

Me and Summer so far.

 

 

Once upon a time. Things being what they are. I portaled to West 38th Street Manhattan. This on a much less smoky day in October 1953. I wore a 21st century Space Force sweatshirt shirt, and Vietnam veteran’s cap. I wear that for my brother.

No one noticed. I love NY.

What strikes are the smells. Car exhausts soot from light industry dog poop, and a thick background radiation of cigarette smoke. In them technicolor days everyone smoked like a forest fire.

I weaved onto the street taking the snap above. Almost hit by a '49 Chevy delivery van. Guy yelled ethnic slurs at me. I would have taken his portrait but didn’t want to start a race riot. America, I'd know her anywhere. I stumbled to a news stand. Asked for “Fantastic Four” No.1 …guy never heard of it. I was about a decade early.

So I got a Hershey bar which was five cents and twice the size as ours. I went into a phone booth. Revealed my secret identity of temporal slider. Shifted phased or whatever back to the angry smoky, and expensive future.