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The Anarchist and The Cop
bibliomaniac
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Today is a big protest day, big enough for my college district to get a a group together to converge in opera plaza in San Francisco.  We are mad as hell about all the cuts and budget imbroglios and aren't going to take it anymore.

Of course, we will take it because it's been a long slog of a couple of years with things going south and we will likely teach again on Friday, but educators, students, citizens, and anarchists are banding together to tell the law makers that things aren't working.

Speaking of anarchists, mine is in town for this action.  He rolled in on the bus last night, and sometime around Saturday, I'll see him again.  The thing about him is that anarchy has lost a little of its luster.  He's actually living in a house and paying rent and working for a bookstore.  A year ago, he wasn't attached to the earth in either of these ways.  I like it better when he's attached to the earth because, I suppose, it keeps him closer to me.  Since he found a warm, solid place to live, I've stopped having bad dreams about him.  Since he's been working, I've been able to breathe in and out when thinking about his life.

These attachments haven't dampened his fire, though he has suggested that getting arrested is for the younger batch of anarchists (he's 25).  In fact, life has been more contentious, especially since my youngest son announced his plan to become a cop.  Yes, life around the holiday table was like a firing squad that works both ways.  Back and forth, anger and upset, all over ideology, and the fact that the anarchist thinks all cops are rotten to the core.  But wait, there's his brother, a fabulous human being who wants to be a cop.

It's the Scooby Doo moment in the program, it's the pixilation of the screen, it's the waking up to find the bad dream is reality.

And pass the flipping potatoes, dammit!

I won't be heading to the protest.  I'll be finishing up my last class and then heading to the store.  Call me lazy or complacent, but I will just call myself not a protester.  Maybe I'm progressing due to the actions of others.  Maybe I'm lazy.  I don't know, but I still think our world needs those who shout and those who listen.  I'm listening.  I'm waiting. 

Jessica