WE DID IT!!!

I think Michael Moore said everything so very well. Here's his message:

Wednesday, November 5th, 2008

Friends,

Who among us is not at a loss for words? Tears pour out. Tears of joy. Tears of relief. A stunning, whopping landslide of hope in a time of deep despair.

In a nation that was founded on genocide and then built on the backs of slaves, it was an unexpected moment, shocking in its simplicity: Barack Obama, a good man, a black man, said he would bring change to Washington, and the majority of the country liked that idea. The racists were present throughout the campaign and in the voting booth. But they are no longer the majority, and we will see their flame of hate fizzle out in our lifetime.

There was another important "first" last night. Never before in our history has an avowed anti-war candidate been elected president during a time of war. I hope President-elect Obama remembers that as he considers expanding the war in Afghanistan. The faith we now have will be lost if he forgets the main issue on which he beat his fellow Dems in the primaries and then a great war hero in the general election: The people of America are tired of war. Sick and tired. And their voice was loud and clear yesterday.

It's been an inexcusable 44 years since a Democrat running for president has received even just 51% of the vote. That's because most Americans haven't really liked the Democrats. They see them as rarely having the guts to get the job done or stand up for the working people they say they support. Well, here's their chance. It has been handed to them, via the voting public, in the form of a man who is not a party hack, not a set-for-life Beltway bureaucrat. Will he now become one of them, or will he force them to be more like him? We pray for the latter.

But today we celebrate this triumph of decency over personal attack, of peace over war, of intelligence over a belief that Adam and Eve rode around on dinosaurs just 6,000 years ago. What will it be like to have a smart president? Science, banished for eight years, will return. Imagine supporting our country's greatest minds as they seek to cure illness, discover new forms of energy, and work to save the planet. I know, pinch me.

We may, just possibly, also see a time of refreshing openness, enlightenment and creativity. The arts and the artists will not be seen as the enemy. Perhaps art will be explored in order to discover the greater truths. When FDR was ushered in with his landslide in 1932, what followed was Frank Capra and Preston Sturgis, Woody Guthrie and John Steinbeck, Dorothea Lange and Orson Welles. All week long I have been inundated with media asking me, "gee, Mike, what will you do now that Bush is gone?" Are they kidding? What will it be like to work and create in an environment that nurtures and supports film and the arts, science and invention, and the freedom to be whatever you want to be? Watch a thousand flowers bloom! We've entered a new era, and if I could sum up our collective first thought of this new era, it is this: Anything Is Possible.

An African American has been elected President of the United States! Anything is possible! We can wrestle our economy out of the hands of the reckless rich and return it to the people. Anything is possible! Every citizen can be guaranteed health care. Anything is possible! We can stop melting the polar ice caps. Anything is possible! Those who have committed war crimes will be brought to justice. Anything is possible.


We really don't have much time. There is big work to do. But this is the week for all of us to revel in this great moment. Be humble about it. Do not treat the Republicans in your life the way they have treated you the past eight years. Show them the grace and goodness that Barack Obama exuded throughout the campaign. Though called every name in the book, he refused to lower himself to the gutter and sling the mud back. Can we follow his example? I know, it will be hard.
I want to thank everyone who gave of their time and resources to make this victory happen. It's been a long road, and huge damage has been done to this great country, not to mention to many of you who have lost your jobs, gone bankrupt from medical bills, or suffered through a loved one being shipped off to Iraq. We will now work to repair this damage, and it won't be easy.
But what a way to start! Barack Hussein Obama, the 44th President of the United States. Wow.

Seriously, wow.
Yours,
Michael Moore

PRAISE GOD! - Tomaca

Party With the Ancestors

Someone asked me today what party was I going to if Barack Obama wins the presidency. I told him it would be a party with the ancestors. Candles, incense and prayers to all of those who have come before all of us who paid with blood, sweat and tears. The unimaginable pain of those millions upon millions of people that built all of the Americas and made this world what it is today.

I pray Barack Hussein Obama is elected as our new president. It is well beyond time for a change!

My office joint

Mothers and Their Daughters

Sometimes there can be a mere 15, 16 or 20 years between their ages. But, if things work out right, they become best friends in time - always there for each other.



It starts off before the womb with a spiritual commitment to come here to learn from each other. Mom cares for that baby girl and helps her to grow. At some point the tables turn and the younger becomes the older, caring, carrying, loving and supporting. That's the way it's supposed to be.


Walking slowly because the new younger one can't walk that fast. She needs her cane now and has to guage her steps, much like the new older one did when she was young. Going from point to point - holding onto the couch, then steps to the chair, crawling because sometimes there wasn't anything tall enough to grab on to in order to steady this new thing called walking.


Yes, the tables turn sometimes. And, if we are lucky, we will have the opportunity to enjoy returning the care and the love given to us as infants and toddlers, teenagers, young adults and far beyond. Because again, if we are lucky, our turn comes and our telephone rings because someone needs to know that we're feeling okay today.

If we're lucky, they've got the time to sit and chat because you want to share some of the stories from your 90 years. You want to talk about how much things have changed and how much better they were when you were young. That special dress that your father bought for you from that fancy store cost $7.00, but it may as well have been $1 Million. And you felt like $1 million in it. It fit you like a glove and you were Miss It for that day. Someone has to hear those stories. Someone has to know who you are and what you've done because after all you had a life before you became a mother - and during and after. You want someone to laugh with, someone to know that you love them and they love you.

You want to know that you did a good job because you sacrificed 20+ plus years of your own life for this person. But, you don't care about the sacrifice - in fact you don't even consider it to be a "sacrifice." It was your life and you felt blessed to have this person in it to share it with. You did your best to tell them of the world and you are so grateful to know that person is living their life with joy and happiness.

It warms your heart when they call and say "thank you for everything that you've done for me." They look back and understand why the room should be clean, why things should be organized, why it was important to keep any commitments they made. They see clearly how those dance classes or that one little trip to the museum enhanced their life. What they thought was nagging was really love - they realize that now. They were being given lessons to help them prepare for their own independent lives.

They realize that you couldn't afford to bring them on vacations to exotic far away places that their friends would return to school with every fall talking about. It's okay because you picked up a book at the five and dime because you thought they'd like to read it. Occasionally, there was a new doll that you could make all kinds of new clothes for from scraps and old clothes.

The sandwiches you made were special. And no one in the world can cook food like you do. There was something about the way you made it. You remember the taste of pure love in everything even if occasionally it was a big pot of beans because that's all there could be.

It's their turn to carry you if need be. It's their honor to do for you what you did for them. They give you a mother's love.

Sometimes

Sometimes, yes, I do question what I am doing, what I've done, where I've been and where I'm going. Sometimes it's hard to stay on the road that you've chosen. You think you have everything you need and you forge ahead confidently not aware of the pitfalls and the lessons that lay ahead. You take your beatings and hopefully you learn your lessons and you continue stronger and more resilient - hopefully. But, sometimes you are the overly-weary road traveler and you just keep putting one foot in front of the other and struggle to find the meaning in what you do. Then you get some rest, take a deep breath, put a prayer in your heart and continue on knowing what you know. That's something that no one can take from you -- what you know, what God put in your heart. Your visions, your dreams are yours. Not to be shared necessarily, but to be known by you and only you - and God.

So, it's not easy; sometimes it does get hard, but you just have to go for what you know.

My Mentor

Just a note to acknowledge my friend who has worked with me in music for the past two plus years.

He has helped me to open up my eyes which led to the opening of my mind and my senses. I see a broader spectrum of the world thanks to him.

He always forces me to think about the root of my actions. Why I did something a certain way, what emotions or baggage were behind it thus helping me to continue to grow beyond who and what I am.

Music is a prayer. This is his mantra. I understand it with my mind, but have yet to been able to incorporate the meaning of this into my life. But, it will come.

Being "still" is something that very few people do. Of course, he does. It is constantly, constantly reinforced to me. To still yourself means to meditate and to become an observer of yourself and life in general. It is to connect directly with the All That Is that is part of us.

I immensely enjoy moments of quiet and seclusion on the rare occasions that I have them. I've yet to still my mind in those moments. Things around me a quiet and still, but my mind is always as busy as ever -- thinking, planning, calculating, working, talking... I will get there though.

I just wanted to acknowlege him and thank him for having the patience of Job to deal with a music kindergardner like myself. Music is a meal; my voice is part of that meal. There is no separation of the two.

Yeah, it's deep and there's much more to the lessons and the learning. So, to the boss - thank you, I love you, respect you and cherish the lessons you've taught me. I also thank you for not giving up on me and teaching me to respect the gift and bringing my life to a new level.

Tomaca's Opera

Yes, I am writing an opera. Don't know how long it will be, what it will sound like or what the theme is. Just know that it will be. The voice sings in my heart all the time, every day, every night. It is joined with a chorus of others in my head and sings to me.

Once I was the recipient of the most beautiful choral operatic performance that I ever heard in my life. It was during a long ride to a gig. It was dark, but the stars were brightly lit in the sky and I had a lot of road ahead of me. It just started out of nowhere. It was as if a chorus of angels was riding just above me and singing the most beautiful music. I don't remember what the words were. I don't remember how it was structured or even the voices that sang. But, I do remember how it felt and it felt amazing.

I believe in angels. I hear their voices sing and echo far more beautifully than mine. I embrace them and their joy. Pull the feeling into my life and hold onto much like a child would hug and squeeze a teddy bear as if they can squeeze the love out of it directly into their own bodies.

So this opera will be a reflection of who I am and the Creator's gift to me. The voice will resound and tell a story of some sort and look for lives to touch as it touches my own. And it doesn't matter if people remember the words or not. It doesn't matter if anyone remembers the structure or even that it is my voice that sang. All it matters is that they can feel the Creator's presence and His love in it and pull that feeling into their own heart and their own life for themselves.