As I start toward town Wednesday for my first
show on the new “Que Tál”
community radio station, a
healthy young coyote trots across Soledad Canyon Road just in
front of me. Good sign! We don't see 'em so often lately.
I'm well-rested. Several shots of
mescal at bed-time helped.
KTAL's first live show is technically
ragged but awesome. I'm awed by what fellow board-members have
accomplished to get us here. We struggled embarrassingly long to get
the station going. On “Speak Up, Las Cruces!” I've arranged an
appealing schedule with mostly shows where knowledgeable local people
will disagree strongly but civilly with each other.
It's incredibly complicated to create
a radio station! We all feel pretty elated by midday Wednesday.
Thursday an inch of rain falls in an
hour just north of us. I have to go visit an (allegedly) demented
person. Several muddy rivers crossing Soledad Canyon remind me I
should have taken the truck.
At the strongest river, two vehicles
have stopped to reconnoiter. I quickly stop too. Then CRUNCH! I
feel myself thrown forward.
I step out into the downpour. I
mute my anger. I approach the other vehicle, a big pickup with
plenty of previous damage in the front. Young man sits at the wheel.
Slightly dazed, or shocked. He apologizes immediately. He shows me
his insurance information and drivers' license. It's raining too
hard for me to copy his information easily. I have to lean in and
use the top of his dashboard as a table. “I'll tell the truth,”
he says. “It was all my fault.” I say that's good. He says he
was afraid I'd be really angry. “Could have happened to any of
us,” I say reassuringly.
I'm soaked and a little edgy. My back
hurts a little. I turn around.
At home we realize the car is damaged
more than I'd realized. Much time on telephone with insurer and
Vescovo. Then a long trip into town. Body shop, Enterprise, doctor.
I feel a bit dazed, but don't hurt too bad. Driving home, I enjoy
hearing a music show on 101.5 FM.
I awaken at 2 a.m. Beautiful night.
Outside, I sit watching the dark mountains, marred by few lights,
and the grey sky full of stars. The crickets are muted tonight. I'm
glad to be here. (A pain-killer helps.)
Inside again, I turn on the computer.
The Senate has defeated “skinny” repeal, Republican leadership's
desperate effort to show power by passing a bill no one likes and
leaving tens of millions of citizens' healthcare to a lottery called
the House-Senate conference. They're like kids trying to prove a
point, even by acting stupidly.
John McCain is a decent man, still
strong at 80. I wonder whether his own recent surgery made him
think how it might have been for some regular citizen. A Huffington
Post headline calling saying he'll “die with dishonor” for voting
to debate the bill is an ironic reminder of how vacuous most
invective is, on both sides. And of the uselessness of yesterday's
news. Meanwhile McConnell prattles that we owe it to citizens to
take away their healthcare.
I also learn that the NBA's Warriors
have re-signed Javale McGee, their wonderfully athletic backup
center. Another triumph for the culture of joy. I think of Kevin
Durant, delighted he could wear music headphones during practices,
something his former team had forbidden. A team I suffered with
through mediocre seasons, then watched become great, has actually
improved further!
I play briefly with the morning's
images of hummingbirds.
We live in the high desert, in
constant wonder and constant gratitude.
-30-
[The above column appeared this morning, Sunday, 30 July 2017, in the Las Cruces Sun-News, as well as on the newspaper's website and on KRWG's website. KRWG will also air a spoken version of it several times during the week.]
No comments:
Post a Comment