Bye Bye Birdie

Elon Musk has just announced that he’s going to reactivate Donald Trump’s Twitter account. He said he used a “poll” and let the people decide.

I call B.S. I mean, how can anything on Twitter, which is rife with fake accounts and bots, be considered a valid poll. It just shows me how naive, or how scheming, Elon Musk is.

I haven’t been a big user of Twitter. My following, if it can be called that, is miniscule. But although I am small, I do have power, because there’s power in numbers. And if everyone who is as appalled as I am about Elon Musk’s recent actions were to dump their Twitter accounts, we’d have a voice.

So tonight I’m dumping Twitter.

Here, let me tell you what I really think: I have no desire to accidentally see Trump’s face or read his stupid tweets. If I do, I may get ill, and I’ll certainly feel sullied.

In my opinion, he’s a lying, dangerous man who’s forfeited his right to free speech on Twitter, especially while running for President again.

If you need other reasons to question Musk’s judgment and trustworthiness to run a site of this magnitude and influence, consider this article by Vanity Fair, that lists 21 “terrible things Elon Musk has said and done.”

A Reminder of Just Some of the Terrible Things Elon Musk Has Said and Done

No, I don’t want a person like that to get a penny from me for any ad revenue that my being a Twitter subscriber might generate for him.

Many people are ditching Twitter and going to a site called Mastodon.

Tonight I found an article about Mastodon, and more recent nefarious actions of Elon Musk. You can read it here:

Mastodon, the Social Media Platform Everyone Is Leaving Twitter For

I don’t wish to be a silent partner to this billionaire.

Bye bye, birdie. This bird has flown.

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This is post #19 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”

And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.

Photo (mastodon) by Lori Bonati

Featured photo (person at computer) by ijmaki @ pixabay.com

Listening Again

Note: The following post was inspired by a writing prompt by Scott, whose website is Mental Defecation. I don’t mean that as an insult. That’s actually the name of his blog!

This month, Scott provided 30 song-related writing prompts for November. His prompt for November 18th was to write about (a) a song you love but rarely listen to, or (b) a song from the year you were born.

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I’ve decided to write about a song I love but rarely listen to. It’s one I first heard about 12 years ago, when it was performed by Oscar Fuentes, a singer-songwriter from Guadalajara who now lives in Tucson, Arizona. The piece, written by León Chávez Teixeiro, a Mexican composer of social justice songs, has a very unusual name: 15 metros, 3 pulgadas, 8 octavos, 16.

Why I Love this Song

I love its melody, its chords, the spoken part that comes in about halfway through it, the rising intensity that really takes off in the last minute, and the way my friend Oscar sings it with so much feeling. Most of all, I love the emotions it brings out in me. The song just inexplicably touches my soul. And all of that without my knowing what the song is about.

The words are sung in Spanish, and only in Spanish. As far as I know, they’ve never been translated. And even though I have a pretty good working knowledge of Spanish, I know I’m missing a whole lot here. I think the lyrics are probably like poetry … the kind of poetry whose meaning isn’t all that obvious.

By reading a few YouTube comments (in Spanish) I’ve been able to gather that it’s a letter to someone from a worker who’s been injured on a job. But I think it’s also about love, loss, pain, and maybe even corruption. And at the end, there’s an invitation to “visit me, if you remember your friend, and I’ll give you a cup of hot coffee.” I hope I have that right. I’m guessing that, since the songwriter, Teixeiro, was known for his social activism, it’s probably a political song.

But I still don’t understand the significance of the numbers (15 meters, 3 inches, 8/8, 16) that are sung only twice during the song, and that make up the song’s title. If anyone can explain the song’s meaning to me, please leave a comment below.

Why I Rarely Listen to It

The best way to hear this song, in my opinion, is to go to one of Oscar’s gigs and hear him perform it live. But since I no longer live in Tucson, that option is out.

I do have his CD, “Esto Que Ves,” which includes this song, but I just haven’t been listening to my CDs lately. Life has gotten in the way. Isn’t that sad? I’m going to have to change my ways. I’ve been missing out on so many good musical moments.

And now that I’ve found a brand new video of Oscar performing it live in his studio (yay!) I’ll be listening to it a lot more often.

What I’m Doing Right Now

Listening to Oscar singing 15 metros, 3 pulgadas, 8 octavos, 16, of course. He’s accompanied by his music partner Mark Anthony Febbo, another talented Tucson musician.

I highly recommend that you click the link below and do the same. If you do, be sure to TURN IT UP LOUD, especially toward the end.

Oscar Fuentes and Mark Anthony Febbo – Quince Metros

Yep. It still gets to me.

You can also hear a wonderful recording of the song’s composer, León Chávez Teixeiro, performing it at age 83, here (with a beautiful piano accompaniment):

León Chávez Teixeiro y Guillermo Briseño – 15 Metros

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This is post #18 of the month-long challenge known as #NaBloPoMo or #NanoPoblano. To follow my blog, please click below where it says “Follow loristory.”

And, to read more of the NanoPoblano posts written by the supportive blogging group “Cheer Peppers,” click the image below.

Featured image (girl with guitar) by Saydung89 @ pixabay.com

Do Something

There should be stricter gun laws severely restricting the rights of those who have made or professed threats against others. The Buffalo, New York murders could have been prevented.

The killer believed in a right-wing, extremist, racist theory promoted by selfish, small-minded, greedy individuals. He then wrote a 180-page hate-filled screed and posted it on social media.

He also made a threat, in writing, against his own high school. This was known to the state police before his attack on innocent people.

And yet he was permitted, by New York State law, to purchase an assault-style weapon.

Why was this allowed? And how long before history repeats itself? We must act now to outlaw the promotion of violent propaganda and fear-mongering. We must also outlaw availability of assault-style weapons to those with any history of violent or threatening behavior.

Further, we must vote right-wingers out of office. If I had my way, we’d vote ALL Republicans out, just because they haven’t dissociated themselves from the party led by Donald Trump.

Here’s data reported today in the NYT:

“Over the past decade, the Anti-Defamation League has counted about 450 U.S. murders committed by political extremists.

“Of these 450 killings, right-wing extremists committed about 75 percent. Islamic extremists were responsible for about 20 percent, and left-wing extremists were responsible for 4 percent.

“Nearly half of the murders were specifically tied to white supremacists.” [See Anti-Defamation League graph below]

“As this data shows, the American political right has a violence problem that has no equivalent on the left. And the 10 victims in Buffalo this past weekend are now part of this toll. ‘Right-wing extremist violence is our biggest threat,’ Jonathan Greenblatt, the head of the ADL, has written. ‘The numbers don’t lie.’ …

“The pattern extends to violence less severe than murder, like the Jan. 6 attack on Congress. It also extends to the language from some Republican politicians — including Donald Trump — and conservative media figures that treats violence as a legitimate form of political expression.”
—-

The killer’s plan, after completing his mission in Buffalo, was to come to the city where I live, to a corner where I once worked, and continue the bloodshed. He has no remorse. He did not deserve the benefit of the doubt, or his so-called right to bear arms.

Regardless of where he was planning his next attack, good people were going about their daily business on a sunny day in Buffalo and were brutally murdered simply because of the color of their skin. I’m mad as hell. I hope you are, too. And I hope we all finally do something about it.

New Video (Please Share)

November 3rd is fast approaching. On that evening, we may (or may not) know the results of the U.S. Presidential election. I’m hoping it’s a decisive landslide for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, and that we Americans will not have to endure weeks of legal wrangling over who actually won.

More than anything, I hope we will never again have to endure the abuse of a donald j. trump Presidency. That’s right. I’m calling it abuse, and if you don’t agree with me, I’m sorry. You can always choose to unfollow this blog.

I don’t have to spell out what I’m talking about. You’ve seen his mocking, derisive speeches, you’ve read his Tweets. You’ve heard him joking about sexual assault, and you’ve been subject to his lies and denials, a.k.a. “gaslighting.”

You’ve heard him refer to bigots as “good people,” and to Mexicans as drug dealers, criminals, and rapists. You’ve cringed when he told the Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by.”

You’ve watched while he intentionally exposed his staff to COVID-19. You’ve noticed as he’s ignored the more than 200,000 American deaths due to the pandemic, downplayed its severity (meaning more vulnerable people will contract it), and used racial slurs to describe it.

You’ve even heard him call himself “the chosen one.” If I sound angry, it’s because I am.

In recent days, I’ve tried to keep a semblance of a sense of humor by matching up song lyrics with current events. For example, on my Facebook page, I’ve referred to “Creep” by Radiohead and to “Paper Moon” by Harold Arlen. But my sense of humor is beginning to wear thin. In fact, I think I can see through it.

That’s why I feel it’s time to ask you, my dear 200-plus followers, to help me.

Please comment below, so we can commiserate together! We need each other more than ever in this strange new world, while we manage to get through the next 27 days without losing our minds.

And also, if you would be so kind, please give a listen to the new (and, I hope improved) version of my original song/video, 2020 (2.0). You may remember my post about it in 2018, but don’t bother listening to that one. I’ve since changed some of the lyrics, added strings and glockenspiel, and re-recorded the audio. The rap in the middle is now accompanied by written-out lyrics. You can sing and rap along with me!

I’d be extremely honored if you’d like it and share it with your friends. The purpose is to get a message out reminding and encouraging people in the U.S. to VOTE (like their lives depend on it, as Michelle Obama recently said).

The song is also fun to dance to.

Here’s the link again: 2020 (2.0)

Thank you.

I’m November Dreamin’

To borrow a phrase from the late great Congressman John R. Lewis, I hope to get into “good trouble” for this post.

In 1963, John Phillips woke his wife Michelle in the middle of the night to tell her about a song idea. Michelle wanted to go back to sleep, but John encouraged her to get up and help him write the song. She wrote the second verse, and two years later they’d record it with Cass Elliot and Denny Doherty. John, Michelle, Cass, and Denny were The Mamas and the Papas, and the song was California Dreamin’. It was a huge hit.

I’m old enough to remember when that song was new. And now, 55 years later, I’ve taken the liberty of rewriting John and Michelle’s iconic lyrics with a new message for 2020. I’ve even recorded it in Garage Band, added video with iMovie, and posted the song, I’m November Dreamin’, on YouTube.

You can experience the entire project (including three-part harmony, artwork that I found on Pixabay.com, and video of me rapping) here. Or just search YouTube for “I’m November Dreamin’. The title is unique, so far.

I’m no Mama Cass – I can’t sing as well as any of the Mamas OR the Papas – but I suppose I might qualify as The Grandma. I might, in fact, be the oldest rapper on YouTube.

I’m not here to toot my own horn. The whole purpose of the video (and this post) is to get Americans riled up enough to vote in November (for the alternative to “you know who”). So, if you like the video, I’d really appreciate it if you’d share it far and wide. And of course, I’d love to get your likes and comments here, and on YouTube.

Just in case you’d like to sing along with me, here are the lyrics to I’m November Dreamin’:

All the leaves are green
and the sky is blue                               
I’m hopin’ for a change,
somethin’ we can do.
I’ll be feelin’ better
when this administration’s through.                                    
I’m November dreamin’
‘bout electin’ someone new …    
 
I’m gonna vote by mail,
maybe you are too,
or you can go and stand in line
where they will welcome you.
Ya know it’s time to make a difference,
Defeat old you-know-who.
I’m November dreamin’
‘bout electin’ someone new!
 
Rap:
 
This isn’t a game, and what’s even stranger is
he’s deranged. Oh yeah, he’s dangerous.
He won’t take blame, he lies and he’s lazy.
Get him outta D.C. ... the guy is crazy!
Puts kids in cages, but then he’s liable
to brag about his brain while holdin’ a Bible!
He insulted McCain, but he’s always rootin’
for his pals like Stone and Vladimir Putin!
Don’t want more of the same? Then ya gotta be a chooser.
You all know his name, let’s make him a loser.
He appeals to his base … aww … they must be trippin’,
It was a tight race, and now he’s slippin'. But
NO! This is NOT the time to relax.
Let’s give it what we’ve got up to the max.
It’s our only shot! Don’t sit around and gloat.
We’ve gotta vote!
 
All the leaves are green
and the sky is blue.
We’ve got a racist in the White House,
doesn’t have a clue.
It’s really time for an eviction
at Pennsylvania Avenue.
I’m November dreamin’ 
‘bout electin’ someone new,
‘bout electin’ someone blue,
and I hope that you are too!
 

Again, thanks for comments and sharing!

Bumper Sticker Love

The cars at Trader Joe’s had a lot to say today! I think I’ll let them do the talking for me.

Which one is your favorite? Do you have a bumper sticker on your car?

Diversity Song

Yesterday, I walked to a little park near my apartment. It was a beautiful day. People of all ages, shapes, and sizes were out walking and riding bikes. A gray-haired woman sat on a bench in the sun next to a young woman with Down syndrome. A bald man on a recumbent bike sat quietly next to a statue, a memorial to children in the community who have died. Children played on a rainbow-colored slide. I noticed that it was also a rainbow-colored variety of children; their hair was black, brown, and yellow. It got me thinking about America.

It’s hard NOT to think about America these days (especially if, like me, you happen to be an American). We’re in the news every day, and most of it’s downright embarrassing. But at the park, I started thinking about what I believe truly makes America great. To me, it’s our diversity.

Maybe this Thanksgiving, Americans should make more of an effort to give thanks for our diversity. And maybe we should celebrate it this Fourth of July, too.

Tonight, I’ve written some lyrics about diversity in America. You might want to sing them to the tune of “America the Beautiful” while sitting down for your Thanksgiving dinner this year.

DIVERSITY

Oh beautiful for this our home
For mountains, rivers, trees
For buffalo so plentiful
Fish swimming in the seas
For Native people living here
Respectful of the land
The beans and corn and squash adorned
That perfect feast so grand

Oh brave the many immigrants
Who faced the ocean storms
With hopes of finding better lives
Wishing to be transformed
And braver still the stolen ones
Robbed of their liberty
Our country’s been a melting pot
Though not completely free.

We stand for nothing if not this:
We are diversity
A land of many colors proud
That is our legacy
America, America
Our strength: our many shades
A garden where all flowers grow
Where every grain can wave!

© Lori Bonati

Looking Ahead to 2020

They say the 2020 U.S. Presidential race began last night. If so, I guess the time has come to share with you my latest music video, “2020,” which you can listen to and view here:

2020 Music Video

I was amazed and flattered that it took third place (based on applause) at a recent local amateur film contest. The 300-person mostly college-age audience was clapping in time and loudly singing along even before the first verse ended!

If you like the video, please “like” it here and on YouTube, and share!

Spoiler Alerts:

• I rap during the instrumental part. (My audience actually whooped with surprise when they heard it.)
• It has a beat you can dance to.
• I’m not exactly a fan of Donald Trump, as will become obvious.
• Here are the lyrics, minus the rap:

2020

Verse 1:

In two thousand twenty, the votes they will be plenty
Cryin’ out for justice, and nobody can bust us!
Don’t call us a snowflake, we’re more like an earthquake, yeah!
Just like an eruption, we’ll throw out corruption, yeah!

Verse 2:

In two thousand twenty, our voices will be many
It wasn’t an illusion, you’re guilty of collusion
We’ll show you we aren’t buyin’ your wall and all your lyin’, yeah!
There’s one way to beat you, our votes they will defeat you, yeah!

Chorus:
In 2020, heed my words
Your hopes will fly like little birds
Democracy will get a boost
The eagle will come home to roost
The world will be a better place
When at last you lose the race
No longer will we see your tweets
The victory will be so sweet!

(Instrumental/Rap)

Verse 3:

In two thousand twenty, the votes they will be plenty
Cryin’ out for justice, and nobody can bust us!
And you can quote us, we’re puttin’ you on notice, yeah
Just go ahead and quote us, you never were our POTUS, yeah!

© Lori Bonati, 2018

≈≈≈≈≈

Note: These are my unapologetic sentiments. I don’t expect everyone to agree with me, but I’m worried about racism, xenophobia, guns, and the future of our planet, and it’s just time for me to make a little noise about it. I hope you’ll sing along, and play it loud!

Don’t forget to watch the video and share if you like it!

Hoping for Change

I’m watching the U.S. midterm election results tonight. It’s been a nail-biter of an evening so far, with many races “too close to call.”

8:15 p.m.: The balance of power may be shifting ever so slightly tonight. There may be a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

8:20 p.m.: But wait, I think they just announced the results from Texas, and I’m not pleased. My favorite candidate is down 2%.

I need to get back to watching the results.

I think I’ll just post this photo for now. This is how I feel tonight: cautiously optimistic, hopeful, but with my guard up, knowing this dry spell may last a little longer.

Thanks to Joan, Heather, and the NFL

Last night, I dreamed I met Joan Baez.

I was standing just outside of her dressing room, a small trailer with an open window (as in a food truck) on one side, and the door on the other. With tears in my eyes, I stood in the doorway and told Joan Baez that I’d been a fan since I was 12 (that’s not really true; I was about 15). Then I told her my current age, and she said, “Well, that says a lot.” (She’s older than me, actually, but I refrained from telling her so.)

Even though a throng of fans was crowded around the open window, she turned away from them to have a private chat with me in the doorway. Still, I had the awkward feeling that I couldn’t quite express myself to her. I told her I loved how she sang a certain song (one of her earlier folk songs) but in my dream I told myself that I really loved another one better, and if only I could remember its name I’d tell her I loved that one, too. I felt like I was acting like a typical gushing fan, the last thing I wanted her to think of me, and that maybe she was just humoring me.

But then she handed me something — a gift of some kind — and as I walked away, I said to someone, “Now I can send her a thank you card!”

So here it is. Thank you, Joan, for inspiring me as a young woman to buy a guitar, to learn your songs, to play along with your records, to try and hit your high notes (both musically and politically). Thank you for introducing me to pacifism and protest marches. And thank you for that gift, whatever it was, in my dream.

Maybe I dreamed about you last night because this weekend is the one-year anniversary of the racist Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville — the one that resulted in the murder of Heather Heyer, a believer in social justice who was there protesting the rally.

So here’s another thank you — this one is for Heather Heyer.

Thank you, Heather, for helping to keep the spirit of protest alive, and for standing up against racism and injustice. And thank you for your last post on Facebook, which was: “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.”

And, while I’m at it, thank you to the NFL players who’ve been taking a knee to protest racism and injustice. Shame on you-know-who for criticizing their peaceful form of free speech.

Unbelievably, another white supremacist Unite the Right rally is scheduled to take place in Charlottesville this weekend. What a slap in the face to all that’s decent in the world.

I think I’ll spend the rest of today practicing my guitar (until my fingers get sore, anyway) while thinking about peace, justice, love, and protests. Maybe a new song, or at least another dream, will come of it.