#MeFirst movement

California sun streaks  through eucalyptus trees as a few early risers munch on French pastries, drink hot coffee and make gentle conversation at Hollywood’s Farmers Market at The Grove. Smells of dough nuts frying mix with fresh burgers grilling and somewhere someone is slicing onions. Famous faces smile and lie to each other about how good they both look. A small elderly lady sports a #MeToo ball cap while shopping among mounds of oranges, mangoes and Chinese spices.

grove fm at night

The #MeToo movement was born after the discovery of Harvey Weinstein’s worst-kept secret that led him to being expelled from his high perch along with dozens like him, and to live in infamous and a very deserving exile. One has to wonder why he was the fat straw that crushed the camel of tolerance? Why not Bill Cosby? Probably because the sixty plus women he raped were not famous. This new movement ladies march to is righting a multitude of wrongs while the current occupant of the White House seems immune from any such penalty.

In the past twenty years a heightened sensitivity has evolved toward the treatment of women, the mentally ill, homelessness, immigrants, gays and transgender folks, sexual behavior in general, fat shamming, bullying in many forms, race relations and certain foods such as gluten and carbs. One would think the human race is evolving into a better society and bounding toward an inevitable utopia.

It is not.

Another illness has evolved rapidly along with the wonderful progress in this world. I call it the #MeFirst movement. A great number of all age groups have come to see themselves as an impatient and irritable sovereign whose main purpose has become to never willingly wait for anything.

No matter how long or short the lines are to check out of Ralph’s or CVS, a so-called human loosely holding the leash to his service pit bull balancing his handful of items will see the line, and voice disgust at those inconsiderate bastards who conspired to waste his royal time by making him wait in line. He and Fido will frog march to the head of the line glaring at anyone, including the cashier and the eighty year old in the wheel chair to challenge his God-given right to be first. As he  slowly pays for the items and the dog relieves itself, his flesh quivers from the drunken power over the rest of us. He wins again.

Last week I drove to the post office to check my mail and lo and behold stood an affluent man in the middle of the street taking pictures (of what I never understood). As he blocked my way, I beeped (gently) and wow. The man began his Game of Thrones “the Hound” impersonation howling a tapestry of profanity I haven’t heard since I was at the doctor’s office.

Animals behave much better than this. This morning’s news showed a man demanding to board his “service peacock” on a 747 at the airport. They said “no”. This attitude “I can do what ever I want” is unsustainable. 

“and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: you should mind your own business, and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders, and so you will not be dependent of anybody.” I Thessalonians 4″11-12

It makes me melancholy to have to leave The Grove. It seems so peaceful yet energetic. Maybe it’s all this wonderful food. Last week I blamed the LA Weekly for the California Colds. I decided to break by boycott and pick up a copy. Next week, I will tell you what I found.


Dharma Angels page 47 Ireland’s 32


Go back in time to a place faraway

whiskey and friends a Guinness buffet

Patrick and Allen pour and serve grand

Monica and Megan watch over the band

Lorenzo and Steve feed all the drinkers

Wee Allen listens to familiar thinkers

Stephen in his corner under the signs

Uncle Bernie sips beer smiles and then shines

Irish descendants come from afar

The pub is home and full is the jar

Toasting and cheering as the fiddles do play

Hard to find a seat on St Patrick’s Day

Leprechauns and Lords green to core

Dancing all night stomping the floor

Come one and never leave buying a round

Ringing the bell Neal heard the sound

Mike is there too offering his thoughts

Bella comes near bringing the shots

Good times for all live and grow old

Look close and find that rare pot of gold




Reading From California Beat Poetry


red line

Page 117 Red Line Blues


Life’s full of trouble and the day has been hell

coming down the stairs three ladies fell

blues were playing the beat was fine

not finding a seat on the late arriving Red Line

the train jerks hard and now were’re off

sick old man hacking his cough

thoughts do ramble must change my ways

new resolutions from the dark train maze

we are riding together down to track

singing the blues and man there’s a stack

blue lights flash and Seventh’s ahead

beggar climbs in asking for bread

Union’s next and we all depart

ending better than the Red Line start


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